Actions

Work Header

The Last Bedroom Door

Summary:

Somehow your friendship with Pesci has gotten you tangled up in the social lives of emotionally repressed career killers, and although they hate to admit it you've become really important to them. But as much time as you spend around their base, you're surprised you still haven't met the owners of that last bedroom door on the second floor.

When Sorbet and Gelato finally make their debut in your life you're not ready for the way your heart can't stop aching.

Reader isn't just gender neutral, they're explicitly nonbinary.

Notes:

First (real) fic in probably over half a decade. I don't count the Sharkboy and Lavagirl joke fic.

Be sure to give me lots of kudos and comments to build up my ego, please.

Chapter 1: Children of Tama

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

La Squadra was filled with ruthless killers, trained well in the art of burning bridges and building walls. Any identity they had built up as a cover story outside of Passione was nothing but a facade meant to keep the true work they did in the shadows a secret. Family was kept distant and the only friends they had were each other, although their pride often prevented them from admitting it. But when Melone died there was definitely some unsaid sentiment heavy in the air for weeks after.

 

The structure of La Squadra had pulled tighter in afterward, growing denser. Closer to each other while retreating from the world outside them. Perhaps Passione noticed this social withdrawal and interpreted it with suspicion. Perhaps Passione’s suspicion had only exacerbated La Squadra’s resentment and withdrawal. The damage was done either way after their pay dropped.

 

How you managed to insert yourself into that volatile web was still a bit of a mystery to you. Wrong/right place, wrong/right time? As La Squadra’s lattice work began to shrink you had managed to squeeze yourself into an opening before it closed up tight. Well… more like tripping and falling head first into the opening. It had taken some time, but slowly the walls that the men of La Squadra had built around them began to crack. 

 

Pesci had been your in, his walls a guise in their own right. A few fateful encounters here, and a wacky misadventure or two there, and that wall didn’t fall down so much as it unbuilt itself back to nothing. You had sensed he was a kindred spirit, pursuing a friendship despite his initial resistance. Despite the stone heart that gang life demanded of him, you saw the way he wore that heart of his on his sleeve. All the internal battles he waged had always looked like the afterimage of color in motion, too fast to ever be seen or understood. You gave them clarity, capturing each previously indescribable feeling as a snapshot. Something tangible. He was so grateful to you.

 

Something about the way that Pesci stopped stumbling over his words and gained a newfound focus had Prosciutto curious to say the least. The first time you met him his cold eyes had examined you in silent judgement. You couldn’t help the nervous fidgeting as you felt yourself on trial for some unknown crime, but when Pesci told him your name his eyes had softened imperceptibly. His smile betrayed no joy, but it had been polite and not unkind. Some mystery had been resolved in his mind. Although you felt scrutinized by this stranger still, Pesci had let out a breath he’d been holding as he recognized his big brother’s smile for what it was. As you became a part of Pesci’s life, Prosciutto had no choice but to concede territory. And soon enough, you were behind enemy lines. One day Prosciutto’s smile finally reached his eyes.

 

Meeting Risotto Nero had been an accident. Pesci invited you to a cafe get-together with Prosciutto, not realizing it was “work related.” Pesci and Prosciutto’s jobs had been a secret to you, and you felt there was a good reason your friend never talked about that part of his life. Seeing his “boss” for the first time, garnet eyes unreadable and too intense to bear, your suspicions felt validated. This man, Risotto Nero, was no small business owner or restaurant manager. But you said nothing, polite and cordial to a fault. You didn’t say anything about the files stuffed back into folders that were immediately put away when you were asked politely if you’d like to sit down with them while you waited for your order. You didn’t say anything about the cafe owner’s big and friendly smile in recognition of his favorite customers! (His eyes darting around nervously, sweat starting to form on his face, stuttering his cheerful words…) You didn’t say anything when none of them said anything, Pesci’s face bright red in embarrassment at his mistake. You and Pesci ordered to-go, practically stumbling out of the cafe with mumbled goodbyes. You were grateful to get away from those red eyes.

 

You were grateful to see those red eyes again, weeks later, Risotto reaching down for your hand to help you up, the men who attacked you in that alleyway lying dead behind you.

 

Everything after that night had frantically begun to snowball out of your control. You were slowly becoming a larger part of each of their lives, and becoming tangled up in the lives of even more of these men before you knew what was happening. Your first meeting with Ghiaccio had hit you hard and fast. Before you could even process what was happening the man had exploded into an angry tirade about something you said. You gritted your teeth and glanced over at Prosciutto behind him, looking for some sort of explanation or way out, but the amused pity in his eyes told you that there was no escape. So much for “breaking the ice.” Looking back on that now, the choice of subject matter for your idiom probably didn’t help either. But as you listened to him and started to understand what he was saying, you could definitely sympathize with someone who had issues processing nonliteral language. You had apologized sincerely and told him from now on you would be as precise and intentional as possible when talking to him because it was something that he valued. Unused to anyone actually accommodating him in any capacity, his bluster was deflated and he was reduced to muttering out what might almost be mistaken for a thanks in the middle of a string of ebbing complaints.

 

Formaggio was wary of you at first, his silent persona bearing no resemblance to the man you knew now. His words always sounded so manufactured and stilted. The hesitation he had in speaking to you had never been in shyness. You thought he hated you, but was too polite to say it. Knowing him as you do now, there was no way. If he hated you he would have not spared your feelings. He had no filter, not afraid to be loud and crass and poke fun when it was inappropriate. It had only been during that awkward first month... Not even his teammates had been able to give you an explanation, mystified themselves. Sometimes you thought back to the look in his eyes when you first met. You always thought maybe it was… fear? Although it made little sense for the cold-blooded assassin to be afraid of an eggheaded college student with more tummy than abdominals. But now when Formaggio slung his arm around you and ruffled your hair… when he laughed at your subsequent grumbling and pouting... and then when he tried “making it up to you” by presenting you with tickets to a football game you only had superficial interest in... you smiled, knowing he thought of you as one of the gang. It was a mystery, to be sure.

 

Illuso was a guarded man, sneaky and downright nosy if you were being honest. He knew things about you that you never told any of the rest of them. He had been the most suspicious of you. This civilian suddenly inserted themself into all his teammates’ lives, but to what end? He usually trusted the rest of La Squadra’s judgement, especially Risotto’s, but why had he brought you into their base? (...Was an enemy stand at play?...) But the more he observed your mundane interactions with everyone the more he managed to relax. He saw the way that you brought some false sense of normalcy to the base. He saw the way Pesci had come out of his shell, saw Ghiaccio’s hidden smiles, and saw Formaggio finally having someone willing to indulge him in video gaming sessions (Illuso would sometimes begrudgingly humor him, and Pesci would be happy to agree when the mood struck him, but now he had some actual competition.) Things had been so solemn lately, and your presence had changed that. When the elusive man who seemed to know everything about you finally offered some vulnerability of his own, you couldn’t believe it. He almost couldn’t believe it himself.

 

You found yourself slipping through each of their defenses, one after another, taking down all their walls one stone at a time. Risotto Nero’s wall offered the most resistance by far, but he would have been lying if he’d said he felt nothing towards you. He didn’t know why he’d let you into his home. Every day he regretted it as a rare moment of weakness.  It had gone too far now, you were a part of the normal flow. As distant as he tried to keep himself, every time you flash him a nervous smile and a wave, he is reminded of some part of his own humanity that he had fought to crush down for years. When he saved your life that night, it had been for Pesci and Prosciutto’s sake and for their sakes alone. But now, when he’d think back to that night… if he had decided it wasn’t worth his time… if he had been a moment too late… but no. You were here. You made his men happy. He’d tolerate you. He’d keep his distance. He’d ignore that tight knot in his stomach that he gets whenever he thinks about you dead in that alleyway.

 

It was strange for a civilian like you to be swept up in some larger than life crime drama… Although after some time it felt more like a sitcom. You knew you were only ever getting a peek behind that curtain into the brutal reality of what they were, but they still kept you at an arm’s length. It was for your sake… and an arm’s length still meant you were close enough to touch. You don’t think you could handle what was behind that curtain anyway. Seeing them come around the base every so often covered in blood was already enough to make you shiver. You were content with some doors remaining shut.



...But not all doors. There was that one bedroom door at the end of the hall of doors upstairs. You’d seen all your new friends exit and enter every door in this house except for that one. You knew that most of them had another home to go back to or had work in another city, and not everyone was always present at any given time. But that door remained closed no matter who was here.

 

At first you thought it was Illuso’s room, since you don’t think you’ve ever seen him actually open or close a door before. He’d somehow always appear when you thought you were alone, startling you, or you’d ask him a question only to turn around and see that he was no longer there. Risotto managed to do the same a lot of the time, but he always knocked on a closed door before entering. However, when you saw the inside of Formaggio’s room, you realized that he and Illuso shared the space. It made sense, since there wasn’t a one to one ratio of bedroom to squad member.

 

You asked Pesci. He looked up at you confused, before he realized something, rubbing the back of his head and giving you a flustered smile. “Oh, damn… I almost forgot those two existed for a moment there.” 

 

“Don’t let the two of them hear you say that,” Formaggio laughed, peering over the newspaper he was reading. Pesci shrugged apologetically, then looked at you when you tilted your head a little in confusion.

 

“Ah, that’s Sorbet and Gelato’s room,” Pesci said. Sorbet and… Gelato ?  This was the first time you heard these names. “They don’t spend their free time here too often. They’re always here for meetings, but since you… aren’t allowed here during those…” he said, scratching his chin, “I guess you’ve never seen them.”

 

“They prefer each other’s company, anyway,” Illuso said behind you, causing you to jump a little. He inserted himself into the conversation like he was in the room the whole time. He smirked a little at your reaction and you rolled your eyes at him.

 

“That’s one way to put it,” Formaggio said, a knowing grin on his face.

 

“They’re dating,” Pesci said, giving Formaggio a stern look and ending any pretense. Formaggio’s grin fell and he looked at Pesci, then you, hiding back behind his newspaper to finish reading the sports section.

 

“And they’re both…?” you began, seeking clarification.

 

Pesci already knew what you were asking. “Yeah,” he said, giving you a smile. He lowered his voice a little, and raised his hand with the back facing you, showing off his nails. “They’re the ones who uh… let me borrow the nail polish.”

 

You search through your mental filing cabinet, recalling an old conversation from a long time ago now, around the time you met Prosciutto. “Oh! I remember that.”

 

Illuso opened his mouth, wanting to interject with some commentary, but raised his eyebrows when Formaggio shook his head silently. For someone who was used to being able to read Formaggio like an open book, he was taken aback by just how confusing the other man’s reaction had been. He closed his mouth before slipping out of the room unnoticed. This would be investigated later.

 

“Do they uh… know about... me ?” you asked. It was strange how normal your presence amongst these assassins had become, and yet there were two whole members you had never seen nor even knew existed until now. 

 

“I’m sure Risotto would have mentioned it to them,” Pesci said with a shrug. “They’re not… never around. They’ve been getting a lot more away missions lately, but I’m sure they’ll show up eventually. They are a part of the family after all…” He trailed off when Formaggio shifted uncomfortably behind his newspaper.

 

“We’re not a family, Pesci,” Formaggio said with a laugh that he tried to make sound laid-back, but it came out forced. “We’re coworkers. In a gang. We get paid to ki-” he stopped himself, glancing at you. “Well, you know. I mean, you’re all my, uh… friends or whatever. Well some of you. Can’t stand Ghiaccio… it’s not like I’d ask Prosciutto or the Capo to get a beer with me one-on-one… Ah, hey, don-don’t look at me like that dude.” He got defensive seeing Pesci’s deep frown.

 

This wasn’t the first time this sort of sentiment appeared in the La Squadra base. And you knew why many of them felt that way. As close as you could tell they all were, you knew there was always the lingering threat of death permeating everything. It was an accepted risk of the job, but it had only become real after one of them had actually died. Ever since you started to see them all interact with each other you knew that family was the only way to describe it. Even with Formaggio’s self-proclaimed dislike of Ghiaccio, you knew he’d never miss a chance to watch a football game with him when he was around.

 

You knew that sometimes he’d let Pesci win on purpose when they played video games together. Pesci knew it too, even though he appreciated the gesture too much to ever let Formaggio know. You knew La Squadra is the only place Pesci ever felt at home, despite any misgivings he might have deep down on his career choice.

 

It was quiet for a bit before Formaggio looked like he was about to apologize. Pesci cut him off. “Nah… no, uh. It’s okay. I get it. It’s fine.”

 

Formaggio thought long and hard about what to say next. Something to smooth things over. Something to express how he really felt without having to express how he really felt. He looked at you instead, awkwardly grinning and waving his hand as if to dismiss everything that just happened. “I… think you’d like them. Sorbet and Gelato. I think… you’d get along. Probably.”

 

You saw Pesci’s expression soften. There was some complicated emotional tennis game going on between these two right now, and you were only catching half the swings. “Ahh… well… I hope I get to meet them soon.” You gave Formaggio a warm smile. His nervous energy seemed to drain right out, and he gave you a content but tired looking smile in return.

 

It was late. You usually left the base earlier than this, but you’d lost track of time today. You started to gather your things, checking the main rooms to make sure you didn’t forget anything. On your way back to say goodbye to Pesci and Formaggio, you overheard the end of a hushed conversation.

 

“...nails look good. I noticed you’re, uh… using a different color recently. I didn’t say anything before but. Green. Cool.” Tonight had been a rare glimpse at a different side of Formaggio. Despite the awkwardness, or maybe because of it, Pesci let out a small laugh.

 

“Thanks, Maggi,” Pesci said. “I appreciate you trying for me.”



You said your goodbyes, and you were off.



You knew Formaggio loved his teammates. You knew he knew that he loved his teammates. And you know that beneath the doubts and insecurity that Pesci knew it too. The walls continued to crumble beneath your touch. You’d make these men stop repressing their emotions if it was the last thing you did. Maybe it was still premature to say it… but you could feel them slowly becoming your family too.

 

You were a dangerous liability to a group of assassins. They all had to know you were a mutual weakness among them. 

 

Sorbet and Gelato knew. They could see traces of your presence everywhere. Even before Risotto told them, they could see a curious transformation starting in everyone, beginning at Pesci and radiating out. For months, even without ever asking about you directly, they could start reverse engineering an impression of you in their minds. Observing the nuanced changes in everyone’s behavior… seeing small possessions you’d left behind scattered through the house... overhearing your name dropped in casual conversation like you’d become the new normal in their absence.

 

It was like solving a puzzle, albeit one with a very simple solution. This would be their last away mission in a string of away missions that they had eagerly been anticipating the end of. With that obstacle finally out of their way, they were ready.

 

Sorbet and Gelato were finally ready to meet you.

Notes:

PLEASE please tell me if anything is spelled wrong, grammatically wrong, or just confusing.

Sorry Sorbet and Gelato aren't actually in this chapter lol.

I'd really love to know what you're getting out of this work, especially if you like x Reader fics, are nonbinary, or aren't fond of how people write Sorbet and Gelato. Even if none of that applies please tell me what you think.

Chapter 2: Lowani Under Two Moons

Summary:

You meet the gremlin and the Dracula.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was a slow day at the base, most of La Squadra at their own homes or out on missions. When you realized Risotto was the only one actually there you immediately texted Pesci.

 

On mission w/ big bro. Can’t talk. Srry. :(

 

When you first started hanging out at the base regularly you always felt a bit awkward without him there too. As you got to know everyone better and actually become friends it became less of a problem, and when Pesci wasn’t available you’d often ask Formaggio if you could come over for a gaming session. Things had gotten to a point where once in a blue moon you’d drop by unannounced and pleasantly surprise everyone, although you were always careful to never show up on what Formaggio liked to call “business days.”

 

But you’d never been around when only Risotto was here. You knew Ghiaccio and Formaggio were at a bar watching football, so you had anticipated things might be quiet today and thought you’d use the space to get a little studying done. You were hoping Pesci would be around to help you quiz yourself. Even Illuso would help with something like that if you asked nicely enough.

 

You told Risotto you didn’t mean to impose and that you could leave.

 

“It’s basically your house too at this point,” he responded. He’d meant it as a playful affirmation of sorts, but his deep monotone did him no favors. You avoided his eyes, fixating on his words and working yourself up into an embarrassed mental loop. For the first time in months you felt out of place at La Squadra HQ.

 

Your sudden appearance had taken him off guard. Perhaps his words had more bite than he intended, but maybe on some level he knew exactly how you’d interpret what he said. He felt a pang of guilt that was instantly crushed down.

 

“Come in. You know you’re welcome here,” Risotto said, betraying no emotion. You could never read him, never even begin to guess at what he really thought about you. Even when he had saved your life there was no kindness in the action, no comfort in his words afterward. You felt forever indebted to the man but had no way to express it, every sincere smile you gave diplomatically rejected.

 

You put your stuff down and sat on the couch in the common area as Risotto headed back to his office. The conditions were prime for you to get a decent chunk of your schoolwork done today, but you found starting any assignment to be a challenge with the shame burning hot in the pit of your stomach. You often had these doubts, late at night, home in your own bed, that you didn’t belong here. But those feelings were always gone the next day, when classes were over and you were at the base painting the nails on Pesci’s dominant hand for him so he wouldn’t mess it up. Or braiding Illuso’s hair while he gossiped about his teammates. Or beating Formaggio for the first time at that racing game you could just never get the hang of. Or sketching a portrait of Ghiaccio for an elective art course you decided to try out and smiling one of your big smiles when he told you it looked alright. “For a first try, I mean.”

 

Even the ever-judgemental Prosciutto who nitpicked you to no end would drop his aloof mask and ask you if you wanted to help him make dinner. The silence while you both chopped vegetables was natural. Comfortable.

 

You tried to drown out your thoughts of Risotto by burying yourself in your textbooks. Eventually you became so engrossed in your work you were able to ignore the newfound claustrophobia the La Squadra base gave you.

 

You were brought back to reality hours later at the sound of chatter and two sets of footsteps outside. Maybe Ghiaccio and Formaggio were back from the bar? You bounced up and down a little on the couch as the sounds got closer, tapping your fingers against each other as your smile grew. You stood up, ready to greet them.

 

We’re baaaaack! ” a shrill and unfamiliar voice rang out in a grating singsong. You froze in place.

 

A man you did not recognize backed into the house, suitcase pulled behind him, as he held the door open for his equally unrecognizable companion. The first man, blonde and dressed in khaki with a wild smile, shut the door, then put his hands on his hips, surveying the house. When his eyes landed on yours you saw his brows furrow momentarily before realization crept in. You stood spellbound by his fierce gaze, neither of you looking away nor moving a muscle. You forgot to breathe.

 

Finally he snickered, and broke eye contact long enough to elbow the other man, who was locking up the door behind them. This stranger had jet black hair and a dark teal button down, and in stark contrast with the first man’s disposition he looked grim and glacial. When his eyes met yours next you felt your blood run cold as you noticeably flinched. Risotto’s cold stares never revealed anything to you, but this man was much more transparent. You could see the slight twitch of his lip upwards and the hint of amusement behind those otherwise reserved eyes.

 

“Sorbet. Gelato,” Risotto’s voice echoed in greeting from further down the hall attached to the entryway, causing the two to mercifully look away, allowing you to finally choke down some air. At least Risotto had confirmed these were not rival mobsters breaking in but rather the two elusory squad members you’d yet to meet. It only offered minuscule relief from your nerves.

 

“Capo!” the more animated of the two said. “Miss us?”

 

Risotto gave a quiet grunt. “You said you’d be home at midnight,” he said bluntly.

 

The blonde one smirked, his eyes darting to the side to take a quick glance in your direction. “We got in early. That’s not a problem, right?” You could feel your face heat up; he’d caught you still staring at him.

 

Risotto was silent for what felt like just a little too long. “No.” You had never seen him hesitate before in all the time you knew him. “Welcome back.”

 

The man with black hair finished locking the door, and the two of them started to disperse into the common area, Risotto shadowing behind them. You had shuffled backward to put a little space between you and them, but as you turned your head back for a moment to make sure you didn’t hit the coffee table you felt a strong hand slap down and grip your shoulder, immediately causing your head to swivel to the man who now stood at your side. It was the blonde one. He was looking over at Risotto, and he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, flashing his boss a playful grin. “So, were you planning to introduce us or not, Capo? Me and Sorbet have had to listen to you all going on and on about…” He paused. “...The civvie for months now.”

 

Civvie ? ...Technically? But did any of them actually call you that, or was it just this guy? If the other was Sorbet, this must have been Gelato. He was all frantic energy and insincere geniality. You knew he was teasing you, deriving some entertainment from gauging your reactions.

 

Risotto glared at Gelato until he took his hand off you. He turned his red eyes to you, calling your name to get your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. “This is Gelato,” he said gesturing to the man next to you, “and Sorbet.” He nudged his head in the other man’s direction. “And this is our guest ,” he said, now referring to you, silent warning hanging in the air. Gelato gave a flippant hum of acknowledgement before wandering out of the room towards the kitchen. You’d never seen any of the other squad members show anything but absolute deference to Risotto Nero. Risotto turned his attention to Sorbet, an almost imploring look on his face. Gelato was the only person you had ever seen trip Risotto up, and it had you absolutely dumbfounded.

 

“They are our guest,” Sorbet repeated, speaking for the first time since he arrived, shocking you with just how deep and resonant his voice was. You felt your bones shake, and stifled a small gasp. It did not go unnoticed by Sorbet, although the upturn of the corners of his mouth was much more subdued than Gelato’s sarcastic smirking. Risotto looked satisfied with this answer for now, and the usual blank expression returned. Sorbet nodded politely in your direction before following after his boyfriend. Risotto gave you one last look before leaving for his office.

 

You tried processing everything that just happened, trying to fully take in the two men you just met.

 

Gelato had a messy towhead, and in all likelihood he had probably cut it himself with how jagged the cuts were. While he was mostly pasty, his nose was red and round like a cherry tomato, and he had a natural ruddiness to his cheeks. The bridge of his nose was crooked, clearly broken more than once in his lifetime, and his pierced ears were large and protruding. The coat he had on was well-worn and a little frayed at the edges, sun bleached to its current dull color. He had thick untidy eyebrows and teeth so white they were off-putting. His lips were full and had a softness not found elsewhere on his face.

 

Sorbet had a receding hairline that dipped down into a dramatic widow’s peak. His hair was slicked back with enough product that the dark viridian from his satin top showed up as cool green undertones in the reflected light. The shirt itself looked much newer and more cared for compared to Gelato’s clothes, although it was unbuttoned on top making him slightly sloppy. The cool green of his hair and clothes contrasted against the warm orange undertones of his tawny complexion. His nose was sharp and aquiline, his ears small and narrow. What stood out the most was the dark lipstick he wore, applied in a way to emphasize sharpness.

 

Both their features were gaunt, eyes sunken in, cheekbones high, all sharp angles. Hell, Sorbet could be perfectly casted as Dracula with no makeup team needed. All the men of La Squadra were rather tall, although Gelato was probably the closest to your own height. They were both gangly and overall rather homely.

 

And when you peeked into the kitchen and saw them with their fingers intertwined, matching nail polish on both their hands, expressions soft and doting, you knew.

 

They were the most handsome men you’d ever seen.

 

Sorbet caught you spying, and gave you a mocking wink. Before Gelato could turn around to see your bright red face, you were gone.

Notes:

Hey look they're here.

I hope I did a good job making them sound universally ugly but appealing enough to the intended demographic here.

Like, these men are hideous in the source material.

I understand wanting to draw them as pretty boys but have you seen Sorbet's real actual hairline? <__<

Chapter 3: Uzani, His Army with Fists Open

Summary:

You finally manage to talk to the two of them.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You washed your hands for the third time since entering the bathroom, desperate to find an excuse to stay in there longer. Your embarrassed face stared back at you in the mirror, cheeks still warm. It seemed like everything had been stacked against you from the get-go. Upon two strangers entering the base you were rendered completely petrified and nonverbal. Even after realizing you weren’t in danger it was hard bringing yourself down from that state, especially since they seemed to find something very amusing about your reaction.

 

When you finally managed to pry your eyes away for a moment Gelato touched your shoulder, and any hope of recovering from the initial awkwardness was gone. You could get pretty touchy-feely with the others and had no qualms about physical interaction with your friends, but you did not know this man yet. Even if the intention was thoroughly friendly (although you had doubts when you pictured his sly smile in your mind) it was still overstimulating.

 

And when you kept staring blankly at them like an airhead while they shared an intimate moment together in the kitchen, well! You were mortified at how impolite your gawking was. The last thing you wanted to be seen as was standoffish, or worse, judgemental, even if you had only been staring because…

 

You looked away from your reflection, feeling the heat creep up to the tips of your ears. Splashing some cool water on your face didn’t do too much to counteract the warmth, although you felt a lot cleaner now that the sweat was washed off. You hated feeling sticky in any capacity, the lingering sweat a texture nightmare. It helped as much as washing your hands for the fourth time did. It let you focus on your body instead of getting stuck in your mind.

 

With a deep breath you met your eyes again in the mirror. You were a bit calmer, and thought you’d try seeing if your voice had returned to you yet. As a test you hummed a little. So far so good… Opening your mouth a few times you managed to get out a few words, although formulating a complete sentence was still beyond you. Going nonverbal didn’t happen too often to you nowadays, but you were patient with yourself.

 

Eventually you were at a point where you felt like it might benefit you to go over some possible scripts. “I’m sorry for earlier, Gelato. Sorbet. Hey, Gelato, Sorbet. I apologize for earlier, that was really… hm… Sorbet and Gelato, it’s great to finally meet you. I’m sorry if I was a little startled by your arrival… ah…” Well, at least you were talking again. Maybe you’d just wing it, you’d spent suspiciously too long in the bathroom already.

 

You went to open the door and yelped a little.

 

“Hey there,” said Gelato. You used all your willpower to keep yourself from slamming the door shut again. He had his hands on his hips and too-white teeth on full display. “Just checking on you, you’ve been in there a while.” How long were you in there? The room was definitely darker than it was before you went into the bathroom. Damn.

 

“You know, you still haven’t said a word to either of us,” he said, matter-of-fact, calling you out without hesitation. He didn’t move an inch to let you into the hallway. Did you have to do this right here, standing half-inside the bathroom?

 

“...Scared me,” you mumbled.

 

His eyes lit up upon finally hearing your voice. “Yeah, well that much was obvious. Nice to know you’ve got the good sense to be on guard when two strangers show up, although your fight or flight response might be a little lacking.”

 

“I’m sorry, I uh… I just froze, um, and…” you said, trailing off.

 

“Oh, there’s no need. If anyone should be apologizing it’s Sorbet. He really cuts an eerie figure, no? I’d be terrified too if I saw a devil like him on the street at night.” You heard a derisive grunt from the kitchen. “A handsome devil ,” Gelato added. The second grunt sounded surlier than the first. 

 

You couldn’t help but smile at that interaction. From the way they looked at each other when you saw them hand in hand in the kitchen earlier, you knew they loved each other deeply. Gelato noticed your smile and his own became impish.

 

“You agree?” he asked, bending a little at the waist to lean in closer, arms still akimbo. The heat returned to your face immediately. Agree with what? That Sorbet was terrifying or that he was handsome? Gelato was baiting you, either answer, or even none at all, a confession.

 

“A-agree with what?” you asked, looking for any foothold you could to not incriminate yourself.

 

Gelato’s eyes twinkled with mischief, but before he could clarify a deep voice echoed from the kitchen. “If there’s any devil here, it’s you Gelato. Leave the poor thing alone.” It was the second time you heard his voice, and it sounded just as powerful as the first.

 

Gelato made a clicking sound with his tongue and rolled his eyes as he finally moved enough to let you out of the bathroom doorway. You silently thanked Sorbet for stepping in, even though being called a “poor thing” had bruised your ego a bit. Gelato had moved to stand in front of the living room entrance, so you stepped into the hallway. It was clear he was trying to herd you into the kitchen, but it was unnecessary as you were desperate to make a better first impression. You wouldn’t run and hide again.

 

You sat down at the table, your chair next to Sorbet’s and across from Gelato’s. Sorbet had been less unpredictable and you hoped he would continue to defend you from his boyfriend’s teasing, even though he wasn’t completely innocent either. You got goosebumps remembering his wink.

 

“So,” Gelato said, head propped up in both his hands, “it’s you.” You curled your toes at the way he then said your name. “I was expecting you to be a little… taller.”

 

Really ?” Sorbet said with a snort. “I thought they’d be much shorter. They’re almost your height.” His voice was playful, in contrast with everything else you’d heard from him until now. The warm baritone rumbled in your chest.

 

“Well I certainly feel short, compared to most of you guys,” you said, as casual and friendly as you could. “Risotto Nero, especially.”

 

“His shoes add a good few inches,” Gelato said with a smirk. “Makes him feel scarier.” Risotto did not need shoes to help with that, although the thought made you laugh a little inside. Making fun of Risotto was not off limits for this man, and you had a feeling he was one of the only people who could actually get away with it.

 

“I was thinking we’d never get a break from all the missions,” Gelato continued. “They weren’t fun ones, either. Lots of long plane rides… and the hits were definitely on the harder side. Too many high profile targets that required way too much recon. I mean, two politicians in one week? It’s almost like Rizzie was trying to keep us away from you on purpose .” He was studying your reaction closely.

 

You weren’t sure what surprised you more: the fact that one of the men of La Squadra was openly discussing the work they did, or the cheeky nickname for Risotto Nero. While both were surprising in their own right, it was the former that actually made you squirm a little. You had assumed there was an unspoken rule amongst them all with regards to what you were allowed to know, with less being better.

 

It was so odd that you almost didn’t notice the last thing he said. Just what was Gelato trying to get at? Sorbet even looked a little irked at Gelato, giving him a harsh look but staying quiet.

 

“...Oh? Well… I’m glad I finally got to meet you two. Pesci has said a lot of nice things about you,” you said, steering the conversation away from assassination.

 

“Really? I always thought he was a little scared of us, but lately he’s been so much more outgoing,” Gelato said, drumming his dark painted fingernails on the table. “But, that’s your doing, isn’t it?”

 

“Ahh, well! I mean, he was certainly a lot shier when I first met him… I’d like to think I’ve helped him out of his shell a little. But he’s done a lot of the work on his own too. He’s really coming into his own,” you said.

 

Gelato tilted his head into one propped up palm, the other hand still drumming away on the table. “Oh, don’t sell yourself short now. It’s not just Pesc… You’ve been doing a lot for everyone on the team. We’ve both noticed. They’ve all been a lot livelier ever since you showed up.” His words sounded kind, so why did he look so smarmy? Were you imagining it? Was that just his default?

 

“Well, uh… I’m not sure what things were like before I started coming over, but I’m glad I can be a part of everyone’s life. Of course it took a bit for everyone to warm up to me, especially Ghiaccio…” you said.

 

“I hope he doesn’t hear you saying things like that,” Gelato said, eyes twinkling, teeth blinding in the bright kitchen light. Of course you knew Ghiaccio didn’t like idioms, but the joke seemed to go deeper for Gelato.

 

“Oh, no, definitely not,” you replied.

 

“Good. Don’t want you skating on thin ice with him,” he said, smirking, seemingly waiting for something in response. You weren’t sure what prompted this exactly, but you gave a small polite laugh. He raised an eyebrow at your lackluster response, and looked to Sorbet for one instead.

 

“Ha,” Sorbet said flatly.

 

Gelato pursed his lips together in a pout. He grumbled something under his breath, but got over it quickly. “So, what’s a civvie like you doing palling around with a bunch of mobsters, anyway?”

 

You weren’t expecting that question. And there was that derisive word again. “ C-civvie ?” you stuttered, trying to keep up your smile.

 

Civilian ,” Gelato practically purred . You felt yourself getting a little agitated.

 

“Ah, no… I know that… uh… I mean… they’re all my friends. I know what you all do but…” you began.

 

“If you’re trying to get recruited this really isn’t the best avenue,” Gelato said, his smile not faltering but his eyes narrowing.

 

“Huh!? No! We don’t even… we don’t talk about that part of… I’m not interested in…” you spat out.

 

“Then what are you... getting out of this?” Gelato asked, still with the same smile, but suddenly deadly serious.

 

“G--getting… Getting out of this?” You had never been interrogated by any of the others about your motivations before. It was true that it’s strange to be good friends with a squad of assassins, but your relationships with everyone were special, and they were able to transcend that, right? This house existed out of time, out of space, and what happened outside was none of your business. Here you were all just people, right?

 

“Gelato,” Sorbet warned. Gelato turned to him and his smile fell.

 

Gelato gave him a dismissive shrug. “Just curious. Don’t mean anything by it.” An obvious lie.

 

“You’re…” you whispered. Gelato’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned closer with his hand cupped to his ear to indicate you needed to speak up.

 

“You’re mean!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. It sounded so dumb and childish coming out of your mouth after all that. Gelato was taken aback, silent for a good few seconds before he launched into a frenzied fit of laughter. He sounded exactly like a hyena.

 

Sorbet gave a “tsk” beside you. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. They’re absolutely right,” Sorbet deadpanned, though his eyes laughed for him. Your nerves had built up so much pressure through the course of the evening that the dam finally burst.

 

You couldn’t help it.

 

You were choking on your own laughter before you knew it, face down on the kitchen table, tears beginning to spill over. This just spurred Gelato on even more.

 

“You sound like a dolphin !” Gelato wheezed, pointing at you. 

 

“AH! A-a hyena! Hy- you’re a hyena !” you gasped painfully in response.

 

Risotto had stepped outside his office to investigate what the fuck was making those dying animal noises. He saw you and Gelato, rendered completely unintelligible in your hysteria. He locked eyes with Sorbet, looking for some explanation, but all Sorbet could give him was an exasperated groan, index fingers raised to his temples.

Notes:

Laughter is good... that's progress, right?

He's mean right now to you but I promise it's motivated and not just for the sake of it.

Chapter 4: Uzani, His Army with Fists Closed

Summary:

Gelato makes a scene, and no one is happy about it but him.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You weren’t exactly sure where you stood with Sorbet and Gelato now. You hadn’t come over to the base since that night, blaming an influx of schoolwork, but in reality you were still playing back every moment of your first encounter with them, fixating over every word. Every look they gave you.

 

As awkward as parting had been, you had some hope that things were at least aimable between you three after both you and Gelato lost your composure. At the very least Gelato stopped cross-examining you afterwards.

 

You couldn’t blow your friends off forever, especially not when you got a text from Pesci telling you he and Prosciutto were finally back from their recent trip. You hadn’t checked in on him at all in the past few days. He said he couldn’t talk and you weren’t sure when it would be safe to contact him again. Pesci was your best friend, and he missed you. You knew you were welcome at the base. And yet…

 

Arriving at the base you were relieved to see it much more populated than the last time you were there. Ghiaccio and Illuso sat on one of the two couches in the living space, Pesci and Formaggio on the other. You gave a big friendly smile when you saw Pesci wave at you. Formaggio followed his teammate’s sightline and his face lit up as well.

 

“Has Socrates finally managed to crawl out of their cave long enough to spend some time with their favorite mafioso?” Formaggio asked, popping the collar of his jacket and pointing up at himself with two thumbs. Ghiaccio loudly exhaled in annoyance, but he wasn’t going to start anything since you had only just arrived.

 

“It’s Plato’s cave, you stooge,” you said, rolling your eyes. “And I study linguistics, not philosophy, remember?”

 

“Chompsky then,” Illuso said with a smirk. You clicked your tongue in dissatisfaction. These men weren’t ready to open the floodgates on a Chomskyan syntax rant, so you would mercifully keep quiet. “And who said that you were their favorite, cheesebrain?”

 

Formaggio put a hand on his chest and scoffed melodramatically at Illuso, before turning to you and whining your name. “Go on, tell him who your favorite is!”

 

“Pesci,” you said, not missing a beat. Pesci beamed at your reply while Formaggio scoffed yet again. Illuso snickered.

 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Formaggio said, pouting. You smiled and stuck out your tongue at him, although your face heated up just a little. It wasn’t the first time Formaggio had called you cute but you always took it facetiously. You knew he was only interested in women, and he had demonstrated time and time again that he did not think of you as one. He had put in more work than anyone (sans Pesci) with regards to making you feel better about being transgender. The way everyone had adapted so readily to using your pronouns had made you feel cherished beyond anything your parents could ever make you feel.

 

“They are , aren’t they?” an unmistakable voice called out from the living room entrance. You practically got whiplash from how fast you turned your head. Gelato. If your face was warm before, now it was on fire. Sorbet was draped over him, expression as grim as you remembered it. You knew they were affectionate, but seeing just how handsy Sorbet was getting with Gelato with everyone watching only made your cheeks brighter.

 

“Gelato! Sorbet!” Pesci said, jumping up from the couch to greet them both, hopping up and down and clapping his hands together, oblivious to your reaction. “I had no idea you two were here! I just got in this morning, and, and- oh-! Have you met-,” Pesci stuttered, turning to gesture to you, saying your name with pride. Despite your outward embarrassment you smiled internally. He was so excited to introduce his best friend.

 

“No, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure yet,” Gelato said, all teeth, chemically processed into a sickening radiance. They’d be perfect in a movie star’s mouth if it wasn’t for a couple of them being so badly chipped. You felt that familiar agitation creeping back.

 

“Don’t lie,” Illuso chided. “You met them this past Sunday.” You guessed Risotto must have told him. Pesci stopped bouncing, eyebrows raised as he turned towards Illuso.

 

“I thought I felt an extra pair of eyes,” Gelato said, his smirk growing, eyes narrowing. You pressed your lips together in a thin line. Had Illuso really been there that evening? You wish he would have done you a solid and play middle man for your introduction to the two. Knowing he probably heard some of your conversation from that night kept the heat in your cheeks from going anywhere.

 

“There was no need for you to be so rude, it’s obvious they’re sensitive,” Illuso said, ignoring Gelato’s response. Ghiaccio glared between Illuso and Gelato, eyes demanding to know just what Gelato had said to you. You were somewhat glad Illuso was sticking up for you, but felt a bit patronized. He was making this a bigger deal than it needed to be, and it was clear everyone else in the room was getting uncomfortable.

 

“And you’re all very accomodating to that, I imagine? Career assassins are some of the most tactful and delicate people I know when it comes to people’s emotions. I’ve heard that Ghiaccio has been a real sweetheart lately,” Gelato said. You heard Ghiaccio growl and you swear the room dropped a few degrees. A shiver ran down your spine. You were hoping Sorbet would step in again, like he did last time you were together, but he seemed to know where Gelato was going and looked committed to being on his side this time.

 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on here?” Formaggio said accompanied by an awkward laugh. “Come on, we’re all friends here. Let’s all… Calm. Down.” He said this to Gelato, but he did shoot a quick glance at Ghiaccio too. Ghiaccio balled his fists, but he laid back into the couch, and the sudden chill left as quick as it came. Just what… was going on right now?

 

“I’m not trying to be rude ,” Gelato said pointedly at Illuso. “I promise, I have nothing but our... friend’s best interests at heart.” Why did the way he said “friend” sound even more sarcastic than the way he said “civvie”? You thought that things had ended on a better note when you had both laughed together that night, but things seemed tenser than ever. “I would never want anything bad to happen to them. I’m sure they must be grateful to know they’re under the protection of La Squadra di Esecuzione .” Another shiver down your spine at the sound of their team’s full name. “Especially since… well… correct me if I’m wrong…” Gelato looked to Sorbet, who gritted his teeth. He looked resigned to whatever Gelato was going to say next, and squeezed Gelato’s shoulder in support.

 

“They don’t have a stand, right?”

 

It was the deadliest silence you had ever heard before the room erupted into chaos. Ghiaccio dove across the room, and grabbed a grinning Gelato by his shirt collar.

 

“What the FUCK is wrong with you?” Ghiaccio spat. Sorbet pushed Ghiaccio off Gelato, his glare deep and threatening. Ghiaccio turned his anger to him instead. “And you’re just going to let him say that? I thought it was your job to keep this creep in line!”

 

“Touch him again,” Sorbet snarled. “I dare you.” What was happening? What were they talking about? A "stand”? Why were they suddenly all at each other’s throats over this?

 

“I-I’m going to get Prosc!” Pesci squeaked, running out of the room. No, please, Pesci… don’t leave, not now. You turned frantically to Formaggio, looking for some sort of answer, but he was glaring daggers at Gelato just like everyone else.

 

“Whoa, whoa, what’s the big deal? Don’t tell me… they don’t know ?” Gelato purred. “I thought we were ‘all friends here,’ Maggi?” Formaggio looked like he was about to pounce next, but when Sorbet’s glare turned to him he flinched.

 

“Hey! Everyone, hey! S-stop!” you shouted. “What… What is all this? What’s a stand ?” All eyes were on you and it was silent again, as if they had forgotten you were in the room.

 

“What’s a stand? Well…,” Gelato replied, as if everything was normal. “This is a stand.” He moved one leg in front of the other and covered half his face with one hand, the other hand gesturing up dramatically as he struck a pose.

 

Everyone in the room flinched except you and Sorbet. Upon realizing you had no reaction though, they all groaned and looked at Gelato like he was some kind of moron. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “...Uh?”

 

“Oh, oops, sorry,” Gelato said playfully. “I mean… this is a stand.”

 

The lamp on the side table next to the couch began to raise up into the air all on its own, floating menacingly next to Gelato. Your eyes grew wide, and you stumbled back. You heard a “shit ,” under someone’s breath, and when you turned to the voice you saw Prosciutto, face buried in his hand, Pesci clutching at his other arm to pull him into the room. When you turned back more items started to move around of their own accord, like some sort of horror movie.

 

The chaos slowly began again, everyone yelling over each other while Gelato stared you down, all levity gone from his eyes. The chaos reached its crescendo around you as you felt yourself pass out from the shock.

Notes:

Cliffhanger ooooo............ I'm going to try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can, since I already have a good idea of where I want this to go.

Please comment with what you think!!!! :)

Chapter 5: The River Temarc in Winter

Summary:

A Sorbet chapter this time! :O

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You felt yourself slowly regaining consciousness. There was something cold on your forehead, and it helped ground you, although it was hard to make sense of the voices around you.

 

“Ghiaccio, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” someone muttered.

 

“It’s not like it matters now,” a voice snapped back.

 

“I’m not so sure that we can’t still salvage this,” another voice replied.

 

“Ghiaccio, move, they’re waking up!” someone else yelled.

 

The cold left your head, and you let out a groan as you sat up. You were still groggy, and only half-noticed when someone put a glass of water in your hand. It took a few seconds before you realized you were meant to drink it, but it really helped your vision come into focus when you did.

 

“Mmmnn… thanks,” you muttered, raising the back of your hand to your forehead. You looked around the couch, searching. “Where’s that... ice pack… go…? It really help…” you slurred your words. They looked at each other for a moment.

 

Ignoring your question Prosciutto asked, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better…? I think?” You took another sip of water.

 

Prosciutto nodded, waiting until he had your attention again before asking, enunciating every word clearly, “What is the last thing you remember?” You thought about it for a second before your eyes went wide.

 

“G-Gelato’s a ghost!” you managed to get out. Formaggio barked out a laugh before Illuso elbowed him. Prosciutto let out a sigh and a quiet “damn it.” You knew it sounded silly, but you didn’t know what else to say about the haunted house imagery burned in your mind. “Did that really happen?” you asked, your voice quiet.

 

Everyone looked at Prosciutto who was officially put in charge of this debriefing by Risotto who was currently having a “private conversation” in his room upstairs, too loud for the downstairs office. As you scanned over everyone’s worried faces you noticed that Sorbet was still in the room, hanging back behind everyone in the lone recliner near the living room entrance. His eyes met yours, but you couldn’t read him from this far away.

 

You looked back to Prosciutto who everyone was still waiting for. “Please… did that really happen?” you asked again, a little louder. His deep navy eyes bore into yours, the most intense look the man had ever given you.

 

“Yes,” he said simply. You felt like you might faint a second time, but you steadied yourself. Everyone else in the room also seemed surprised by Prosciutto’s answer.

 

“Did Risotto say-” Illuso began, cut off by Prosciutto’s raised hand.

 

“The Capo told me to make my own judgement call. I won’t lie to them,”  Prosciutto reaffirmed, now standing by his choice fully as if he hadn’t hesitated moments before.

 

“Prosciutto… what’s happening?” you asked, desperate. You saw a brief flicker of worry on the man’s face before he was all business again.

 

Prosciutto said, “I think it would be best to wait until the Capo is done before-”

 

“Let me do it,” came Sorbet’s deep voice, shocking everyone as much as it shocked you.

 

Ghiaccio growled. “What makes you think YOU should be the one to explain things? It was your wretched boyfriend who caused this fucking disaster!”

 

He ignored Ghiaccio, looking right at Prosciutto. “Let me do it,” he repeated.

 

Prosciutto narrowed his eyes. “Why should I?” he asked.

 

“Please,” Sorbet said adamantly. You had the feeling it wasn’t a word he used often. “Not just about stands. I want to talk to them.”

 

Although Prosciutto looked like he was mulling over the words carefully, Ghiaccio and now even Formaggio looked like they were about to start fighting with Sorbet again. Before they could say anything you spoke.

 

“It’s okay, Prosciutto… I… think I’d like to hear what he has to say,” you said, trying to come across in any way confident. You really did want to know what Sorbet seemed so desperate to tell you, but you were anxious. When Prosciutto looked at you, doubt clear on his face, you tried again. “Really,” you said, firmer this time.

 

“Okay,” Prosciutto replied with a deep exhale. Ghiaccio and Formaggio looked ready to protest, but Prosciutto shot them a stern look. Sorbet motioned you over, and you stood up from the couch, trying not to fall over. Everyone parted for you and you walked across the room towards Sorbet as he stood up from the recliner. He placed his arm on your shoulder, much more gentle than the time Gelato had put his hand in the same place. Despite his gentleness you could still feel how big and strong his hand was. It was warm. You weren’t expecting the melancholy you could finally read in his eyes.

 

He started to lead you out of the living room and you were confused. Ghiaccio couldn’t hold himself back any more. “No, no, you’re not going anywhere,” he spat. “You do it in here where we can all hear you!”

 

Sorbet tilted his head, sneering. “Hey, Ghiaccio, why don’t you make yourself useful and look for that missing ice pack?” Prosciutto had to hold Ghiaccio back by his collar to prevent him from starting another fight. Despite this, Prosciutto seemed to agree, glaring Sorbet down.

 

“Please,” Sorbet replied simply. Prosciutto’s eyebrows knitted together, and he looked at you. Sorbet gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You nodded at Prosciutto and he finally gave up. Sorbet walked you out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway.

 

“Tch. It’s not like he isn’t going to send Illuso to watch us anyway. What a pain,” he said, more to himself than anything. His hand dropped from you. You expected him to lead you to the kitchen perhaps, but not to take a detour and start up the stairs. You hesitated.

 

“Where-” you started. He put a finger up to his lips and your words stopped in your throat. He smiled, a playful smirk forming. He continued quietly up the stairs, you tip-toeing after him. Was he taking you to his room? The thought almost had you feeling scandalized.

 

Now that you were upstairs you could hear muffled yelling from behind the walls. Instead of heading to the last door at the end of the second floor hallway like you expected, he stopped in the middle, right in front of Risotto’s room. You weren’t going in there , were you!? 

 

But he just squatted next to the door, looking back up at you and putting his finger on his lips again. Just what sort of trouble was this man trying to get you in? Your curiosity got the better of you though as you pressed your ear against the wall.

 

“...and what if the Boss found out? What do you think he’d ask us to do?” Risotto’s voice was uncharacteristically dripping with anger. You’d never heard him mad before, and your heart skipped a beat.

 

“Since when do we tell shit to the Boss?” a shrill voice sneered.

 

“You idiot! Do you ever think anything through? What could happen if they know too much? The knowledge extends far past the confines of this house and our Squad. What if they find themself in the wrong place at the wrong time knowing a little too much and the next mission I have to give out has their picture on it!?” Risotto replied.

 

“You’d never hurt them,” Gelato said.

 

“You know that’s not the point,” Risotto hissed. “If the Boss sent someone else after them, I’d…” he trailed off. You could barely breathe.

 

“How the fuck did it get to this point? Pesci, I get. Formaggio, hell even Ghiaccio I get! But you, Capo,” he said, ‘capo’ dripping with sarcasm, “I respected you before this shit!”

 

“Don’t lie, you’ve never respected me,” Risotto shot back.

 

“Oh, how you wish that was true! You wish that I was just doing this out of spite, because that’s easier on your conscience! You wish I didn’t respect you, so this can be my fault! You think letting them do their homework at headquarters is keeping them safe,” he screamed back, his hyena laugh returning. “I don’t know what happened while we were gone but why the hell is some geek without a stand wrapped up in Passione? How selfish can you all be?”

 

“So you put them in more danger? What are you proving?” Risotto said, slamming his hand on the wall. You jumped.

 

Someone has to force your hand, Rizzie, since you’ve gone too soft to make the hard choices. You care about them? Then why are they still here?” Gelato yelled. You heard footsteps across the room and the sound of something being picked up.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Risotto demanded.

 

“It’s because they look like your cousin. Isn’t it ?” he said with a malicious chuckle. The chuckle slowly morphed into a choked scream as you heard the sound of glass shattering and a disgusting gurgling coming from Gelato. Was Risotto hurting him? You stared wide eyed at Sorbet who was clenching his fists hard enough to break skin with his fingernails, but he didn’t move, didn’t rush in like you thought he might at the sound of his boyfriend’s choked sobs mixed with his frightening laughter. Instead he silently stood up, putting his arm on your shoulder again to try to pull you away. You couldn’t move.

 

“He’ll be okay,” Sorbet whispered in your ear, voice deep but wavering. You finally pulled away from the door, your footsteps making more sound than Sorbet liked, but it was hard to hear anything over Gelato’s screaming.

 

You don’t remember walking down the stairs, but before you knew it you were broken out of your haze, realizing that Sorbet had sat you down at the kitchen table. He’d put a kettle on the stove and fished some tea bags out of the pantry. He set them on the counter next to two mugs and sat across from you.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sorbet said. You just looked down at your folded hands on the table. “I didn’t know Risotto was going to…”

 

“What did he do?” you asked. You had no idea what Sorbet had been intending for you to get out of that spying session.

 

“Do you want me to tell you?” he asked, words weighty. You stared at each other for a bit before you turned to watch the kettle.

 

“Maybe not,” you muttered, drumming your fingers on the table. What a day today had been. You thought that maybe you should be sad, or angry, but right now you mostly felt numb. There was still one mystery pressing down on you with terrible force.

 

“What are… stands?” you asked. That was the thing he was supposed to talk to you about to begin with.

 

He hummed. “Stands are… extensions of a person’s will. They’re the personification of the user’s soul, and grant them supernatural abilities that vary depending on the person. Only other stand users can see them, although the effects usually work on everyone regardless of their ability to defend themself.” You nodded, bewildered and a bit frightened. You had no idea what he was talking about. “Most of Passione is made up of stand users, which is how we’re able to remain so dominant in Italy.” Yikes.

 

“We’re dangerous men,” he continued, reaching out his hand to place on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. You blushed. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

 

“...I know,” you said, trying not to cry. You always knew, deep down.

 

“But you are here,” Sorbet said. You blinked and stared up at him. “Whether Gelato likes it or not.” You had not been expecting that. You had so many questions, thousands fighting each other in your brain, and you weren’t sure where to begin. You still needed time to process everything. One of your questions came tumbling out before you realized it.

 

“Does he… hate me?” you dared to ask. “Do you hate me?”

 

The kettle began to whistle. Sorbet stood up to take it off the burner and pour the hot water into the mugs with his selected tea bags.

 

“No,” he said, setting the mug down in front of you. You noticed he picked your favorite flavor of tea, whether purposefully or by coincidence you didn’t know.

 

You drank together in silence.

Notes:

Remember to Like, Comment, and Subscribe and don't forget to hit that Bell to get notifications when I post new content! See ya next time, gamers!

Chapter 6: Kiazi's Children, Their Faces Wet

Summary:

More Sorbet, since Gelato has gotten so much of the spotlight so far.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sorbet let you quietly process the idea that some people in this world had magic powers and that there was a high concentration of those people in Italy’s most influential crime syndicate. You sipped your tea and tried to keep your mind from wandering back to the sound of Gelato gurgling what was in all likelihood his own blood. 

 

This was always the secret fear that you had buried deep down about Risotto Nero. The promise of violence that surrounded him. You realized what was so haunting about Gelato’s screaming. Your mind drifted to that night in the alleyway where that familiar wet choking came from the two men who tried mugging you, becoming provoked when you tried to tell them you didn’t have anything worth stealing. Risotto had saved your life by taking theirs.

 

You always figured you were too shaken from the experience to remember the details clearly, which is why you must have missed the gunshot, even though you don’t remember seeing him hold a gun at any point that night. But why would they have clutched at their throats and begged for Risotto to stop? He was nowhere near them. You had spent so long forgetting that night, but you finally had an explanation that made sense. He had done whatever he did to those two men to Gelato.

 

You tried to think of any other signs you may have missed from the others, but nothing stuck out.

 

Except…

 

“Can Illuso turn invisible?” you said, finally breaking the long silence.

 

Sorbet snorted, amused that you chose to begin with that. “No.” He took a sip of his tea while your eyes asked him to continue. “You should ask him about that yourself,” he replied.

 

If he wouldn’t tell you about the others maybe he’d tell you about himself. “What does your stand do?” you asked.

 

He set his mug down and leaned back in his chair. “There’s rules of etiquette amongst stand users. They usually won’t reveal theirs to someone they don’t trust,” he said. It seemed like he didn’t want to tell you that either. You had the impulse to ask ‘what, you don’t trust me?’ but given the actual state of your relationship you refrained. “Unless they’re planning to kill you, that is.” Well! You decided you were good for now.

 

He explained the concept of stands again with more detail, since you were lost the first time. You found out that Gelato picking up furniture was not his only power, but something most stands were capable of. Sometimes they looked like people, but not always. Many had a limited distance they could move, but not all of them. They could all do any number of things with no real unifying theme across them. People could be born with them, but many members of Passione didn’t get them until after they joined. For every rule there was an exception, but you got the general idea.

 

It was like an entire new world had revealed itself to you. The idea that it was possible to be superhuman had you imagining all sorts of wild fantasies. There was a part of you that wanted to know how you could get your own stand, but the rational part of you told you that you were in deep enough as it was.

 

To go any deeper was dangerous. That’s what Gelato had really been saying this whole time. As angry as you wanted to be with him for the way he treated you it was hard when you knew on some level he was right. You were in too deep and he saw the only solution was getting out while you still could. But if that’s not what you wanted… if you weren’t going to back out now anyway… maybe you’d keep pushing on ahead and see how deep this chasm went.

 

That was a dangerous train of thought! The idea that one day you might make so many bad decisions that the only option left was to become a criminal… become a killer. It was more than you could bear. And yet that’s what these men were! Killers! Your best friends were killers! You always knew but now you couldn’t live in your blissful ignorance. Gelato took it away. He wanted to make you choose.

 

But how could you? You loved them all more than anything. You had given them so much of yourself, almost in some self-destructive frenzy. You poured your overflowing heart into La Squadra, never able to find a suitable place for all of your longing to go before. Not at home, not in school. You felt useful, respected, and loved here. Never anywhere else had you felt so fulfilled, other than your college studies, but it’s hard for your linguistics textbooks to return any of the love you poured into them.

 

“I started painting my nails,” Pesci had said, a long time ago now. He waved his fingers at you. Dark teal. “I’ve got some friends who have been really cool about the whole… uh… ‘gender thing.’ I mean, I don’t really know if that’s what it is, but…” he looked to you for the answer.

 

“You don’t have to know,” you said. “It’s more important that you’re doing stuff that makes you feel good, y’know? I keep telling you you’re not doing anything wrong just trying out little things that make you happier about your body. The hard questions can wait.”

 

Pesci had smiled, doubts still clear on his face, but you knew there were less of them now.

 

“Anyway… they’re these two guys, but they’re, you know… together. They’re a really cute couple, but I’d never tell them that, ahah… this is their signature color so I don’t think I’ll stick to it, but they were happy I asked to try it out. I knew big bro would say something, but I didn’t think he’d actually like them. He’s been so nice ever since you started coming around.”

 

“Prosciutto? Nice?” you had scoffed. “I swear, it feels like he’s always half a second away from yelling at me.”

 

“No, he’d never. Not at you, at least,” Pesci had replied. “He really likes you.”

 

“Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it,” you had said, cheeks warm.

 

You clutched your head in your hands and groaned. Sorbet’s bored expression turned into a smirk. You stared down at his fingernails, painted that iconic teal, tapping a quiet rhythm on the kitchen table. “Too much?” he asked, referring to the discussion on stands.

 

“Uggghhhh… I mean, yeah. But…” your head sunk out of your hands and fell onto the table.

 

Sorbet hummed in understanding, low and loud. He reached over and grabbed your mug, now empty, and carried both it and his to the sink.

 

“He’s right, isn’t he?” you asked. Sorbet sat back down across from you, head leaned lazily into an open palm. He gave another hum, questioning. “Gelato,” you clarified.

 

“That’s for you to decide,” Sorbet responded. His voice was so lovely it made your chest ache.

 

“Do you think he’s right?” you posed to him, looking for a real answer.

 

Sorbet clicked his tongue. “I do,” he said. “Although he has absolutely no tact.”

 

You laughed hollowly at the understatement. You rolled your head to the side to look up at Sorbet. “Can I…” you started, but thought better of it. “Nevermind.”

 

“Can you what?” Sorbet asked, not letting it go. He said it firmly but there was a new warmth in his voice that threatened to make you cry.

 

“Can I… tell you something… I’ve never told the others?” you asked, voice shaky, face burning.

 

Sorbet scrunched his thin perfectly manicured eyebrows together, but nodded.

 

“They’re… they’re all I have,” you said, choking down a sob. “La Squadra is all I have.” You buried your head in your arms.

 

I love them,” you weeped.

 

You flinched when you felt Sorbet’s hand fall firmly on your head. You weren’t sure why it was shaking. You remained face down while he shushed you, waiting patiently until you were completely cried out.

 

 


 

 

“Please, Gelato… you’re all I have…” Sorbet croaked, face sticky with a spray of crimson red and dried tears, clutching Gelato tighter.

 

“Shhh… shh shh shh,” Gelato shushed him, rubbing soothing circles on his back with his blood soaked hands. “It’s okay now. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

 

That was the first time in Gelato’s life he had ever said “I love you.”

Notes:

Gotta love that... [clutches fist] ...angst.

Chapter 7: Shaka, When the Walls Fell

Summary:

Tender moment with Risotto Nero.

Notes:

Risotto is Shaka in this case LOL.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

You and Sorbet heard uneven footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and turned towards the sound. Gelato stood in the entryway, leaning against the wall for support. His face looked sickly pale, contrasting heavily with the bright still-wet blood pooling under the makeshift bandage on his throat. His movie star smile was ruined by the blood staining his teeth, running down his chin when he started laughing. “Did you enjoy the show, at least?” he spluttered.

 

You gagged at the sight. Gelato glanced at you and ran his fingers through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “This is nothing, you should see the other guy,” he laughed weakly.

 

“We left as soon as it started,” Sorbet responded to the initial question, tone cold and even but eyes glistening with worry. Gelato knew you had both spied?

 

“Heh. Nothing I didn’t deserve,” Gelato said, wiping the pooling blood from his lips with the back of his hand. “I think he went easy on me.”

 

“You went too far,” Sorbet said.

 

“Ehhh, I’ll make it up to him. Buy him a new picture frame,” Gelato responded. “For as special as that picture is, you think he wouldn’t stick it in something so cheap.” Well, that solved the mystery of the breaking glass. Sorbet grunted, annoyed. Gelato continued, “You think the big softie is taking money out of his own check to supplement our pay cuts again? He’s always such a bleeding heart.” As if to punctuate the last part, he coughed up some blood.

 

Your eyes got wider at the silhouette that slowly walked up behind Gelato. Risotto Nero put his hand harshly down on Gelato’s shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.

 

“Why don’t you get some rest?” Risotto said. It was nonnegotiable. Gelato didn’t object, and Sorbet seemed to take this as his cue to leave as well. He got up and offered his body for Gelato to lean on for support, helping him walk upstairs.

 

When they were out of sight Risotto sat down at the table with you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his mask completely gone. You could hear the tenderness in each word.

 

“I think so,” you said, voice shaky post-cry. He leaned back in his chair, looking a bit more relieved. You chewed on the inside of your mouth, fingers tapping against each other uncontrollably. You looked up at his eyes, the same color as Gelato’s blood. You looked away.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, bitter. You weren’t sure what he was apologizing for, the sight of Gelato’s blood or for the fact that you were ever here to begin with.

 

“What now?” you asked, almost too quiet to hear.

 

“I don’t know,” Risotto said, voice strained. It was almost painful to hear how vulnerable and unsure he sounded. “It’s selfish of us…” He stood up, approaching you, and your blood ran cold. “It’s downright evil of me…” You shivered, heart beating so fast it felt fit to burst.

 

He leaned beside you, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Other than the night he offered his hand to you in that alley way, he had never touched you once in all the time you knew him.

 

“We don’t want to lose you.”

 

You felt dizzy. You had always thought yourself a burden to the man, and maybe in some ways you were, but he was willing to bear that burden if it meant he still got to see that bright smile. Risotto Nero’s true feelings had drowned you both so suddenly that they were as much a surprise to him as they were to you. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a whimper, tears unable to form since you’d used them all up earlier.

 

He thought back to the first time he met you. When you and Pesci had walked into the small cafe your heart practically stopped beating in your chest. His dark black sclera and piercing red irises immediately met your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly but otherwise emotionless. Prosciutto muttered a “fuck” under his breath. Pesci looked between the two of them and you, stuttering out an apology to Prosciutto, no, to you, no, to both of you, no, to his Capo… until he was unsure who he was apologizing to or what he was apologizing for exactly.

 

Risotto finally broke eye contact with you, allowing you to breathe again, and turned to Prosciutto who was massaging his temples with his eyes closed tight. “An… acquaintance,” he said, almost too quiet to hear.

 

The whole time you sat with them he watched your every move, down to the smallest twitch of your lip or the labored way you were breathing.

 

You were the spitting image of his late cousin, and he hated you for it.

 

But weeks later, when he heard your screams coming from that dark alley, he felt his body moving automatically despite every thought he had telling him to leave you. He berated himself for his weakness, blaming his sentimentality for his teammates. It was for them, he told himself. For Pesci. For Prosciutto.

 

“You’re one of us…” he said, clutching you tight. “We’ll never let anyone hurt you.”




 

You were finally back on the living room couch, leaning against Pesci, too tired to sit up. The glass of water you had been given upon waking up earlier had been refilled and placed into your hands again. Your voice was scratchy, your eyes puffy and red.

 

“When I see that little shit again,” Ghiaccio grumbled. You smiled up at him, causing him to go quiet.

 

“It’s okay, Ghia…” you said. He gave a “tsk.” Any other time he would complain about the nickname but he’d let it slide tonight. “Don’t be too mad at Gelato… I think… he means well.”

 

“Are you joking ?” Ghiaccio yelled. You groaned, his voice far too overstimulating for you in your current state.

 

“I know you like to see the best in everyone, but you’re allowed to be angry at someone for once,” Illuso said, frown deep.

 

“Illuso’s right, you don’t have to put up with that shit,” Formaggio said.

 

“Oh, I am angry, don’t worry,” you said, giving a creaky laugh. “But mostly tired.”

 

“Still…” Formaggio said.

 

“It’s not like things were perfect at the start with you guys, either,” you said, sipping your water. “I didn’t give up on any of you, did I?”

 

“You’re too nice for your own good,” Prosciutto scolded.

 

“Believe me. I know,” you said. You scratched behind your ear, and held out your glass of water. “I hope it wouldn’t be asking too much… if I could get some ice? Room temperature water has a bad mouth feel.”

 

Formaggio grabbed the glass from you and offered it to Ghiaccio. Ghiaccio glared at him, refusing to take it and Formaggio laughed. “Come on,” he said, “They’ll think it’s cool.” He had a shit-eating grin.

 

“No!” Ghiaccio said. You tilted your head in curiosity. Ghiaccio took one look at your doe-eyed expression and muttered under his breath. “Fine,” he said, snatching the glass.

 

Before your eyes crystalline fractals appeared within the liquid, glistening ice crystals forming in slow motion. You were mesmerized.

 

“He can go all the way to zero kelvin,” Pesci whispered beside you. You doubted that very much, but were amazed all the same.

 

In that moment you thought back to your first meeting with Ghiaccio, when you had told him not to worry because you were bad at breaking the ice too. He was so furious, and you had no idea why.

 

Formaggio had said you’d think whatever Ghiaccio was going to do would be “cool.”

 

You gasped for air and everyone panicked. “Oh my god, Ghiaccio, what did you do?” Formaggio said, thinking you had started sobbing. “Are you okay!?”

 

“Don’t look at me! Pesci said something to them!” Ghiaccio said, freezing the entire glass until it was all solid ice.

 

“Huh!? No, I-” Pesci started, before you let out another laugh. Everyone sighed in relief until they realized that you could not stop yourself for minutes on end.

 

After today, you needed it.

Notes:

I know how self-indulgent this whole thing is but you clicked on an X Reader fanfic so I figure you can sympathize. Sometimes it feels nice to write some shit that's just utterly transparent as a power fantasy. Just being so likable that a bunch of mobsters have no choice but to love you. I know it's unrealistic but I think that's why this genre of fic exists lol.

Chapter 8: The Beast at Tanagra

Summary:

Gelato asks you a question. Even though you refuse to answer, you still manage to tell him much more than you want him to know.

Notes:

Felt sick yesterday, sorry I didn't update. I know I haven't promised any sort of update schedule or anything, but still, I really wanted to write and wasn't able to.

 

I did draw this epic meme of the Reader and Risotto though.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Can you read minds?” you asked, another guess on top of many, many others. You, Illuso, Formaggio, and Pesci sat in the base’s living area, late afternoon light warmly illuminating the space.

 

“Perhaps,” Illuso purred. “Although I wouldn’t need to use a stand to know what you’re thinking.”

 

You pouted. “Is that a yes?” You had been trying to guess for days now. You knew the general theme of Ghiaccio’s stand, but everyone else had decided to make it a game to find out theirs. Ghiaccio had grumbled that it was childish, but you suspected that he was resentful towards Formaggio for making him reveal his stand first, excluding him from the activity. He had too much pride to ever admit he felt left out, though.

 

“You’ll never guess it,”  Formaggio said with a smirk. “Trust me, it’s not obvious at all.” 

 

“Ugh.... okay, but none of the rest of you can read minds, right?” you asked, thinking back on every compromising thought you could have had in any of the mens’ presence since you met them.

 

“Afraid I know all the naughty thoughts you have about me?” Formaggio whispered with a mocking grin. You threw a pillow at his head, causing Illuso to snicker.

 

“You’re fine, don’t worry,”  Pesci said, putting his hand on your shoulder. “Although guessing Formaggio’s stand will be no small feat, either.” He turned to give Formaggio a goofy grin, but got a face full of pillow from the man instead. You filed that clue away for later.

 

You turned to Illuso. “Can I have a hint at least?” you whined.

 

Illuso shook his head and leaned back into the couch, looking smug as ever. Formaggio however, couldn’t help but lean a bit closer and whisper loudly to you, making eye contact with Illuso the whole time, “It’s a tough one alright, but I’m sure you can figure it out if you give yourself enough time to reflect on it.” Illuso scowled and snatched the pillow out of Pesci’s lap, throwing it back at Formaggio’s face, much harder than you had.

 

You looked thoughtful. “Uh… reflections? Mmm… something with mirrors maybe?” Illuso folded his arms together dramatically and grimaced. You smiled victoriously, one step closer to figuring out his secret. 

 

The sound of the front door unlocking had you all turn towards the sound, seeing Ghiaccio stomp in right past the common area entrance and towards the stairs. “Ten minutes,” he shouted from the stairwell, now out of sight. “You better be ready.”

 

Formaggio sneered. “He says that like we aren’t the ones who’ve been waiting on him.”

 

Formaggio and Ghiaccio had invited you and Pesci out to a sports bar to watch a football game with them this evening. Even if you weren’t the biggest sports fan, Ghiaccio was the most fun to be around when he was cheering on his favorite team. When you first went out with the two of them you had been afraid when you saw his team losing, fearing the worst of his awful temper. You knew how excessive sports fans could be in their rage, having had some particularly intense sports fans in your family growing up. As a child the loud noise and enraged swearing had left you anxious and shut up in your bedroom for hours on end whenever a game was on.

 

To your absolute shock you found Ghiaccio was easy-going no matter who was winning, enjoying the athleticism for what it was. He’d shout and swear but you could tell he was having fun the entire time. Even though you didn’t feel particularly invested in the games, and you still hated the noise at their favorite sports bar, you would go when the mood struck you if for no other reason than to see Ghiaccio at his happiest. Pesci coming too this time was an added bonus.

 

Formaggio and Pesci stood up to head upstairs themselves and gather their things before Ghiaccio decided that ten minutes actually meant five. They knew better than to keep him waiting. Formaggio turned to Illuso and asked, “You coming too? I’ve got enough room in the car for one more.”

 

“I’ll pass,” Illuso said, standing up and stretching, heading in the opposite direction as the other two. “Not my thing.”

 

“Suit yourself!” Formaggio responded, him and Pesci heading out of sight. Illuso stopped his saunter right under the common area’s wall mirror, then peered over his shoulder towards you.

 

“Have fun with the jocks,” he said with a sly grin, before his body started to fracture slowly, glowing an incandescent cyan at the jagged edge where his body disappeared. The reflection of him remained unchanged, however; in fact it almost seemed to become more vivid and hyperreal the more that the “real” Illuso disappeared. You let out a yelp, hand jumping up to cover your now agape mouth. His reflection laughed, and then with a blink it disappeared completely as well. Since Formaggio had given you the advantage he couldn’t resist the chance to one-up you and tilt the scale back in his favor, finally revealing his stand ability on his own terms. Your little yelp was all he needed to feel triumphant.

 

You slumped back onto the couch, eyes wide, lips pressed tight with a groan stuck deep in your throat. You’d have to get him back for that later. Recovering from the shock, you took stock of your bag to make sure you were ready to leave with everyone. You were on edge, now knowing Illuso could be hidden in the room with you whenever he wanted and had definitely been many times before, considering all he knew about you.  

 

“Looks like my master plan failed pretty spectacularly, huh?” a shrill voice called out, and you let out another yelp. You glared in the direction of Gelato standing in the living room entrance, hands on his hips with that same wicked smile. Great, the last person you wanted to see. He’d been absent from your life for the past few days following the “incident”, but not from your thoughts, unfortunately. You noticed his throat, wound still visible. It was healing nicely all things considered, but it was still a bit grisly to look at. You remained silent, staring him down, latent anger resurfacing. “I mean, you’re still here,” he continued.

 

“Dude, what do you want?” you growled. Tonight was supposed to be fun, and the last thing you wanted was another surprise from the man.

 

He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, come on now. I’m waving my little white flag over here. I concede victory to you!”

 

“I didn’t win anything. We weren’t playing a game,” you said, suddenly exhausted.

 

“Nothing so frivolous, no. I was trying to invoke wartime imagery there,” he said with a tilt of his head, a playful aura about the man. At least he didn’t sound malicious, but you weren’t going to let your guard down one bit. Especially not with him leaving the entryway to walk further into the room. You glared harder as if to manifest some sort of barrier between the two of you with your eyes alone. If you ever got a stand one day you hoped its power was repelling Gelato.

 

“That’s even worse,” you replied. “Seriously, what do you want?”

 

He stopped on the opposite end of the couch from you, and sat down on the arm of it. At least he respected you enough to not to come into your personal space right now. His smile fell in one fluid motion, and you shivered internally. His teasing was already putting you in a sour mood, but you weren’t a fan of serious Gelato either.

 

He looked like whatever he was about to say was something he really didn’t want to say. He was clearly having some sort of mental debate with himself across from you. A hopeful part of you thought that maybe he was trying to apologize, but was just absolutely terrible at it. You clenched your fists to stop yourself from just yelling at him to spit it out already.

 

His expression was completely opaque when he turned back to you with dark eyes. “I don’t like that Sorbet let you listen in on me and the Capo,” Gelato said. You remembered the sound of him gurgling his blood and clenched your fists tighter, trying to lock the memory away.

 

You were confused. For some reason you thought that Sorbet bringing you upstairs to eavesdrop was a part of some convoluted plan the both of them had worked on together, and that you were meant to hear every word. As if it was supposed to make you more sympathetic to Gelato for tormenting you, or show you Risotto’s true nature. When he came downstairs he seemed to know the two of you had spied, but now it seemed like he never planned on it. You furrowed your eyebrows together, waiting for him to explain.

 

“What did you and Sorbet talk about?” he asked instead, a mix of embarrassment and desperation hidden by a facade of calmness. You could see right through him, and it made you feel a little excited to finally have a weakness to exploit.

 

“Guy’s your boyfriend, what are you asking me for?” you said, more smug than you were intending. Gelato growled in response. It must have been a major hit to his ego that there could be anything his boyfriend would say to you that he’d be left in the dark about.

 

“What did you talk about?” he repeated, losing his cool just a little more. A shiver ran down your spine at the thrill of having some sort of leverage over Gelato. You felt yourself becoming bolder, despite a voice in your head begging you to quit while you were ahead. You want him to like you, right? He’s being vulnerable with you, this is your chance. Just answer him!

 

Prosciutto’s words came to mind. You’re too nice for your own good. It sounded like a challenge to you in your current state of mind. You raised an eyebrow at the man opposite of you, the thought of Sorbet’s strong hand so gently resting on your shoulder in the back of your mind.

 

“Are you jealous?” you hummed. What the hell were you doing? This wasn’t like you at all!

 

Gelato looked absolutely astonished, and you were worried you went too far. You felt your confidence falter, but tried to remain in control now that you had finally won some ground. However, everything fell apart immediately when his expression gave way to the most devilish smirk you had seen from him yet.

 

“Not at all,” he said softly, voice dripping with delight. “Should I be? ” He was begging you to dig your grave even deeper. You had made a mistake, attacking his trust in Sorbet like that. All you had done was reveal more of your own weaknesses instead of capitalizing on any of his. This is why you didn’t play games like this! Your blood was icy in your veins, but your face was on fire.

 

You could barely process him moving closer before his face was already hovering right next to yours. “He’s really quite handsome, isn’t he? You have good taste. I approve,” he purred in your ear and you gasped quietly. He chuckled at the reaction. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” he said. “But only because I think he already knows....”

 

Formaggio, Ghiaccio, and Pesci entered the room to the sight of Gelato walking away from you with one of his signature hyena laughs. Your face was completely saturated with your boiling blood, hands clutching over your ears and eyes shut tight as if Gelato would disappear from existence if you could only stop hearing and seeing him.

 

“Hey, hey, hey! What the hell did you do this time!?” Ghiaccio asked, snarling, but Gelato paid him no mind and walked right past him, still laughing uncontrollably.

 

A worried and irritated Formaggio looked at you and asked, “What happened?”

 

“Nothing!” you said, springing up from the couch and grabbing your bag, a forced smile plastered on your face. You stood up and walked right past them as well, but in the opposite direction from Gelato. Opening the front door you gestured outside and said, “I’m ready, let’s go!” They stared at you, eyes demanding an answer, but when they didn’t leave through the door you just walked out yourself.

 

They stood in silence a few more moments before Pesci scratched the back of his head and said, “Well, you heard them. Let’s go.” He knew better to put you on the spot when you got like this. He’d ask you later when the two of you were alone.

 

They were all kind enough to not push it any further, despite it being the only thing on their minds the entire car ride to the bar.

Notes:

👀

Chapter 9: Sokath, His Eyes Uncovered

Summary:

You go to the bar with your friends.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Formaggio had known about the existence of “Pesci’s friend” way before Prosciutto ever did.

 

 His casual and carefree demeanor had disarmed Pesci during a night out drinking. They weren’t the typical pair for an outing, but Pesci’s noticeable surge in self confidence had Formaggio intrigued. Pesci, sensing approval from Formaggio for the first time, and even a hint of pride, had agreed to the outing without hesitation. Formaggio and Pesci chatted the night away in good spirits, and Formaggio felt it was the perfect time to voice his suspicions that perhaps a lady had entered the picture, allowing Pesci to finally “man up.”

 

Pesci, usually insecure and embarrassed when his teammates discussed his failure to be a true man, simply shrugged.

 

“No, nothing like that. They’re not a lady, just a friend,” said Pesci. Formaggio raised an eyebrow at that. A friend? Outside the squad? Someone from a different branch of Passione?

 

The bartender came by to take their orders. Formaggio ordered a beer and Pesci ordered a glass of milk. It took everything Forormaggio had not to point it out and mock him for it. Old habits die hard Formaggio mused. Drinking milk or mocking Pesci, it applied to both.

 

“So, who is this guy?” he asked instead.

 

Pesci looked thoughtful, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know quite how to say it. He scratched the back of his neck, the familiar shyness creeping back through as he gave his teammate a big bashful smile. “Ah… how do I say this? They aren’t exactly a guy either? They’re still trying to explain the whole thing to me, but it’s like… they want people to use ‘they’ for them? And call them neutral stuff… like, just ‘person’ or whatever.”

 

Formaggio gave Pesci a blank expression, then his eyebrows pressed together in thought. “But, like… what are they actually then?”

 

Pesci tapped his fingers on the bar, trying to focus. He knew he’d have this discussion with one of his teammates eventually, but he wasn’t expecting it to be with Formaggio. Formaggio’s reaction was actually the one he’d been most afraid of, maybe second only to Prosciutto.

 

The guy was a man through and through and although he was very respectful to the occasional off-and-on-again girlfriend, it was clear he had some firm beliefs about his role in those relationships. Still, everyone on La Squadra had readily accepted Gelato and Sorbet when they started dating, even though they could still be a little childish about it at times.

 

“They’re uh… actually just that. Like… I don’t know what they were… born as ? They never told me...” Pesci trailed off and thought about what he said for a second, then added, “Or uh, not born as, but what the uh… ‘the doctor said they were’?” That was closer to what you had said, right? “Again, they’re still trying to explain it to me too so I don’t totally get it, but they said they’re ‘taking hormones’ to look how they want to…” 

 

He knew you had said not every trans person took hormones, but he thought adding that detail about your transition might add some form of validity that would make things clearer for Formaggio. He could explain the nuances later, especially since he was still trying to grasp them himself. You had said you were open about it and didn’t mind Pesci telling his friends if it made it easier for Pesci to talk about his own feelings with them. Pesci was definitely not ready for that level of discussion about himself with Formaggio, but it still felt good to get some of the information off his chest.

 

“Anyway… I don’t know, they seem very sure of themself. It makes me… feel more sure about myself too…” Pesci hoped Formaggio wouldn’t read too much into that. “So I’ve been feeling pretty good lately, y’know?” 

 

Formaggio did not know. He had a hard time connecting this mystery friend’s situation to Pesci’s life. Maybe just knowing someone that was confident had indirectly inspired him? But La Squadra was filled with confident people who had known Pesci longer than this… person had. Nevermind trying to wrap his head around what was going on gender-wise with this stranger. Well, he had to say something.

 

“Oh. Cool?” Formaggio said. Nailed it. Meanwhile his swiss cheese brain tried to make any sense of the information. Pesci nodded and smiled to himself as he took a sip of his milk, knowing that Formaggio had absolutely no fucking idea what he had just said. But this whole night had been an exercise in vulnerability, and so far he’d faced no rejection or spite. Hell, he’d let Pesi order milk, even if his lips were noticeably pursed tight the whole time.

 

Feeling bolder, he shrugged, consciously putting in a lot of effort to make it look as casual as possible. “Plus, the whole idea of ‘manning up’ is kind of dumb, right? Like… who decides what that means... right?”

 

Formaggio stopped thinking to himself and focused on what Pesci was saying, his eyebrow quirked. Pesci scratched at his forehead then clasped both hands around his glass, staring at the white liquid within. He wished you were here to explain it instead. You always sounded so smart. “Haha, like… someone is only a man because of how they’re able to get a lady? Like, you get what I’m saying? Right?” He tapped his fingers against the glass, a little scared of what he was going to say next. “If that’s the case, well, then… uh… why doesn’t everyone treat Sorbet and Gelato the way they treat me?”

 

Well. Formaggio had nothing to say to that.






You took a sip of your fruity cocktail and smiled lazily over at the television set above the bar. Formaggio and Ghiaccio stood around with several other bar patrons and watched the football game it was playing with excitement. Pesci and you were sitting back at a booth table farther from the noise of the crowd. You had lost track of the action but the score in the corner of the screen let you know that your friends’ team was winning.

 

You didn’t drink often but you needed something to take the edge off tonight since you were still reeling from your encounter with Gelato. Pesci had a glass of water and was chewing on an ice cube, pretending to watch the screen as well, though you knew he was here more to hang out with his friends than to watch the game.

 

A commercial break caused Formaggio and Ghiaccio to break away from the crowd and take their seats back at the booth with the two of you. Ghiaccio took a sip of his beer and cringed. He didn’t drink much either since he hated the taste of alcohol. He liked a glass of wine during a special occasion or a fancy dinner, but otherwise he avoided the stuff. He’d have a drink socially on occasion during football games, but it was more of an affectation since he usually didn’t end up finishing his first beer at all.

 

You could tell that Formaggio was starting to get just a little bit tipsy though. Ghiaccio was giving his analysis of the game so far and Formaggio was nodding along, but when you took a peek in his direction you could tell he was spacing out a little. He met your gaze and gave you a wink so you smiled and stuck your tongue out at him in response. He chuckled silently before turning his attention back to Ghiaccio.

 

The night progressed at a comfortable pace and you and Pesci eventually gave up on trying to pretend to watch the game and started talking to each other.

 

“Hey, by the way,” Pesci said during a lull in the conversation. “Are you, uh… alright?”

 

“Huh?” you asked. You thought you seemed pretty content right now.

 

“Earlier, before we left… you and Gelato…”  Pesci said, prompting you to continue.

 

You groaned. You had completely forgotten about it. “It was nothing, I promise,” you said, shrugging.

 

“You seemed pretty upset about it,” Formaggio said, appearing beside the table. You frowned. “He didn’t say anything fucked up, did he?”

 

“Nooooo,” you whined. “It was nothing! Seriously!”

 

“Because I can, uh, get him for you,” he said, flexing his arm. He said it as a joke but you could tell he actually meant it.

 

“No.” You twirled your straw around in your drink, and sighed. “It’s fine, seriously, so we’re not going to talk about it anymore!”

 

“Fine,” Formaggio said, disappointed, his flexed arm falling to his side. He scooted into the booth to sit next to you. You untensed your shoulders in relief that he was finally dropping it.

 

“Not fine!” Ghiaccio interjected, now at the table as well. “That bastard still needs to answer for-”

 

“Aaagghh!” you groaned, cutting him off. “Ghia, please!” Ghiaccio rolled his eyes, muttering to himself about the nickname. He sat down next to Pesci across from you. You tried to steer the conversation towards anything else, going with the first thing that came to mind.

 

“So! Stands!” you said, turning to Formaggio beside you. “I think Pesci said that yours has something to do with, uh… feet?”

 

Formaggio barked out a laugh. “Nah. That’s part of the name though. Little Feet.”

 

“Your stand has a name? A really shitty name?” you asked, laughing back at him. Formaggio punched your arm lightly.

 

“Yeah, all stands have names,” Pesci said. “Some shittier than others.” Formaggio glared and pointed at Pesci, then drew his thumb across his throat. You’re next , he seemed to say. Pesci smiled at the threat.

 

“Didn’t Sorbet tell you that?” Ghiaccio asked. You shook your head. That had been one detail he had not mentioned. You tried to keep yourself from blushing at the mere thought of the man.

 

Formaggio snapped his fingers, pointing to you now. “Oh, hey!” he said. “Did Sorbet tell you what his stand is?” This question seemed to get Ghiaccio and Pesci’s attention, and they both leaned in a little closer, looking at you intently.

 

“No?” All three of your friends leaned back, various looks of disappointment on their faces. “Why, what about it?”

 

“Didn’t think he would have,” Ghiaccio muttered.

 

“None of us know,” Pesci said. Huh.

 

“Yeah, except Gelato and the Capo. Dude never gets paired up with anyone else but them, and his lips are completely zipped on what it does,” Formaggio said.

 

“I think Iluso knows,” Pesci said,“but Sorbet swore him to secrecy.”

 

“No way! If IIluso knew he would have definitely told me,”  Formaggio responded.

 

“I bet he’s embarrassed. It’s not like he’s ever been on a solo mission, so it must be pretty weak,” Ghiaccio said.

 

The three of them gossiped about their various theories for a little while. Quite the mystery, it seemed. You pondered it yourself for a while, but once your mind got stuck on Sorbet you felt your face growing warm.

 

The last time you saw him you had been weeping. He had placed his hand on your head so kindly, so gently… you had felt it shaking the entire time, although you were in no emotional state to say anything about it. Of course you thought the man was handsome, you had thought so from the moment you saw him. Hell, you even thought Gelato was handsome but luckily you were spared from that train of thought for now.

 

His first thought when you entered the kitchen was to make you tea… how cute was that? You cursed Gelato for causing this thought spiral. You hadn’t fixated over Sorbet like this at all until right now. If anyone noticed your cheeks you hoped they’d think it was from the alcohol, even though you hadn’t had very much.

 

Eventually the game was over (your friends’ team won, so that was nice) and everyone felt pretty tired and ready to leave. Formaggio was only a little drunk, but it was obvious he was playing it up when he leaned on you for support as you walked back to the car. Formaggio definitely touched you a lot, giving you firm hugs in greeting or putting you in a headlock when he teased you. He was even more affectionate with you when he had a bit to drink.

 

Formaggio whispered into your ear as the four of you walked across the parking lot. “I’m serious, though,” he said, speech slightly slurred, “If you need me to uh… have a walk with the guy. Talk with the guy… I’ve got your back. I hate to see you upset.” He lowered his arm from your shoulder and wrapped it protectively around your waist. “I mean it,” he said with a voice deeper than usual, squeezing you a little. You would just not be able to stop blushing tonight, would you?

 

Pesci looked at the two of you thoughtfully, and smiled.

 

Formaggio let you go and climbed into the passenger seat of his car. He’d given Ghiaccio the keys since he gave up on his one beer pretty early into the night and you had only just gotten your license recently despite your age. You did not trust yourself driving Formaggio’s expensive looking sports car. Ghiaccio was going to drop you off at your place first before heading back to the base. The whole trip you could feel Formaggio staring at you from the rear view mirror, and you averted your gaze.

 

Formaggio was a man through and through, and quite the ladies’ man at that. He had never had any reason to believe he was anything other than straight. When Gelato and Sorbet got together he’d been kind of weird about it at first. Sometimes he and Illuso made jokes about it, but he’d knocked it off pretty quick after you started coming around the base.

 

Pesci told Formaggio things that he didn’t tell any of the other La Squadra members. He had tried hard to wrap his head around a lot of the stuff Pesci taught him, and Pesci was very patient with Formaggio. After he and Pesci started becoming better friends and hanging out more frequently he grew more and more terrified of the idea of ever meeting you.

 

For an entire month after Pesci introduced the two of you he’d been hyper conscious of everything he said. He knew he was a jackass and he knew he had no filter. He had spent so much effort in preparing to meet you that he poured over books Pesci would lend him to make sure he had no chance of messing up. And he hated reading!

 

Pesci was patient, especially since he knew that he was only giving Formaggio secondhand information that he’d yet to fully take in himself, but you were the expert. You’d expose him in a second if he messed up. Pesci had shared a lot of personal details about your transition with him, and even though he knew you had given your permission he still felt sleazy. So instead of doing right by you and treating you like a normal person, he acted like you were fragile and over-thought every interaction with you. You thought he hated you, for Christ’s sake!

 

But then he got to know you, and he found out that treating you well just came naturally to him once he thought of you as a friend and not some abstract looming threat judging his every move. He saw your flaws and your strengths, learned your likes and dislikes, and found out that there were some video games you were just naturally better at than he was.

 

Formaggio had no reason to believe he was anything other than straight.

 

So why were you all he thought about?

Notes:

Formaggio X Reader? In my Sorbet x Gelato x Reader fanfic? It's more likely than you think.

LOL................... going to have to amend the tags on this thing now oops.

Chapter 10: Kailash, When it Rises

Summary:

You try to bury the hatchet with Gelato.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stands, Sorbet, and Gelato were the new normal and you’d adapt to it like you adapted to everything else about La Squadra. You fell back into your usual routine pretty easily. The animosity that Gelato engendered from his teammates after revealing Passione’s best kept secret wasn’t completely gone, especially not between him and Risotto, but the fact that you were so utterly in awe of everyone’s powers had at least eased tensions a bit for the rest of them. It was hard to stay too mad about you knowing stands existed when it meant you were giddy practically any time one of them did what basically amounted to a cheap parlor trick. A floating object in your line of sight or being suddenly picked up by an invisible set of arms was all it took to impress you, and the novelty of your reactions never seemed to wear off.

 

At this point you knew what the majority of La Squadra’s stands did, although Risotto and Prosciutto preferred to keep that information private. The others respected their wishes enough to not outright tell you, but sometimes when you and Formaggio were alone you’d throw out a couple theories about Prosciutto’s stand from what little clues you had.

 

You never asked anyone about Risotto’s stand.

 

Your friends had no qualms disregarding Gelato’s privacy, however. They felt it was only fair since the whole situation was his fault. His stand, Chained To You, involved immobilizing others and although it wasn’t very powerful just on its own he had good synergy with a partner, Sorbet or otherwise.

 

“I think he used it on me when we first met,” you had whispered to Pesci once when you thought Gelato was too absorbed in Sorbet on the other couch to hear you.

 

“Keep telling yourself that!” Gelato had called from across the room, despite your best efforts to keep quiet. You glared at him to cover up your embarrassment. The guy could be utterly wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms with the most zoned out expression possible, and yet he seemed to snap to attention whenever it was least convenient for you.

 

Having actually been inside your own mind and body the night you met Gelato, you had enough insight to know in all likelihood had nothing to do with your terrible first impression. Well, not on a supernatural level anyway, since he was still very talented at making you flustered without much effort. Even if Gelato’s hostility had fizzled away into more of an irreverent teasing, you wouldn’t say you were any closer to him or Sorbet. Formaggio and Illuso would tease you sometimes, but you had mutual trust and respect making up the backbone of those relationships. Gelato did not have the luxury of your trust or respect. Everything he said was received with immediate indignation, no matter how benign the jab was.

 

As for Sorbet, he had fallen back into his silence. You wanted to thank him for comforting you while you had wept on that night, but you felt like the window of opportunity had closed. Every time you thought about talking to him again your aversion to Gelato held you back. Some part of you was trying to prove that Gelato teasing you about finding Sorbet attractive did not get to you at all. Obviously the best way to prove this to Gelato was to never talk to Sorbet ever again and just watch him from afar when you thought no one was looking.

 

But there was a part of you that still felt guilty about what you had said to Gelato. Asking him if he was jealous of you for talking to his boyfriend was inappropriate, even if you were rightly angry with him. You wanted to just mentally call it even and never bring it up again, but your conscience wouldn’t let you. Finally after it had festered long enough you decided you would extend the olive branch with an apology. He never apologized to you for anything he did, but you’d be the bigger person.

 

One night when you saw him disentangle himself from Sorbet on the couch and head to the kitchen you tried your best to inconspicuously follow after him. He was staring at the contents of the refrigerator with disinterested eyes, but his face lit up with that mischievous smile when he noticed you.

 

“Gelato,” you began, voice less confident than you were hoping, “I’ve, uh… been meaning to talk to you.”

 

This really caught his interest, and he closed the fridge and leaned against the counter, giving you his full attention. “Oh?”

 

You took a deep breath. “I… wanted to apologize to you.” He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, clearly surprised you felt the need to apologize for anything. “I’m sorry that I asked you if you were jealous about me talking to Sorbet… I know that it wasn’t-“

 

“Is that all?” he said, stopping you. His smile remained but his eyes looked completely detached again. “You don’t need to apologize for that. It was funny. Only apologize about things that actually matter.” He turned away from you to rummage in the pantry. Did your apology… bore him?

 

You could feel your face grow hotter at his dismissal. You were banking on an emotional and touching moment to finally bridge the gap between the two of you, but at this rate nothing would change.

 

“Your neck is looking a lot better,” you blurted out, instantly regretting bringing it up. “I’m glad!”

 

But he didn’t seem to care. He gave a little hum in response, eyes still taking stock of the pantry. How could you make this olive branch more enticing?

 

“I can tell you what me and Sorbet talked about,” you said a little too quickly, hoping to regain his interest. His head snapped back to you, eyes narrowed and expression serious. It made you flinch a little, and you hastily added, “I mean! It wasn’t even anything too interesting! I had no reason not to tell you since it’s not a big deal, but for some reason I didn’t. But uh… it’s not like, particularly juicy or anything.”

 

Gelato smiled again and made a little noise in his throat that was probably a laugh. “I’m all ears,” he assured you.

 

“Well…” you said, avoiding eye contact by staring at his fading throat wound. You averted your eyes from that as well and looked at the kitchen table instead. “We came back down here after… you know… and he made us some tea.”

 

“What a dear,” Gelato said with a chuckle.

 

“And he told me about stands…” you said. Gelato crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“And?” he probed. You weren’t sure what part of your conversation with Sorbet was the part that actually interested him. He had to have already known Sorbet explained stands to you, but maybe he was more interested in the details?

 

“I asked about Illuso’s stand… and he didn’t tell me, so I asked about his stand…” you said.

 

“Did he tell you?” Gelato said, leaning forward. His expression was unreadable but it was clear your answer was important to him.

 

“No… he doesn’t trust me yet,” you said.

 

“Yet?” he said with a sharp laugh at your presumptuous word choice. You pouted and wanted to quip back at him, but the contemplative look on his face stopped you. Whatever he was looking for from you right now you wanted to give it to him. You wouldn’t let this chance slip away.

 

“I asked if he… agreed with you. About me being here,” you said.

 

“He did, I’m sure?” Gelato said. You nodded. Another thing he already knew. You racked your brain.

 

“At one point I asked if you hate me,” you offered. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but you had to know what he’d say.

 

“And do I?” he asked, apparently just as curious as you were. You frowned.

 

“No?” you said, half relaying Sorbet’s words and half asking if they were right.

 

“Well, he does know me pretty well. I guess I’ll have to take his word for it,” Gelato said, smirking. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

 

But you felt relieved anyway.

 

“Uhhhh, he said you have no tact?” you said, and he just gave a soft chuckle in response. You kept throwing things out, but none of it seemed to be exactly what Gelato was looking for. His eyes were still boring into you, and you wondered what else you even had left. You weren’t going to have to tell him about how you cried after confessing your feelings for La Squadra, were you? That breakdown was all about you, not Sorbet. But it’s not like he hadn’t seen your puffy red eyes anyway when he came downstairs.

 

Dripping his blood all over the kitchen tile.

 

You tapped your fingers together to drive the memory away. “I… uh… I mean, I told him some personal stuff and he… helped me calm down when I started crying.”

 

“What did you tell him?” he asked, almost too harsh. That familiar desperation from the first time he tried asking you had returned to his voice. You squirmed a little and tapped your fingers harder. 

 

“I… ahaha… it’s… really embarrassing,” you muttered. When Gelato said nothing, expectantly staring you down, you sighed. “I said that… well… La Squadra is… I don’t have anyone else. I love all of them so much, and I couldn’t bear to lose them. They’re my... family.”

 

He leaned back against the counter again, and let out a quiet laugh. “Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, that would do it alright,” he said to himself more than to you.

 

You weren’t sure what his reaction meant, or what you should say next, but it seemed like the conversation had reached some sort of turning point. For better or worse, you weren’t sure, but you would push ahead and see where it took you. “I… I mean. I know things aren’t exactly great between you and me right now, but I was hoping that… maybe…”

 

He took a deep breath that made you fall silent and flashed a smile that did not reach his eyes. “They’re my family too,” he said, searching you, as if seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time. “They adore you. They all absolutely love you with the entirety of all their wicked little hearts.” You searched his eyes and found an emotion you couldn't place, but before you could figure it out they had already left you to stare at something a million miles away.

 

“It’s not them you have to worry about. It’s the rest of Passione.” He barked out a laugh. “You picked the worst possible team in the entire gang to latch on to, you know that? You could have at least cozied up to the gambling division or something, for fuck’s sake. La Squadra does all the dirty work, and everyone hates us for it. The Boss is always finding new ways to screw us over, sometimes just for fun. You want to be in the middle of that?”

 

You looked down and wrapped your arms around yourself tight. “Of course not, but…”

 

He turned towards you suddenly, giving off a frantic energy as he did his best to keep his tone even. “You can have a normal life, you know? You don’t have to settle for this. You’re a college student, right? Go to a fucking college party, what the hell are you even doing here!?” It was getting harder for him to hold back, and he started talking faster, louder. “I garuntee there’s normal fucking human beings who don’t kill for a living that will respect a transgender person! Are you really so desperate that this is the company you want to keep? You want the address for a nice gay bar downtown or something? Huh?”

 

You just stared at him, wide eyed and completely taken aback by his lack of composure. You wanted to be upset, but the desperation in his voice made your heart ache. “Gelato…” you whispered, raising a hand in his direction in a gesture of comfort. He just glanced at the hand and let out a strained laugh.

 

“But you do love them, don’t you? You see how fucked up they are, and you want to love them until they’re better. You think you can fix them?” He covered his face with one hand as he let out a pained hyena laugh. “Fuck hahaha! But you already are, aren’t you? You see how happy they are with you here! I want to believe so fucking bad that you have what it takes to live with the consequences of loving these men. I want to believe that somehow it’s possible for you to save them without destroying yourself in the process.” 

 

“Gelato, I-“

 

“But most of all I want to believe there’s still time for you to get out.” He let out a bitter sigh. “I just wish you did it before you sunk your villainous little claws into Sorbet too,” he laughed again, voice shaking.

 

“N-no, I-“ you stuttered. But his eyes met yours again and you couldn’t form any words. It was the softest expression you had ever seen from the man aimed at anyone who wasn’t his boyfriend. Any guilt or shame you had was pushed aside looking into those sad gentle eyes, and the emotional whiplash had your whole body drenched in a cloying warmth.

 

“It’s not like I’m not scared of what could happen to me,” you said. “I think about it all the time. It terrifies me.”

 

“Then leave,” Gelato pleaded with a laugh that sounded completely resigned.

 

You returned his sad smile. “I think you’re right about me. But I’ve already committed to this. When… when I told Sorbet how I really felt… I knew that was my last chance to turn back. I can’t give up on them,” you said, Gelato responding with a disappointed click of his tongue. “So I guess I’m not going to give up on you either.”

 

“God, you’re an idiot,” Gelato laughed, his iconic hyena bellow mixed with something a bit more tender. “So, I’m next on your hit list, then?” he said, pushing himself off the counter and straightening himself up. The sadness vanished, and he smirked at you. “I have to warn you, I’m not soft like the others. It takes more than a cute face to melt this cold exterior.” He gestured to himself with a dramatic wave of his hand.

 

You don’t know where it came from, but suddenly you felt bolder. “But my face is cute?” you said with a smirk.

 

Gelato rolled his eyes and turned around to leave the kitchen, his original mission to find food now officially abandoned. He called back over his shoulder, “Unfortunately.”

 

Your heart fluttered a little.

Notes:

Sorry for not updating for a couple days, even though I'm pretty sure no one minds too much. I went on a small trip to my girlfriend's parents house so I've been a bit busy. Also, this chapter was tough to write, but I think this turned out better than some of my initial plans.

This should mark a noticeable shift in Gelato's behavior towards the reader so I can finally explore new aspects of the relationship. Hopefully things should pick up a little now! I've got some fun ideas for where to go with this. :)

Chapter 11: Temba, His Ams Wide

Summary:

You forgot something at the base, and come by early to pick it up

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Today you had come over to the base on Ghiaccio’s invitation. This definitely worked in your favor since you had some drawing assignments for your art course and Ghiaccio was unquestionably your muse. His well defined features and wild hairstyle could keep you drawing for hours, and you could feel yourself improving every time you had an art session with him. It was easy for him, since you usually just let him do whatever he was already doing while you sketched away. When he had your undivided attention like that he’d usually take the opportunity to vent about the latest object of his ire.

 

You were both hanging out in Ghiaccio’s room with him ranting away and you nodding along as you tried to capture the finer details of some of his more interesting expressions. Other than Risotto, Ghiaccio was the only one with a room to himself, so you had claimed the room’s extra desk as your own and stored your textbooks and snacks within. Ghiaccio had a spare bed in his room which you were currently sitting cross-legged on. You knew that no one was willing to talk about the bed’s previous owner, so you respected what you assumed was their grief and never asked. Formaggio had assured you the first time you started regularly sitting on the bed that not only had the previous sheets been completely burned, but it was also a completely new mattress, so you had “nothing to worry about.” This mysterious assurance was yet another reason you never asked.

 

Today Ghiaccio was particularly vexed about what English speakers called the ananas. He was on his bed, lying on his side, head propped up with one hand while the other gesticulated violently with each word he spoke. “They call it Pine. Apple. Fucking pineapple . First off, the damn thing looks absolutely nothing like an apple, so let’s get that shit out of the way. Ananas is good enough for every other language on the fucking planet. Seriously, it’s just English. They’ve done it again!”

 

“Would it make you feel better if you knew the etymology?” you asked, tapping your pencil to your chin with a small smile.

 

 He glared at you. You already knew his answer because it was the same answer he gave you every time you asked him that question. “No, I don’t want the etymology.”

 

You laughed and went back to your drawing. “You know I always have to ask.”

 

“I mean, you study this shit, you can see how aggravating it is, right?” Ghiaccio said with a sneer.

 

“You know, you’re the only linguistic prescriptivist I can tolerate,” you replied, adding some swirly swoops of hair to your Ghiaccio drawing.

 

“I never know what you mean when you say that, but once I find out it’s over for you,” he said, his empty threat making you smile even more.

 

You hummed, getting lost in your sketch’s details. “Pesci’s hair kind of makes him look like a pineapple,” you mused.

 

“Don’t use that word,” Ghiaccio groaned in response. He had grown a little more tolerant of you trying to talk about linguistics with him, even though he bemoaned how an expert in language studies could ever tolerate the things that always managed to infuriate him to no end. You could get away with a little bit of teasing, but you were always quick to back off. You’d let him have his ananas and eat it too.

 

You finished up your current drawing, but the lighting in Ghiaccio’s room left a lot to be desired. You asked him if he would mind moving to the common area so you could really do some light and shadow studies. He grumbled about having to get up, but you knew he enjoyed being your model too much to decline.

 

When you got downstairs you noticed that Sorbet was at the base without Gelato for once. Gelato was out on a mission, and Sorbet was utilizing the quiet time to get some reading done. Ghiaccio was willing to accommodate him, begrudgingly, and cut his rant on fruit naming conventions short in favor of getting some of his own work done on his laptop. It looked like a bunch of boring numbers and spreadsheets. You were much more interested in the stack of books that Sorbet had brought downstairs with him to peruse. He was currently reading some classic literature that looked very dense and scholarly.

 

Handsome and smart? What a deadly combination. (You ignored the cheap-looking books in the stack about get-rich-quick schemes since they did not fit your personal narrative of the man.)

 

And he was wearing reading glasses! You had no idea he wore those. They framed his handsome face so nicely… and his dark brown eyes looked so focused and engaged in his book, in stark contrast with his usual apathetic expression. At some point you had finished your drawing of Ghiaccio and had begun idly sketching Sorbet’s face instead. You wanted to capture every angle of his strong jaw and every shadow from his high cheekbones. And his beautiful eyes, which were reading his book with such concentration, and now they were looking right at you, and…

 

Wait, oh shit. Sorbet smirked at you and gave a silent chuckle. That familiar heat washed over your face as you tried to make it look like you were still drawing Ghiaccio instead. You pretended to finish up some details on your current drawing and then flipped over the page of your sketchbook to a fresh new one to hide your lovingly rendered Sorbet portrait away from any prying eyes.

 

The three of you sat in comfortable silence in the living room for a while as the sky outside turned orange. Ghiaccio grumbled every so often under his breath about finances, Sorbet had read a decent amount of his novel (before switching to Advanced Gun Maintenance for Dummies), and you had filled up a good handful of pages with Ghiaccios and a few more sneaky Sorbets.

 

The sound of keys jingling had everyone turn in the direction of the front door in time to see it open, Prosciutto and Pesci entering the house, a bag of groceries in each of their arms. Prosciutto smiled when he saw you. “Staying for dinner?” he asked.

 

You jumped up, and set your sketchbook down on the coffee table with the rest of the books. “I can!” you replied, excited at the invitation and what was most certainly a request to help out in the kitchen. You loved helping Prosciutto prepare meals.

 

It wasn’t too long until the base was filled with the savory sweet smell of warm food emanating from the kitchen. A lot of kitchen tasks overwhelmed you, but Prosciutto always delegated work to you he knew you could handle. You liked the stimulation of chopping vegetables with its repetitive motion and satisfying crunch, and that was your favorite part. The two of you were working on a linguine with a fresh lemon mascarpone sauce, and while you two often made your own sauces together, Prosciutto had wanted to make the pasta from scratch tonight as well. You studied Prosciutto’s technique, and while your noodles came out of the pasta maker a tad uneven you were still proud of yourself.

 

Ghiaccio and Pesci made their way over to the seldom used dining table in a room attached to the kitchen, since the small kitchen table didn’t have the room to accommodate everyone and all the food you and Prosciutto made. Risotto had made a rare appearance, usually too bogged down with paperwork to join his team during meals. Sorbet had taken his books back upstairs, saying he and Gelato already had dinner plans for a bit later that evening. You were a bit disappointed that he wasn’t going to eat the food you helped make, but you couldn’t help feeling happy at the idea of him going on a date with Gelato. The two of them were so cute together.

 

The five of you ate dinner, and Pesci kept piling on the compliments, even if you insisted Prosciutto did most of the work. Ghiaccio complained about how you both used too much lemon, but his plate was clean by the end of the meal so you didn’t take it to heart. The sight of Risotto’s warm smile from across the table when you were all finished had you absolutely elated.

 

It had gotten pretty late, and you had class tomorrow. It wasn’t anything too early in the morning, but you were terrible at waking up regardless of the time of day you had to do it. With a yawn you said your goodbyes.




 

 

Ghiaccio hadn’t answered his phone, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You scrolled down your recent calls list and clicked on the next name you saw. The ringing kept going, and just when you thought that this call would be a bust too, you heard Illuso’s voice on the other side.

 

“Illuso! Hey! Uh… are you at the base right now? I already called Pesci, but he’s out, and Ghiaccio didn’t pick up,” you said, voice a little stressed, which Illuso was able to pick up on immediately.

 

“Yes, I’m at the base. Is everything okay?” Illuso replied, sounding concerned.

 

“Oh, cool, good! Is it okay if I come by? I know I’m usually never over there this early, but I really need to stop by before class. I left some school work there,” you said, hoping there weren’t any Surprise Mafia Inspections going on over there right now. To your relief he said that it was no problem, and you thanked him profusely before heading over.

 

Your art course was going over sketchbook assignments today and you could not afford to show up without it. You knew it had to be at the base, since it wasn’t in your bag when you got home and you had already searched your entire car. It had to either be in the living room or Ghiaccio’s room, and if the latter was the case you knew he wouldn’t mind if you got your sketchbook out of there.

 

Illuso opened the door for you, and you thanked him again while you made a beeline for the common area. You checked the coffee table, behind both couches, and when nothing showed up you checked the kitchen too. You ran up the stairs and knocked on Ghiaccio’s door, and when you didn’t hear an answer you opened it. It wasn’t on the desk or the spare bed or even under it. You started feeling a bit panicked at the idea you may have lost it.

 

You walked back downstairs, and Illuso was leaning against the hallway wall waiting for you. “Any luck?” he asked.

 

You shook your head sadly. “No… it has to be here though.” You wandered back into the living room and checked the couches and tables again, when you remembered something.

 

“Oh… shit… I think I put it on the table with Sorbet’s books. Maybe he took it with him by accident?” Illuso just gave a shrug since he hadn’t been at the base yesterday. The idea of Sorbet sifting through the pictures you drew of him made your panic worse. “Ahhh, fuck! Illuso, is he here now?”

 

“I haven’t seen him, but then again I haven’t been here very long,” Illuso said, quite unhelpfully. You were fidgeting and shifting your weight back and forth, staring back up the staircase. You needed your sketchbook, so you steeled yourself and headed back upstairs.

 

You walked past all the bedroom doors to the end of the hallway, and stood nervously in front of the door to Sorbet and Gelato’s room. You looked down at the gap between the wood and the floor and noticed the light was off in the room, and you felt your stomach drop. There was no way you were going in there if they weren’t home. It was still pretty early in the morning, and you knew that Sorbet and Gelato had stayed out late on their date last night. It was possible they were still asleep, in which case you would also feel terrible about waking them up.

 

You thought you might have heard a noise from behind the door, although you weren’t entirely sure. You leaned your ear in a little closer to see if you could hear it again. There was definitely the quiet rumble of voices coming from the bedroom. You felt relieved, thinking maybe they had just woken up. You were about to knock on the door when it swung open, causing you to jump back and let out a yelp.

 

You yelped a second time when you realized Gelato was at the door wearing nothing but a tank top and boxer shorts. Without his bulky khakis on you were surprised by just how soft he looked. You would have ever imagined it with his harsh angles and spindly form, but his torso was a tad pudgy. Without his high collar the dull reminder of his neck wound was on full display, but you saw the hints of many other scars covering the rest of him.

 

You thought you saw additional movement coming from the dark behind him, indicating that Sorbet was also home. You couldn’t help gawking at Gelato, seeing way more of the man than you were used to. You were mortified, and moved your gaze upwards to his face. He didn’t look like someone who had just woken up, but rather someone who was interrupted at a very bad time.  

 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, eyeing you with suspicion.

 

“Aaahh…?” you said incoherently.

 

Gelato’s expression softened slightly, but he still looked upset. “Why do you have your ear to our door?”

 

“I’m sorry! I was about to knock, I just… wanted to see if you were in there first!” You knew it was an incriminating position to be found in, but you were telling him the truth.

 

“What did you hear ?” Sorbet’s deep voice echoed from within the room. You shivered at how serious he sounded.

 

“...Nothing?” you said. Whatever had both of them on edge probably had to do with whatever you had interrupted. You became aware of Gelato’s scantily clad body again, and your face was on fire. “Oh fuck, were you two in the middle of…?” You couldn’t dare finish that question.

 

Gelato’s signature laugh echoed through the hallway as his shoulders finally relaxed. “Fuck, you’re too funny, you know that?”

 

You saw the silhouette of Sorbet emerge from the darkness. “No,” he said to answer your question. While you were glad you hadn’t happened upon the both of them while they were getting a little bit frisky, you didn’t get much relief from the now visible sight of Sorbet without his shirt on. Both men had long thin limbs and lean frames, but Sorbet was hiding a toned body with some very nice looking biceps. He was a lot hairier than Gelato, and all you could think about while you ogled him was how you wanted to run your fingers through the thick forest on his chest. Well that train of thought could end right there, thank you very much!

 

“You really didn’t hear anything, though?” Gelato asked, and even with your gaze trained on the floor you could feel intense eyes on you. You shook your head. “Good,” Gelato said with a sigh. You had no idea what sort of a conversation you had stopped between the two, but you were glad you didn’t hear anything. As curious as you were, you could tell they were really disturbed by the idea of you listening in.

 

“Have a little self awareness, alright? Keep your ears away from this door,” Gelato continued, emphasizing his point by slapping the bedroom door twice. “Just knock.”

 

“I was worried about waking you up,” you said quietly.

 

“You’re too sweet, darling,” Gelato said with an amused grin. Your breath hitched and you curled your toes at the affectionate name. “So, what can we do for you this morning?” He yawned and stretched his arms, his tank top lifting in the process, showing off his tummy. Okay, there was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose.

 

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Sorbet asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Ooohhh, are you playing hooky just to come see us?” Gelato asked, hardly able to contain the devilish look on his face.

 

“I left a book I need for class here,” you said. “I think it might have gotten mixed up with Sorbet’s stuff…” If it turned out you had been wrong about that you would probably just drop dead at this point.

 

Gelato looked to Sorbet, clearly counting on the other to answer you. Sorbet made a low humming noise, and turned to walk back into the darkness of the bedroom. You heard the sound of objects shuffling around, and you practically cried out in relief when Sorbet emerged with your sketchbook in hand.

 

“This must be it,” he said, offering it to you. “Sorry about that.”

 

You finally met his gaze and looked Sorbet in the eyes (and let your eyes drift no lower). You grabbed the book and smiled. “Oh, thank you so much! I was so worried I lost it!” You clutched it to your chest, and tapped your fingers against the cover before asking, “You didn’t look in it, right?”

 

“I didn’t even know I had it until right now,” Sorbet replied. You breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Why, what’s in it?” Gelato asked with a curious twinkle in his eye.

 

“Just portraits and figure drawings for a class I’m taking,” you said, shrugging. “I’m just a bit self conscious is all.”

 

“Ooo, you draw? Need another model for that?” Gelato asked, tilting his head into an open palm.

 

“I think there’s drawings of me in there somewhere,” Sorbet said, tone absolutely flirtatious. He totally saw right through you yesterday. You immediately brought the book up to cover your face, a silent scream in your throat.

 

“I have class soon, bye!” you called out as you ran down the hall and then down the stairs, a pair of snickers behind you.

 

“Did you find-“ Illuso began as you ran right past him to the door.

 

“Yep! Thank you, thank you! See you later!” you called back at him, slamming the door behind you.

Notes:

I’m sorry that while trying to make the Reader as accessible as possible I also also made them definitively a linguistics major. If this breaks immersion for everyone I am truly sorry. But I gotta do what my heart tells me.

Chapter 12: Ubaya of Crossroads

Summary:

You and Sorbet spend time together outside the base.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You woke up this morning to the sound of your phone ringing. When you groggily picked it up to check the name you noticed that the number was not in your contacts. It was from the same area code as you, however, so you groaned and answered it. Who knew, it could be important.

 

“...’ello?” you asked, with a yawn.

 

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” a deep voice asked on the other side. There was unmistakable amusement coming from it since it was already well into the afternoon.

 

“Sorbet?” you asked, trying your best to sound like he hadn’t just interrupted your twelve hour hibernation.

 

He gave a small hum in response. “I asked Illuso for your number. I hope that’s okay?” You assured him it was fine. “Good. Are you busy today?”

 

Your heart beat faster. “Busy? I…”  you began. Yesterday you had thought of calling Pesci, since you had the day off from classes, and asking if you could come over to the base or maybe go out and see a movie with him, but you hadn’t committed to anything yet. “No?”

 

“Can I meet with you? Feel free to decline,” he said simply.

 

You clutched the phone tighter. “Huh? Why?”

 

“I’d prefer to talk about it in person. We can talk next time I see you at the base, so again: feel free to decline,” he said. Your stomach was twisting itself in knots. What did he want to talk about? He didn’t seem upset or anything, and although the thought of meeting with Sorbet had you flustered, you just had to accept.

 

“Yeah!” you said, a little too eagerly. “Uh, where did you have in mind?”

 

“I’ll text you the address. How does an hour from now sound?” You told him it sounded great and you said you’d see him soon. After you hung up, you flopped back down onto the bed, face in your pillow. When your phone vibrated a few moments later, you glanced at the new message. The place Sorbet wanted to meet was a small cafe on the outskirts of town. Nothing he said indicated his intentions were anything but platonic, but you still blushed.

 

You put on a nice outfit, but not too nice, and fixated over your hair and face in the mirror, putting in considerable effort to look as casual as possible. You opted to take the bus instead of driving, since the weather was nice and some walking might do you some good, considering that despite half a day’s worth of sleep you were still tired. You left soon after planning your route, not wanting to be late.

 

The bus ride over had been pleasant, even though you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach the entire time. You had double checked the stop you’d get off at and the directions to the cafe way more times than you needed to, but you needed something to occupy your brain to drive away your nerves.

 

When you finally approached the cafe you saw Sorbet sitting by himself outside with a glass of water and a pair of menus already on the table. Even though he didn’t mention Gelato on the phone, you were half expecting him to be here too. Sorbet smiled warmly at you when he noticed you, and gestured to the seat across from him.

 

“Gelato isn’t here?” you asked. Sorbet made a noise in affirmation. You hesitated for a second before asking, “But, he knows we’re here?”

 

Sorbet took a sip of his water and chuckled. “There’s no secrets between the two of us,” he said with a soft smile. Well, except for your conversation with Sorbet from that one night which Gelato had been so desperate to know about. You said nothing though, and sat down across from him, picking up your menu. “You didn’t drive out here?” he asked.

 

“No, I took the bus,” you said. He nodded.

 

“I’m assuming you haven’t eaten yet then?” he asked, his smile now teasing. He was right, since you had only woken up an hour ago. “Well, don’t be afraid to order whatever you want. I’ll cover it.”

 

“Oh! I brought my own money!” you assured him.

 

“Consider it my treat for dragging you out here on your day off,” Sorbet said simply. You’d drop it for now, but you still fully intended to pay for your own order.

 

After deciding on some light food and a drink and telling your server, you handed your menu off to her and leaned back in your chair. When she vanished back inside the cafe you looked at Sorbet. “So. What’s up?” you asked.

 

“I want to teach you how to use a gun,” he said flatly, no preamble. He just dropped that at your feet and you stared at him blankly.

 

“Excuse me?” you asked, not processing what he said. He went to repeat himself but you interrupted him when your brain finally caught up. “A gun?”

 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “A gun.” This was not at all what you were expecting from your meeting with Sorbet. You had come up with a thousand things he might want to talk to you about on the way over, but that had not been one of them.

 

“Why do you want to teach me how to use a gun?” you asked, brows furrowed.

 

Sorbet looked off to the side, face propped up on his fist. “It’s for my own peace of mind. I’ve heard about the night the Capo found you in that alleyway. It doesn’t sit right with me, you out there without a stand. I’d teach you unarmed self defense too.”

 

You felt yourself shiver at a sudden feeling of cold, despite the sunny sky. “I don’t know if… I could use a gun…” you muttered, your hands tapping away on the table.

 

“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” he said, finally looking back at you, and he reached a hand out to place on top of yours, careful to not cover your fingers so you could continue to tap. You stopped tapping anyway though, and now you were the one looking away. “But it would mean a lot if you humored me.”

 

You thought about it. Sorbet was right that you didn’t have the means to defend yourself if something ever happened to you again. Without Risotto stepping in, you wouldn’t have been able to put up much of a fight on your own that night, and that was reason enough to consider the offer. But the idea of firing a gun at someone made you sick. If there was ever a circumstance where you had to use one, you supposed at least knowing how to work it would benefit you, but you loathed the possibility.

 

“I think… it’s a good idea. If you taught me self defense, I’d appreciate that. But…” you trailed off. You scratched your head with your free hand. “I… I guess I could at least try with the gun?”

 

He squeezed your hand, his eyes searching your expression. “Are you absolutely sure?”

 

“If… I can’t handle it… we’d stop?” you asked.

 

“Of course,” he assured you, giving you the most beautiful smile in the world. “We’d stop immediately.”

 

That smile was all it took to convince you.






Sorbet had said that although he had come prepared you didn’t have to start today if you weren’t ready. You were incredibly anxious, of course, but also a little bit excited. You didn’t want to give yourself the chance to back out by putting it off. With summer looming on the horizon there was still plenty of light left for the rest of the afternoon. After you finished at the cafe Sorbet had walked you to his car, which was very expensive looking and polished to a beautiful shine. Formaggio had a fancy car too, but he didn’t wash it often or clean up the trash littered in its interior until it became too much to ignore. Sorbet’s car was immaculate, as if he had driven it right out of the dealership earlier that same day. You had guessed at the man’s spending habits whenever you saw him with a shiny new watch or sharing a nice vintage wine with Gelato, but this car was really something else.

 

He drove out of town and you watched the buildings get less dense the further out you went, until you were driving by plenty of beautiful green vineyards. You watched the landscape fly by as some classical music and light static from the car radio filled the silence. Eventually the car slowed down, encroaching on a small hill with a rusty half-destroyed shed sitting at the base of it. Sorbet parked off the road nearby, and powered down the engine.

 

“This is the place I had in mind,” Sorbet said, opening the door and stepping outside. You unbuckled your seatbelt and followed him around to the back of the car. He popped open the trunk which had an opaque black garbage bag in it. He opened it up, and you peered over his shoulder to see that it was filled with glass bottles. Satisfied that nothing looked broken, he slung the bag over his shoulder.

 

It was obvious that the shed had been long forgotten, panels of it peeling off, or otherwise already on the ground. There was a dilapidated fence about fifteen feet from the shed, and the wooden planks were cut thick enough to easily support any bottles placed across the top of it. Sorbet set the bag of bottles at the fence’s base, and then untucked his shirt, revealing a hidden gun at his side in a concealed carry holster. You raised your hand to your lips to stifle a gasp. He had to have a gun on him somewhere, since he didn’t grab one from the car, but you were still surprised.

 

“Do you always have one on you like that?” you asked, a bit apprehensive.

 

He chuckled. “I’ve got one here, too,” he said, leaning over and patting above his ankle lightly. “I’ll leave it to your imagination where the third one is.” You weren’t sure if that was a joke or not.

 

He walked back over and stopped in front of you. He held the gun up, careful not to point it anywhere in your direction, and rotated it a bit, slowly, letting you get a good look at it. This was the closest you had ever been to a real life firearm.

 

“It’s not loaded,” Sorbet said, and you felt a little bit better. “But rule number one is to treat every gun like it is loaded. This is not a toy.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice,” you said with a strained laugh.

 

“It’s going to be a little while before I even let you try shooting it. We’ll go really slow.” You nodded, and smiled at the soft assurance. Sorbet started off going over basic gun safety, showing you how to check if a gun was loaded or not, showing you how he loaded it but making sure to unload it again afterward, and telling you to never try to catch it if you dropped it, lest you get yourself shot. He explained how to engage the safety, but said to always treat it as if it was dangerous regardless of whether it was on or off.

 

“Never put your finger on the trigger unless you are ready to shoot,” Sorbet said, “and never point your gun at anything you don’t want to kill.” You shuddered, those words making what you were doing almost too real for you. You hoped you weren’t regretting this already.

 

After making sure you had understood everything up until that point, he moved on. He went over the bag to fish out a bottle, and placed it right at the center on the fence. He walked back over to you and guided you further back, a good distance away. He had you stand to the side of him while he raised his unloaded gun and aimed it at the bottle.

 

“I want you to look at the way I’m holding it,” Sorbet said. “Look where my fingers are when they’re not on the trigger. Do you see the distance between my feet? Do you see how my knees are bent like this? You don’t want to be too tense when you’re shooting it.” He pointed out a few more things about his stance, and you studied him closely.

 

Eventually he relaxed and lowered the gun. He suavely flipped it in his hands and held it by the barrel, offering the grip to you. “Never ever do that, by the way,” he said with regards to the little trick.

 

You reached for it and when he let go it felt so heavy in your hands. Just holding the thing, even knowing it wasn’t loaded, was almost too much for you. You suppressed a small whimper, and just stared at it, unblinking. Sorbet put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. It broke you out of your trance, and you went to stand where he was moments ago. You tried your best to mimic Sorbet, and raised the gun up, pointing it in the general direction of the bottle.

 

Sorbet let out a thoughtful “hm” and walked next to you, kicking your foot lightly with the tip of his shoe to encourage you to move your leg a little farther in. You adjusted yourself, and peered to the side to try to gauge how he felt. “Eyes forward,” he said, and you quickly looked back. He walked around you, surveying your form. He stepped behind you and leaned forward a bit, raising his arms to hover over you. “May I?” he asked. You could feel yourself practically sweating, but you nodded your permission.

 

He reached over and placed his hands near yours, his tall body towering over you. He was so close and so warm and you felt yourself shaking a little. “Relax,” he whispered near your ear, so close to you, making you relax even less. You barely managed to stop your body from trembling. He had you raise the gun up a bit, and he pointed out the sights on top of the gun to you. “Make sure they’re lined up with each other, and with what you’re aiming at.” He waited for you to adjust your aim. “Everything lined up?”

 

“Yeah,” you breathed softly.

 

“Good,” he said, and just as soon as it started it was over, him moving completely off of you and taking a step back. As overwhelming as him being that close to you had been you found yourself missing his presence immediately. He studied you a little more before telling you to stop. Your arms dropped down and you let out a breath you had been holding in. He offered his hand and you gave him back the gun, glad to be rid of it for now.

 

“Not bad,” he said, and you couldn’t help but feel overjoyed by the praise. “I gave you a lot all at once. Why don’t you take a minute?” You thanked him and wandered over to the shade casted by the small shed, and sat down. Sorbet double checked his gun, more to set a good example of gun safety for you than anything, then holstered it again. Soon he was sitting down next to you. “Doing alright so far?”

 

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your knees. “It’s kind of scary.”

 

“It should be scary. It’s a very dangerous weapon that I hope you’ll never need to use,” Sorbet replied, leaning back against the shed.

 

“Okay, then I guess I’m doing fine,” you said with a small laugh. You glanced over at him. “Is it scary for you too?”

 

He tilted his head to meet your eyes. “No. Not anymore.”

 

“Was it at first?” you asked.

 

He stared at you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t learn how to use a gun first before I had to use one.” He frowned. “The first time I shot one, I had no idea what I was doing. I was absolutely terrified.” Part of you wanted to ask more about that first time, but you were afraid to hear it. “I appreciate you coming out here for me,” he said, earnestly.

 

You chuckled, and gave a dismissive wave of your hand. “Well, it just makes sense. It’s not like I have a stand like the rest of you.”

 

You turned to look up at the late afternoon sky. There were very few clouds, and it was warm out with a gentle breeze. A silent moment passed, and when you turned to look back at him he was staring intently at you, looking like he wanted to say something.

 

“What is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Do you want to hear something I’ve never told the others?” Sorbet asked, clearly invoking the night you had asked him the same.

 

“What?” you asked.

 

“Promise you’ll keep quiet,” he said firmly.

 

You turned a bit to give him your full attention. “Of course, yeah,” you said, wanting to sound as supportive as you could.

 

“I don’t have a stand,” Sorbet said.

Notes:

👀 👀 👀

Chapter 13: Temba, At Rest

Summary:

Sorbet opens up a little about his past.

Notes:

Warning for this chapter: reader has a panic attack and goes nonverbal.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“What?” you asked, utterly baffled.

 

“I don’t have a stand,” Sorbet repeated. “Only the Capo and Gelato know. And now you.”

 

“But… huh!? How could you even keep that secret?” you said incredulously.

 

He snorted. “It’s not easy, as nosy as those guys are. Illuso especially. But the Capo made it pretty clear early on that it’s none of their business,” Sorbet said. You supposed that having Risotto on your side would definitely help matters. “Luckily the majority of their stands have pretty visible effects, so I’m not totally lost. I just can’t see the dumb buff ghosts standing next to them.”

 

“I mean… I guess,” you muttered, still astounded.

 

“It’s actually pretty funny. If they pull out their stands I don’t even blink. They think I’m one tough son of a bitch,” he said with a smug chuckle. “They’re right, of course.”

 

“But how do you keep up without one?”

 

He smiled. “I take an old fashioned approach to assassination, real classic stuff. I’m a sniper. Not too shabby, either. Snipers work in pairs, you know. Sometimes Gelato doesn’t even need to use his stand and he’ll just act as my spotter.” You were pretty impressed, even if you didn’t think it was the best thing to be proud of. You frowned. “Too much information?” he asked, his smile turning apologetic.

 

You shrugged, although you couldn’t hide the discomfort plain on your face. “It’s fine,” you said.

 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, his smile dropping.

 

You just shrugged again. You were quiet for a moment but then brought your fingers to your chin in thought. “I thought they gave you a stand when you joined Passione, though?”

 

“Not if you actually pass the initiation test,” Sorbet responded with a scoff. He explained to you vaguely about the lighter that one of the gang’s capos used to haze initiates. “Gelato warned me ahead of time about what the induction process involved.”

 

You wanted to ask why he hadn’t purposefully put the lighter out to get himself a stand, but knowing that death was always a possibility during the test you didn’t blame him. Still, if stands were based on the strength of one’s will, you had no doubts about Sorbet being able to manifest one. You decided to refrain from asking for now, but something else had caught your attention.

 

“You knew Gelato before you joined Passione?” you asked.

 

He hummed one of his low deep hums, an expression of fondness on his face. “I only joined because of him.” He raked his fingers through his slicked back hair, and he suddenly looked sheepish. You had never seen shyness from the man. “He saved me.”

 

He was clearly uncomfortable, so your mind filled in the blanks with your own theories. There was something tragically romantic about it. Seeing him so vulnerable with you reminded you that you still had yet to thank the man properly like you meant to for what was weeks now. After an appropriate silence you said, “Sorbet, I wanted to thank you for calming me down that night in the kitchen when I started crying. It really meant a lot.”

 

Sorbet’s composure returned, and he gave you a warm smile. “Of course,” he assured you.

 

Something else was still on your mind. “Can I… um… ask you why you didn’t tell Gelato what I said to you?”

 

His smile fell again. He looked away and shrugged. “I wanted to respect your privacy. You said that to me in confidence.” You supposed that was true enough, but something still felt off.

 

You hesitated before asking what you had always wondered about. “Why was your hand shaking when you put it on me?”

 

He let out an irritated click of his tongue and ran his fingers through his hair again. “Of course it was,” he said, to himself, as if he hadn’t realized it until now. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. “What you said to me that night… it was familiar.”

 

“Familiar?” you probed, an eyebrow raised.

 

“It reminded me of myself,” Sorbet said, a flash of melancholy behind his eyes. He paused for a second, thoughtfully. “Did you know I have a college degree?”

 

The non sequitur caught you off guard. “Huh? Really?”

 

He chuckled. “Yeah, I went to college and got my Bachelors in Business, just like my parents wanted. Dated a few girls out of obligation, but never anything serious. Graduated and transitioned seamlessly into a nine to five office job.” You couldn’t picture the imposing figure of the man in front of you hunched over in a cubicle. You could see the mask he wore cracking right in front of you, all of the distant and aloof aura he had rapidly evaporating. “I was always so angry and empty, and I never knew why. I started doing all sorts of reckless stuff, trying to feel anything. Started getting involved in some dangerous shit with some dangerous people. They wouldn’t let me back out when it became too much for me to handle.”

 

“So Gelato saved you?” you quoted him from earlier.

 

“Yeah. Gelato saved me,” he said, his expression sad but loving. “I know that Gelato doesn’t want to see another life ruined by Passione. He regrets bringing me into this gang every day. But I had to follow him, whatever that meant for me. It’s ironic, with how likely dying is, that for once I actually feel alive when I’m with him. It beats thinking I’m straight and pretending to work on fiance reports for eight hours every day.”

 

You two sat in a heavy silence for quite a while, and you replayed everything he said in your mind over and over, committing every detail to memory. You looked up at the sky which had finally started to bear the tiniest hints of orange as the sun descended ever lower towards the horizon. Everything he had said was so sweet, so chilling, so vulnerable. When you finally looked back to him he gave yet another apologetic smile. “Well, was that too much information?”

 

“No, no,” you assured him. “Thank you… for trusting me with all this.”

 

He laughed. “I always wondered what was so special about you, that everyone got so soft and sappy. But liking you really does come too easy.” You blushed, holding your knees tighter.

 

Yet another wall rendered useless.

 

After another pregnant silence, his soft expression turned mischievous. “So. You think I’m cute?” he asked, with a smirk.

 

Your blush intensified as you spluttered out a choked string of incoherent words. “G-Gelato said he wasn’t going to tell you!”

 

He just snorted at that. “So it’s true?” You now saw the trap he had carefully laid for you, and you tried to backpedal. “Don’t worry, Gelato didn’t tell me anything. I already knew.” Gelato had said as much. It only made it more embarrassing.

 

“Aaaaghh…!” You buried your head in your arms and groaned.

 

He hummed, very entertained by your reaction. “Gelato’s pretty cute too, isn’t he? You should take him up on his offer to model for your drawings.”

 

“Oh my god, shut up!” came your muffled whine.

 

 




You had spent enough time “burning daylight” as Sorbet had put it, and it was back to business. The air between the two of you was still very heavy, your dread returning when you thought about holding the gun again, but there was something softer about the atmosphere now. He let you fiddle with the gun a bit yourself, under his supervision. You loaded and unloaded it, switched the safety off and on, and asked questions about what various parts of the gun were for. Sorbet spent a long time just letting you do nothing but examine it, waiting until you had relaxed a bit before you moved on.

 

To lighten the mood further Sorbet stood a good distance away and did some more tricks for you, flipping and spinning the gun left and right with surprising deftness. “Again, don’t you ever do this shit,” he kept saying the whole time.

 

You finally got back to practicing your stance and aiming down the sights, feeling a bit more comfortable than the first time. Your form was coming along nicely, although sometimes you’d get a little sloppy on purpose if it meant he’d lean over and reposition your arm with his. If he noticed this, he didn’t say anything.

 

After a while of that, Sorbet asked if you were ready to move on. “I’ll shoot it first, and we’ll see how you feel from there.” You had grown complacent in the current routine thus far, and the idea of going further had you worried. But you agreed, wanting to please him. “A warning,” he said, positioning you to stand a little ways back from where he’d be shooting, “It’s louder than you think.” You confirmed your understanding and he nodded, then he loaded up the gun before walking forward. The bottle that you had been aiming at this whole time sat ready on the fence. He got into position, raising the gun confidently and pointing it at the target.

 

You thought you had prepared yourself well enough, especially since he had warned you ahead of time, but you weren’t ready for just how deafening the gunshot was. You felt your whole body go stiff, the only movement you could manage was bringing your hands up to clutch at your ears. Sorbet turned around, and looked absolutely terrified at the pained expression you were making as you held back a cry that got stuck in your throat. He put the safety on and holstered it immediately, running up to you.

 

He called your name, but you couldn’t move. In the back of your mind you felt ashamed of your childish reaction, but your thoughts were completely empty. You had gone entirely nonverbal. Every sound and color around you was overstimulating to the point of misery. That dreadful, horrible noise was too much for your autistic brain to handle.

 

You eventually made out some of Sorbet’s words, realizing he was asking if he could touch you. It took a bit before you were able to manage a small nod, hoping he noticed it. His arms were wrapped around you instantly, and he was petting your head in long soothing strokes. He kept saying sorry, over and over, and you wanted to let him know that he did nothing wrong, but you had no way to tell him. You just clutched at the front of his shirt, your body filled with the tingly gross feeling of someone about to cry, but no tears formed. You just buried your cheek in his button-up, eyes wide open and unfocused.

 

The smell of his cologne helped ground you, and you finally shut your eyes as you steadied your breathing. He was so warm, so solid. You let yourself focus on him and the deep rumbling of his chest as he continued to talk you down. His large hand petting you was the exact stimulation you needed to shut everything else out. He held you for what felt like forever.

 

“We don’t have to do this again,” he assured you. “I’m not disappointed. I did this for me. You weren’t ready. I’m sorry.” Over and over he repeated things like this in his soothing voice.

 

“So loud,” you finally managed to choke out. He unwrapped his arms from you and crouched down, now eye level with you, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “It was so loud,” you said again, still the only words you had.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Sorbet said yet again.

 

You shook your head and forced a small smile. You hated how he was blaming himself. It really wasn’t his fault that you shut down like that. He had done everything he could to make this training session as comfortable as possible for you, and checked in with you every step of it. It was your brain, not him. The gun practice was clearly over, and to wind you down further Sorbet walked you up to the top of the hill and sat down with you to watch the evening sky as the sun set. He sat in silence, waiting for you to talk whenever you were ready to.

 

“I don’t want to use a gun again,” you finally said.

 

“Of course,” he assured you, assuming that would be the case. “We won’t do this again.”

 

“I still think… I’d like for you to teach me self defense,” you added.

 

He narrowed his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Are you sure?” he asked, clearly still distressed about your episode.

 

“Hmmm… maybe not for a little bit. I think this took too much out of me,” you replied, followed with an exhausted sigh. “But at some point. I’d like that.”

 

Sorbet wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in close to lean on him. You couldn’t help but smile. You spent the rest of your time in comfortable silence as you let yourself calm down, not speaking again until he dropped you back off at your small apartment later that night and you both said your goodbyes.

Notes:

One time I was unwillingly taken to a shooting range with my family and I was very uncomfortable the entire time. I didn't want to shoot any guns, but I thought I would at least be able to handle watching my brother. Even with the ear protection on it was so unbelievably loud and my autistic self had a panic attack that no one was sympathetic to. So that's why this whole gun part of the fic exists.

Chapter 14: Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra

Summary:

You take Gelato up on his offer.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Stop moving!”

 

“When I said I’d model for you it was only because I didn’t think it would be sooo boring,” Gelato whined melodramatically. The man was absolutely restless, filled with too much unbridled energy to ever stay still, especially not when you really needed him too. He had ruined multiple poses already, and you kept giving him easier and easier ones. Finally he ended up sprawled out lazily in a chair, as loose and comfortable as possible, and even then he couldn’t hold still.

 

You glared at him. “You said you’d model for me because you knew it would make me uncomfortable.”

 

Gelato snickered. “Something like that.”

 

“But you still offered! Tell me if you can’t handle this so I can go find someone else!” you grumbled.

 

“I’ve never seen Ghiaccio doing this shit before,” Gelato said, running his fingers through his hair. When your glare hardened he put his hand back down on the armrest in the approximate place it had been before. “You let him flail his arms all over the place!”

 

“The assignments were different,” you replied, resigning yourself to the fact that the shadow on his forearm had changed yet again. “We’re moving into longer form anatomy studies. Ghiaccio was good for all the warm-up work and quick draw exercises,“ you said, although many of your Ghiaccio drawings were also just for fun and personal practice, ”but now I need to start refining my drawings.” Ghiaccio was out on a mission today, but you doubted he would fare much better than Gelato, since keeping perfectly still was just as hard for the man. You really needed someone with a little more self control.

 

Sorbet had of course come to mind first, but part of you was still absolutely giddy inside whenever you thought about him. After hearing him talk in that beautiful voice far longer than he had ever talked before, and with such vulnerability, you found yourself thinking about him even more than you already had been. He had shown you a softer side of him that you had only caught a few glimpses of before. Even with your breakdown, he had been so kind and gentle. You felt like the two of you were finally friends, although you would wait a little longer before you said as much.

 

But you decided to take Gelato up on his offer instead. You wanted nothing more than to spend hours drawing Sorbet, but you were reluctant. You knew now that Gelato did not get jealous, and he seemed to find the times when Sorbet teased you for your attraction to be absolutely hilarious. Their love for each other was deep and fierce, unyielding to any outside threats. You still felt guilty about the way you thought about Sorbet, even though you knew you weren’t doing anything to cross over either of their boundaries.

 

You had also thought maybe your boldness in confronting him about his joke offer would show him you meant business. You didn’t want to keep backing down from every encounter with the man. If you wanted to be closer to Sorbet then you felt that you should try to be closer with Gelato too, especially if it meant appearing more transparent about your intentions. However, while you had managed to stay unflappable in the face of his teasing when you asked him to model, you could not stop your absolute frustration with him now.

 

“If you’re studying my anatomy,” Gelato cooed salaciously, “then why am I still wearing this old thing?”

 

“No! Please, don’t- and okay! You’re doing it anyway,” you said, biting down softly on your fingers to keep yourself from yelling. Gelato had taken off his khaki jacket, and you saw a familiar tight black tank top underneath. Your cheeks heated up a little bit, but luckily you were more upset at him wasting yet another fifteen minutes of your time.

 

“Much better,” he said with a smirk, sliding down in the chair and draping his arms to dangle over the armrests. “It is kind of stuffy in here, hm?”

 

“I don’t know what to give you that’s easier than just sitting in a chair,” you sighed, burying your face in your palms. “Maybe you can just… lay on the floor.”

 

Gelato hopped onto the free couch across from the one you were sitting on and laid himself out on his side seductively, one leg crossed over the other, with his head propped up in one hand. He batted his eyelashes slowly at you. It only made you pinch the bridge of your nose.

 

“There’s no way you can sustain that,” you said flatly.

 

“Fiiine,” he said with a pout, and laid on his back, hands crossed over his chest. “Wake me up when it's over.” As annoying as this was you felt hopeful that you might actually get a finished drawing from him this time. You started right away in case he changed his mind on cooperating. You were actually a bit surprised at how long he was able to remain not only still, but quiet as well. You’d think he was serious about taking a nap, but his eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling, and he looked deep in thought. Once you had gotten well into the drawing, you relaxed a bit.

 

It was true that his khakis made it hard to sketch most of the muscles and bone structure you were hoping to study for class. You professor of course knew that not everyone had time or access to professional nude models outside of the classroom. He had given the class the time and place for a few open studios and workshops elsewhere in the community, but a lot of them conflicted with your other classes. You studied classical paintings and figure drawings from your textbook to supplement your work, but your professor stressed the importance of drawing from life whenever you could.

 

And now that you had Gelato finally laid serenely before you, you could see why. Each rise and fall of his chest, each tiny flex and twitch of his muscles as he did his best not to move for you, every place where his bones pulled his skin taut… soon you were lost in his body. There were his soft luscious lips and his defined jawline, usually shaved smooth but dusted with light stubble today. His broad shoulders and his long legs and arms ending in his manicured teal fingernails. The subtle curve of his hips, and the light blonde hairs trailed delicately on his soft belly that hid the strong abdominals beneath. You drank in every detail as you rendered his form in your sketchbook with meticulous care.

 

“Enjoying the view?” Gelato asked, playful but not facetious. You looked to his face, half lidded eyes and a tired smile. Him actually falling asleep seemed like a possibility as the minutes dragged on.

 

“Thanks for staying still,” you said, sincerely. Despite your earlier frustration, and the fact that he loved to bother you, you knew it was genuinely hard for him.

 

“That’s not an answer,” he said, the familiar glint of mischief returning to his drowsy eyes.

 

You gave a small laugh. “You’re very handsome, Gelato.” You had just been giving him what he asked for lately, knowing that it was no fun for him.

 

He gave a disappointed “tch” under his breath. “You’ve built up an immunity lately. I’ll have to up the dosage.”

 

“Oh please, no,” you laughed again, a little more exasperated.

 

He just smirked and kept staring at you while you continued your sketch. After a moment he gave a small hum. “So, Sorbet told you his big secret, huh?” Gelato asked. You looked at him intently before your eyes started scanning the room, finally landing on the big mirror mounted on the wall. “Illuso isn’t here today,” he added.

 

You relaxed. “Yeah, he told me.”

 

“What a twist, right?” he said with a wide grin, showing off his pearly whites.

 

“I guess, yeah,” you responded. “Certainly didn’t expect it.”

 

Gelato hummed again. “I guess you earned his trust after all. Congratulations.” His tone wasn’t sarcastic but it wasn’t candid either. He said it lightly and casually, but there was something unreadable beneath the surface.

 

You shrugged. “I guess that means I’m coming for you now,” you said calmly.

 

His eyes sparkled. “What’s your modus operandi?” he asked. “Egghead, in the common area, with the candlestick?” 

 

“Definitely not a gun,” you said with a bitter self-berating laugh. You expected Gelato to laugh too, but he just frowned. His gaze went back to the ceiling.

 

“It would be tasteless to ask if you want to learn how to use a knife, wouldn’t it?” he asked with a somber expression, but there was a lighthearted lilt behind the words.

 

“Ooooh yeah, definitely not,” you scoffed. He seemed to relax a little when you took it as a joke like he intended. “But… he’s still going to teach me self defense.”

 

He gave another thoughtful hum. “That still helps,” Gelato said, though he didn’t sound like he believed it. This conversation was making you sad. 

 

“Um… I’m done, if you want to see it,” you said to change the subject. Any hint of drowsiness was gone as if a switch had been flipped and you were taken aback by just how fast he had hopped off his couch and onto yours. He leaned in, shoulder to shoulder with you, and peered down at your drawing of him.

 

“Oooh, this one is actually good,” Gelato said with a cheeky smile.

 

“Yeah, well, you actually stayed still this time,” you said grumpily, but you loved the praise. He reached down between your arms to trace his fingers lightly over the drawing of himself. “Don’t smudge it!”

 

He chuckled and lifted his fingers to the left corner of the page to turn it back and look at your previous attempts. “The other ones aren’t terrible, though I can tell you were a lot more into that last one.” You were suddenly aware of the fact that his khaki jacket was still off, and the bare skin of his arms was pressed against your side. Every time he flipped a page his arm would graze against yours. As he turned back some more pages his eyes lit up. “Oh, hello, who’s this tall drink of water?”

 

You blushed a bit, but tried to keep yourself composed. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your boyfriend.”

 

“I was talking about this one over here,” Gelato responded, reaching across the portraits of Sorbet to point at a tiny cartoon image you’d doodled of yourself in the lower corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter. He joined in soon after, and it was like that first night you met him all over again. His hyena laugh had really grown on you.

 

“What’s so funny over there?” called a voice from across the room. Still laughing, you and Gelato turned to see Formaggio leaning against the entryway to the common area. He had a big goofy grin on his face at the sight of you two in hysterics, and it only faltered for a second when he saw how close the two of you were pressed together, Gelato showing more skin than usual. He walked over to your couch and took a look at the book in your hands. “Not bad,” he said about your drawings.

 

“Thanks!” you said, trying to calm down. You flipped through some pages to show off the work you did today. “Gelato wouldn’t stay still, but I at least got one really good one of him!” you managed to say coherently.

 

Formaggio looked at your final drawing. It really was a nice render of Gelato, and you clearly put a lot of effort into it. “If you wanted a model you could have asked me,” he said, chuckling.

 

“You weren’t here!” you said. “And Gelato called dibs a while ago.”

 

Formaggio pouted. “I didn’t know there was dibs going on,” he said.

 

“I’ll draw you next,” you said with a big smile, and that wiped the frown right off of Formaggio’s face. He sat down next to you on the couch, leaning in a little closer, and now you were sandwiched in between the two men.

 

“So, you two are finally getting along?” Formaggio asked.

 

“No, not at all,” you said, failing to maintain any semblance of seriousness in your tone. “I’m still plotting the best way to take him out.”

 

Gelato wheezed. “Have you considered death by laughter? You’re funny enough for it to be viable.”

 

You scoffed. “Whenever you call me funny it’s never in a nice way.”

 

“I’m mean, remember?” Gelato responded with a smirk, reminding you again of the first night you met. You stuck out your tongue at him.

 

Formaggio seemed amused by both your antics, and in general he was glad to see that one of the biggest sources of tension in your life was finally being civil with you. Still though, he slung his arm around you protectively and pulled you in closer.

 

“Remember: just say the word,” Formaggio said with a sly grin, flexing his free arm. He had promised he would “get” Gelato for you, hadn’t he?

 

You leaned into Formaggio’s grip and laid your head on his shoulder. “I think I can take him, Maggi. He’s not so tough.”

 

Gelato got that recognizable devilish look on his face as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is that a challenge?” You flashed him an innocent smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Well,” he said, “I actually think you have a pretty good chance taking me on, all things considered.” He snaked his hand around your waist since Formaggio had his arm around your shoulders already. “But.”

 

Gelato leaned close to your ear and whispered for only you to hear. “Do you think you can handle me and Sorbet at the same time?” he asked, voice dark and seductive.

 

Formaggio was demanding to know what Gelato said to you as you buried your burning hot face in your arms to hide yourself. Gelato’s laugh was already echoing from the other room. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be completely immune to that poison.

Notes:

;-)

Chapter 15: Lungha, Her Sky Gray

Summary:

Formaggio confesses his feelings for you.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“I would have taught you to shoot if you’d have let me known,” Formaggio said, using the back of a chair to keep his arms supported as he stood. He was giving you some much more dynamic standing poses to work with than you were able to get from Gelato earlier. Before this he’d been able to keep his arms raised in all sorts of flexes and stretches, but he was growing tired. You had told him he didn’t need to keep going since you had enough for your assignment, but it seemed like he wanted to be in the spotlight for just as long as Gelato had.

 

“I didn’t come up with it myself. And I definitely don’t want to anymore,” you replied with a sigh. You were catching Formaggio up with recent events in your life, and you had just finished explaining your little misadventure with Sorbet. You left out some of the more intimate details.

 

He gave a small nod, careful not to move too much. “But it sounds like those two are finally warming up to you.”

 

“I’d like to think so,” you said, smiling to yourself.

 

“That’s good, I was worried. I was so sure at the start that you three would get along,” Formaggio said. “Since… they’re both…” he trailed off hesitantly.

 

“Gay?” you finished for him.

 

“Gay,” Formaggio repeated sheepishly.

 

“Gay,” you repeated again with a chuckle. “Yeah, well, me too. I was really excited about meeting them. And… then I did. And it sucked.”

 

“They’re kind of… intense,” Formaggio said. “They do their own thing a lot of the time, and they’re really hard to read. Sorbet, especially.”

 

“Nah,” you responded. “Gelato is the hard one to read. Sorbet is easy. He usually says exactly what he means.”

 

“He doesn’t talk enough for that to matter,” Formaggio replied.

 

“Well, when you’re alone with him, I mean,” you said.

 

Formaggio laughed. “Yeah, but when is he ever alone?”

 

The question struck you as odd. “I mean, he’s not the majority of the time I guess? But Sorbet and Gelato do things on their own plenty. Like Sorbet taking me out to shoot, or Gelato modeling for me,” you said.

 

“Wait, Sorbet took you to shoot alone?” Formaggio asked, his brows furrowing. Was that really so strange? You confirmed for him that you and Sorbet were indeed alone together. “Huh. Interesting,” he said, his voice giving no clues as to what he was thinking. You wondered what was so interesting about it. Well, you guessed you had found it interesting when you showed up and Gelato wasn’t there, but what made it interesting to Formaggio? He saw your confused expression and added, “Neither of them have ever done anything outside work with the rest of us unless they were both together. They’re a package deal.”

 

You had assumed that of the two of them on some level, but part of you still wondered how often the others actually made an effort to get to know them on an individual level. But maybe that was on Sorbet and Gelato as well, since they seemed to keep their distance. You at least knew for a fact that Gelato cared about his teammates. He had called them his family , a word Formaggio never used himself.

 

Formaggio looked contemplative. “They’ve been hanging around the base more than they used to. And when I’ve seen them alone it’s usually with you.”

 

“Think it means something?” you asked, capturing the curve of his strong forearm. Every muscle on Formaggio’s body was so well defined that it made understanding how each part of his body connected to the next a simple task. You didn’t often get the chance to draw someone with such an athletic physique in your class, and you loved the opportunity. 

 

“Just proves even those two can’t resist your charm,” Formaggio replied.

 

“You think so?” You asked it as a joke, but the thought made you happy. He chuckled.

 

“Oh, hey! Did you find out what Sorbet’s stand does?” Formaggio asked suddenly, his eyes lighting up. 

 

“No,” you said flatly, technically not lying since Sorbet did in fact not have a stand at all. The light in Formaggio’s eyes faded and he frowned in disappointment, letting out a quiet “damn.” But the disappointment was soon replaced with an expression so cheerful that you had to stop drawing to arch an eyebrow at him.

 

“You know what all this means though, right? You’re officially a part of the squad now,” Formaggio said.

 

“I wasn’t already?” you asked, sticking out your tongue at him. You took a look at your phone clock and told Formaggio he could break the pose. He seemed relieved, as it looked like he was finally ready to call it quits.

 

He sat back next to you on the couch and wrapped his arm around you again. He was always an affectionate guy towards you, but you had noticed an increase in his physical touches recently. He leaned his head on top of yours and admired the drawings you had done of him. He really pushed himself to give you the best poses possible to work with, and he loved how much cleaner and more polished the drawings of him looked compared to your ones from earlier in the day.

 

Even with memories of the countless discussions he and Pesci shared together about what it meant to be a “real man” buzzing in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel proud at the sight of his muscles transcribed beautifully by your hand; Gelato was downright scrawny in comparison. But he could unpack that with Pesci later. Right now he was focused on you.

 

“But really. You’re not going anywhere now. And if Gelato still has any funny ideas, it doesn’t matter,” Formaggio said, stroking your hair. You practically purred and cuddled up closer to him, and his heart started beating faster. “You belong here. We should celebrate.”

 

“Oh?” you asked, looking up at him with curiosity and a charming smile. God, you were so fucking cute. “A big night out on the town with La Squadra?”

 

“Actually…”  Formaggio said, his confidence wavering. He took his arm off you and grabbed your hand, entwining his fingers with yours. “I was thinking… maybe just the two of us.”

 

You raised an eyebrow before it slowly dawned on you what exactly he might be asking. You felt your face flush. Were you wrong? You had gone to a couple football games with him and it had never been anything but friendly. Why was he looking at you like that, though? You’d never seen him look so tender and afraid at the same time.

 

“...Maggi?” you said. “Do you mean, like…?”

 

“Will you go out with me?” he said, clearing any uncertainty about his intentions. Formaggio put his other hand on yours as well, both clasping it tightly. You let out an incoherent noise as you processed his words. “And, before you say yes or no, I need you to know,” he continued, voice very firm and serious. “I know you’re not a girl, or a guy. I’m not asking you out as either. I don’t want you to think that.” He squeezed your hand. “And if you don’t want to, I don’t want shit to be weird. You’re my friend before anything else. I just…”

 

He took a deep breath, searching your eyes for any sign that he should stop telling you how he felt. Your expression was a bit dazed, but still soft, kind. Your eyes pleaded with him to continue.

 

“Ever since I met you… no, even as far as since Pesci met you, you’ve been making everything so… weird for me. Not bad, but weird. I love girls and I think they’re hot… and I’m like, a cool tough dude and shit, yeah?” Formaggio said.

 

“Yeah,” you affirmed, politely holding back a quiet chuckle.

 

“Yeah,” he repeated, “so like it’s just. Weird. Because you’re not a girl but I still think you’re so hot.” You blushed at the admission. “And I don’t know what that means for me. But I love you and trust you like you’re one of my bros, like Illuso or Ghiaccio. You and Pesci, you’re both like my bros...” He looked like he immediately regretted saying what he did. “But not really... for obvious reasons. And I think about shit that I don’t think about when I’m around the others. You don’t think about shit the same way as me, but I’m starting to get it.”

 

Following his train of thought was a little difficult but he had your full attention. You were surprised he had said he “loved” Illuso and Ghiaccio, something he would never say in a million years to their faces. You were surprised by a lot of the things he was saying right now, but it also all felt so real and coherent, like this was always there just right under the surface.

 

“And now I just feel weird, because I used to want to just fuck around with girls and show off for them and get in fights with guys at the bar to make them think I’m tough shit, but lately it just seems stupid? Because I don’t have to do any of that for you to like me, and I’d rather spend time with you and Pesci whenever a girl asks me out anyway. And I just have to know that it actually means something, that I’m not being weird over nothing. I don’t understand this shit and you’re the one I trust most to help me.”

 

You took your hands out of his grasp and he looked a bit hurt until you wrapped them around his hands instead, squeezing them gently. His face melted into a look of absolute adoration.

 

“It doesn’t have to turn into anything," he continued, "I just feel like I’ll never be able to talk to girls normal again unless I know for sure if they’re the only kind of people I could ever see myself with. Because... I think I can see myself with you. I want to know if that’s actually true.” He searched you desperately for an answer.

 

“Formaggio…” you began, your thumb lightly stroking the top of his hand, “you’re one of my best friends. You and Pesci are my two closest friends here. Anywhere . You mean the world to me. I would love to go on a date with my best friend and see if anything happens between us. It won’t change that you’re my best friend and that I love you.”

 

You leaned down to kiss his knuckles. “There’s nothing to lose,” you assured him.

 

Formaggio separated his hands from yours and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in your shoulder. You could slowly feel your shoulder growing wet, and the presence of tears was confirmed when you heard him give a small sob. “I was scared I would hurt you,” he said, trying to keep his voice even despite his tears. “Because I only talk about liking girls.”

 

You gently rubbed his back. “Most things in life aren’t so static, Maggi. How could you know if you liked a gender other than girls or guys if you had never met someone with one?” you asked.

 

“I said you’re like a bro to me,” he continued, sounding apologetic. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t like hanging out with you because I think of you as another dude. I’ve never had friends who weren’t just guys before, but you and Pesci… it’s different when I’m alone with the two of you. It makes me feel like I don’t have to worry so much about being a tough guy and shit.”

 

“Thank god for that,” you said with a gentle snicker.

 

He pulled back, a look of deep concern on his face as if he had just had a sudden realization. “You do like men, right? I didn’t fuck up on that, did I?” he said, frantic and filled with guilt.

 

You laughed, and gave him a kind smile that immediately calmed him. “Yeah, I like men, don’t worry.” You reached your hand up to wipe away some stray tears. He looked a little embarrassed to be the one getting comforted, another hang up about his masculinity, but he leaned into your touch. “I like girls too,” you added.

 

Formaggio laughed. “I guess we have that in common.”

 

“You’d also be safe to assume I like nonbinary people,” you said with a shrug.

 

“Me too,” he said, his expression filled with admiration before some doubt crept in. “At least, I think so, I mean.”

 

“Don’t worry too much about that right now,” you said, cupping his face with your hand. “That’s the hard stuff. Let’s talk about the fun stuff now, like where my best friend is going to take me on our date.” His face lit up as he finally processed that you had not rejected him and were indeed willing to go on a date with him.

 

“Well, I have these two tickets to an indie circuit pro wrestling match for this weekend,” Formaggio said.

 

“Romantic,” you replied playfully.

 

“Yeah, well, it better be since I forked over good cash to get front row seats.”

 

“No expenses spared for me, eh?" you teased. "And before you even knew if I’d say yes?”

 

“It wasn’t going to be a date at first. Besides Pesci loves that shit, so he’d come if you said no,” Formaggio said.

 

“Oh, no way, I’d never give up the opportunity to see professional wrestling live with front row seats.”

 

Formaggio raised an eyebrow. “You like pro wrestling?”

 

“In theory. I’ve never really tuned in, but I like the idea of it. Hot shirtless men throwing each other around in flamboyant costumes, playing dashing heroes and crafty villains... Plus, I consider myself somewhat of a patron of the arts. It’s the most accessible form of live theater,” you explained, launching into an in-depth analysis of popular culture and the historic and cultural importance of the rich tradition of live performance. Formaggio was used to having no idea what you were talking about, and although nowadays it was easier to follow along with your explanations on gender and sexuality, sometimes you’d say weird shit like this. You were the only person he knew who could academicize pro wrestling.

 

“I was a professional wrestler before Passione,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement.

 

“Really!?” You asked, eyes lighting up in awe. Fuck, you were adorable.

 

“Yeah,” he said, picking you up and making you yelp before sitting you in his lap. He wrapped his arm around your neck in a loose mock-chokehold. “And I was a heel,” he whispered dangerously in your ear.

 

You clutched at his arm, and giggled involuntary in response to the heat spreading all over your body. You imagined Formaggio in tights, no shirt, drenched in sweat, showboating for a booing crowd as he jeered and taunted to further provoke their ire. “Wow, that’s really…” you trailed off. He looked so smug and nefarious in your fantasy. “Hot ,” you whispered.

 

There was an awkward silence before Formaggio put a firm but comfortable amount of pressure into his chokehold, ruffling your hair with his other hand. “Excuse me!? Say that again!?” You let out an “eep!” as you tried to squirm out of his grip. “You like bad boys, huh!? I would have told you sooner if I had known!”

 

“Get off me!” you giggled.

 

“I’m going to suplex you,” Formaggio warned, followed by a booming laugh as you attempted to escape.

 

“Nooo!” you cried out between laughs.

Notes:

Hold on while I fix the relationship tags LMAO.........

Chapter 16: Darmok and Jalad on the Ocean

Summary:

You go on your date with Formaggio and then have a sleepover.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As emotional as Formaggio’s confession had been, the days leading up to the date played out fairly normal. You two didn’t tell anyone but Pesci, and you were surprised to find that he was actually the one who had convinced Formaggio to ask you out in the first place. You supposed your surprise was a bit misplaced though, since nowadays Pesci really eclipsed his teammates in being emotionally well-adjusted. He probably knew Formaggio liked you before the man knew himself.

 

Formaggio was a handsome man. You had always thought that. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the majority of La Squadra attractive though. Formaggio teased you until you blushed sometimes, and he was on average more physically affectionate than the others were with you, but it hadn’t crossed your mind to try to be anything other than friends with him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him in a romantic context, but you were still very willing to give things a shot.

 

Before you even knew it the night had come. You supposed a date to a wrestling match didn’t require the most formal of attire, but you got a little dressy for the occasion. Formaggio picked you up at your place in his sports car and the first thing you noticed was that he had cleaned all the garbage out of the front seat. The back looked clean enough too, unless you happened to crane your neck to look directly behind the passenger’s seat, where some trash had been hidden. You laughed to yourself and pretended you hadn’t noticed.

 

Formaggio looked pretty casual himself, and when you arrived at the gymnasium where the show would be held, you got a better look at him. You had almost thought he looked a little too casual for a date but once you took a look at his graphic tee you knew why he had worn it. 

 

“Holy shit, is that authentic Formaggio brand merch?” you asked with a wild laugh. It was clearly some kind of promotional shirt and it had a vinyl rendering of what might have been Formaggio smacking the silhouette of another man with a steel chair, although it looked like it was drawn by a first year graphic design student who hadn’t gotten the hang of things yet.

 

Valentino Payne?” you read off his shirt. You noted that the font was Papyrus, and laughed harder.

 

“Hey, hey, show some respect! Valentino Payne used to be a household name around these parts,” Formaggio said, reaching over to headlock you. You slipped out of his grasp just in time. “Until he uh. Illegally Curb Stomped a few too many guys and got banned from every indie circuit in the region.”

 

“Maggi, that’s terrible!” you said, tone admonishing as you tried to keep yourself from laughing again.

 

“They would have banned me sooner if they could, but the fans loved that shit,” Formaggio said with a shrug, waiting until your guard was lowered before he reached for you again. This time instead of a headlock he just draped his arm over your shoulder. You smiled as he led you towards the line forming at the gym entrance.

 

You had a wonderful time. The seats were fantastic and you could see just about every aspect of the performance. A lot of the wrestlers went for some really gimmicky personas and you relished the absurdity of it all. You had no illusions about pro wrestling being an actual competition. But the sheer athleticism involved in the way two men, or occasionally more, would work with each other on making their match exciting and memorable had you cheering and booing as loud as you could. Even outside the fighting you were gripped by the way everyone delivered their speeches, or “promos” as Formaggio had informed you. 

 

“It’s all part of the kayfabe, babe,” Formaggio told you over the yelling of the crowd. “These guys are really good, actually. I’m impressed.” You were glad he said that because it was hard to tell if he was enjoying the show when he’d also lean over to let you know whenever a move was botched or a cue was misread. You supposed deconstructing the match could be fun in its own way for him.

 

By the time the show was over you were very happy but really out of it. Being around all that loud noise for several hours had done a number on you, and you were feeling overstimulated. But it had been so much fun that you were willing to push through.

 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Formaggio asked as the two of you walked back to the parking lot. You had never spent the night at La Squadra base before, and you said it was a little too late into the evening for you to show up unannounced. “No, like. My place. My apartment,” Formaggio clarified, nervously scratching the back of his head.

 

You hesitated before he made it very clear to you he had no ulterior motives. He said that the two of you could just talk, since the wrestling venue did not provide the best environment for it, and maybe watch a movie or something. He said that his couch was pretty comfortable but he could always take it instead if you wanted to use the bed. The idea of having a sleepover with him sounded pretty nice since there was still an excited buzz within you that had yet to dissipate. You weren’t ready for the night to end yet. He told you he had a pet cat and there wasn’t any way you were saying no after that.






“She’s never like that with me,” Formaggio grumbled as his cat sat curled up in your lap, looking very pleased with the pets you were giving her.

 

“That’s because Maggi is a big meanie, isn’t he?” you cooed at the ball of fur. Formaggio scoffed, and although he was a bit jealous of you for gaining his cat’s approval so fast, he couldn’t help but feel pleased at how excited you looked to hold her.

 

The two of you were in his room, sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall. You both had ordered a pizza since neither of you had factored dinner into your date, and now the both of you were just chatting. Some of the topics had gone into some pretty personal territory and you felt like the both of you were learning a lot about each other that you never knew before. It felt like the kind of late night slumber party gossip that you hadn’t had since high school, and it was nostalgic.

 

“Okay, I’ve got another one,” you said after a thoughtful silence. “You don’t have to answer though if it makes you uncomfortable. But… out of all the guys… if you had to pick… who do you think is the hottest?”

 

“Illuso,” he responded, and you were surprised by how quickly he answered this time. You could feel him growing more comfortable as the night went on and it seemed most of his inhibitions were gone.

 

“Illuso?” you asked. Illuso was a very pretty man, and you supposed even Formaggio could admit it.

 

“Yeah. If I had to pick one of them,” he said with a shrug. “His eyes are nice.” You were expected to answer in turn, as was the pattern up until now, but as you were thinking about it Formaggio smirked and said, “I already know your answer.”

 

“Oh yeah?” you asked with a smirk of your own, guessing where this was heading. He’d probably say himself and you’d playfully punch his shoulder and you’d both laugh.

 

“Yeah, it’s Sorbet isn’t it?” he said instead. You sat up straight at that, and turned to look right at him as you felt your cheeks heating up.

 

“Well! I mean...!” you began, spluttering out your words. The cat in your lap jumped up at your sudden exclamation and ran to the door.

 

“Is it not true?” Formaggio asked, looking amused by your reaction.

 

“Aaahhh… Is it really that obvious?” you asked, deflating.

 

“The others wrote it off as you just being easy to rile up, like you always are,” Formaggio said, and you gave a small huff at that. “But I could tell.” You leaned your head back and it bumped against the wall.

 

“Okay but… he’s really beautiful,” you sighed.

 

Formaggio laughed. “If you say so, I guess.” After a pause he added, “Gelato gets you pretty worked up too.”

 

“Yeah, because he’s the worst!” you shot back immediately, exasperated.

 

“Yeah he is,” he repeated, flexing his arm to let you know the standing offer of ‘getting’ Gelato was always on the table. “That’s pretty rough though. Having a crush on someone already in a relationship.”

 

“Who said anything about a crush ?” you said, spluttering your words yet again. “I don’t need to have a crush on someone just because I think they’re cute!” Formaggio just looked at you with a raised eyebrow and an unconvinced smile. If the pillows weren’t on his side of the bed right now they’d be flying at his face.

 

“I wish the both of them wouldn’t tease you so much,” he continued, his smile falling a bit. “It actually kind of irritates me. I guess it’s funny for them or whatever, but I’d hate to see you get hurt.” You pondered that. After hearing someone else point it out you felt a little silly. They were already an item and the last thing you wanted to do was split them apart, as if it was even possible to begin with.

 

But tonight you were on a date with Formaggio. You were supposed to be focused on how you felt about him and examining that. You were surprised that Formaggio seemed so casual talking about Sorbet and Gelato. “You’re not… bothered? By me thinking Sorbet’s nice looking?” you asked, turning to look at him with an inquisitive expression.

 

Formaggio sighed and joined you in leaning his head against the wall. “I mean, a little I guess. I was jealous at first, yeah. But then I thought ‘he’s already in a relationship, so he isn’t a threat to me’, but,” he said, rubbing his neck, “Pesci said it’s not healthy to think of it like that. Like I’m in competition for you against others. It’s shitty.”

 

“A bit, yeah!” you chastised. “Pesci said that? He’s wise beyond his years,” you added. “I’m glad you listen to him.”

 

“Me too,” Formaggio said with a fond smile. “It’s weird to think I used to see him as the immature one. It feels like I’m La Squadra’s weak link now.”

 

“Oh no, don’t say that,” you said, looking up at him with a compassionate expression. He just laughed and waved his hand dismissively.

 

“They all think my stand is useless,” Formaggio said with a resigned chuckle. “And I’m usually the first to fuck something up.”

 

You reached over and put your hand on his shoulder. “Oh come on, they still love you. There’s worse things in life than being a bad assassin,” you said, giving an uncomfortable chuckle.

 

Formaggio made a low noise in his throat. “It’s not as simple as just loving each other. Our lives are always on the line.” He shifted uncomfortably and pushed himself off the wall and maneuvered his body to lay down, sprawling himself out on the bed in front of you. “If my stand is weak, and that’s funny to them, it’s whatever. But if it’s weak, and it gets one of them killed… or me killed... ” He was quiet for a bit before adding: “Being a bad assassin isn’t a personality flaw, it’s a death sentence.”

 

You were used to shying away from the reality of it, pushing the possibility that any of them could die out of your mind. But for some reason it hit you hard now, and it hurt bad. You moved to lay down next to him, cuddling up against him and holding him close. He wrapped his arm around you and you both stared at each other somberly.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing small circles on your back.

 

“No… it’s… it’s true. Any of you can die at any time. I know it's true, and you shouldn’t have to pretend like it isn’t around me,” you said. “It’s scary. I know how dumb and niave it sounds but I really really wish you guys didn’t… kill people.” Formaggio turned to look up at the ceiling and you moved in closer to lay your head on his chest. “I… I hate it,” you choked out. You had never offered any sort of judgment or moral appraisal of La Squadra’s line of work before. You had avoided thinking about it so much that it shocked you when you said it out loud. You were worried you had upset Formaggio when he didn’t say anything, but he soon turned back to you and brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

 

“We had all accepted this life. We had no reason to regret it,” Formaggio said. “Until we met you.” You started sobbing and giving incoherent apologies, but he just held you closer. “No, shhh… no… we love you. I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Dying means something now. Living means something now.” That only made you bawl even harder.

 

You laid there holding on to each other for a while as you finally let out all the frustration and fear you never dared to confront, telling Formaggio everything as your voice grew hoarse. You could feel a weight lifted after finally saying just how afraid you were for all of them, expressing your resentment for Passione and for all the evil in the world that led them to this life.

 

But there was so much love, too. You told him about how La Squadra was all you had, and how you couldn’t imagine being without them. You had always been afraid to confess just how dependent you were on them for any sense of acceptance and belonging. You thought it might make them feel guilty or that they’d become distant if there was no one else for you to fall back on if things ever got too ugly. Every insecurity and fear you ever had was laid bare.

 

And when it was all finally out in the open, you felt freed of uncertainty. You were no longer lying to yourself about how much you hated all of this, but at the same time you had no more doubts that you didn’t belong with them.

 

You would live with the consequences of loving these men. When Gelato asked if you could, you weren’t sure. You had your resolve now.

 

You were finally winding down and Formaggio had left to get you some tissues to blow your nose with. When he came back in you saw just how wet and snotty his shirt looked.

 

“Oh noooooo,” you sniffled. “Not Valentino Payne…” He laughed at that, handing you a tissue box, which you immediately made use of.

 

“This shirt has seen worse,” he assured you. When you were a bit more cleaned up and composed he laid back down with you.

 

“I had fun on our date,” you said. Everything else you had wanted to say had been said. You wanted to move on. You wanted to reflect on the reason you were here tonight.

 

Formaggio gave you a big smile. “Me too. I always like doing stuff with you.”

 

While you felt a lot closer to the man after tonight the date itself didn’t strike you as anything particularly different than usual. You weren’t sure if you were expecting big sweeping romantic gestures or the next level of physical intimacy, but none of it happened. The intimacy you felt right now was so loving and tender, but strangely platonic. You supposed that being in love with your best friend would be nice. It was all a big emotional muddle right now, and you wanted his insight.

 

“So, how do you feel about… us?” you asked.

 

He put both his hands behind his head as he gave it some thought. “I don’t know. I really had this whole date hyped up in my head ever since I asked you out, and I thought by the end of it I’d get some big revelation or some shit, but I kind of feel the same. Like, I love you, and I like being with you, but… I kept thinking I’d fall in love with you tonight. I kept waiting for something to click, but it didn’t.”

 

You gave a thoughtful hum. “Some relationships are really slow to happen,” you said.

 

Formaggio looked at you, studying your expression. “Do you want something with me? Did you feel something tonight?”

 

“Oh, I felt a lot of things tonight,” you said with a tired laugh. “And I feel like I love you even more than before. But I don’t feel like I have a definite answer. Did you want to go on another date?”

 

“Yeah… I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of stuff to think about. Not just about us, but about me,” he said, pausing for a moment, “and… death? I have a lot of feelings about dying right now that I usually never have. Tonight really helped me, but I’m not exactly sure how yet. I want to take some time to think about everything on my own.”

 

“I hope we can still hang out, even if it isn’t in a dating context?” you asked, a little dejected at the idea that things might be weird between the two of you now.

 

But when he smiled at you, that feeling subsided. “Of course,” Formaggio assured you. “I’ll keep dragging you out to football games and wrestling matches and whatever else.”

 

“Good…” you said, suddenly aware of just how tired your voice sounded.

 

“Don’t feel like you have to wait up for me,” he added. “If you want to ask Illuso or some nerd from school out, don’t feel like I’m holding you back. I might try going on dates with other people again too. I don’t know, though.”

 

“Illuso?” you asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

 

“Ghiaccio then, I don’t know,” he grumbled. “Whoever.” You gave a small laugh. It was silent for a while and you could feel yourself slowly drifting closer to sleep, the rhythmic stroking of Formaggio’s hand on your back making it difficult to keep your eyes open. “Would it be weird if I still wanted this though?” he asked, startling you back to consciousness. “Just, holding you like this? Lying next to you? Even if we’re not together?”

 

“I’m more than okay with it,” you murmured, snuggling closer.

 

“No matter how things end up you still mean the world to me. I promise, we’ll keep you safe. And we’ll do what we can to stay safe for you,” he said. All you could do was give a hum in acknowledgement.

 

“We’re a family,” Formaggio said, and it was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

Notes:

There is of course another timeline where they get together and this is a Formaggio/Reader fic. Maybe I'll come back to this with a follow-up work once I finish The Last Bedroom Door.

Chapter 17: Kadir Beneath Mo Moteh

Summary:

You learn self defense. What could go wrong?

Chapter Text

Your newfound resolve had you seeking out Sorbet the next time you were at the base to tell him you were ready for him to teach you self defense. He expressed his initial concern since it hadn’t been all that long since your emotional breakdown, but the confidence in your voice and the self assured look in your eye eased his doubts. After scoping out a few local gyms for the one that offered the most space and privacy compatible with your availability, you had several sessions scheduled.

 

Sorbet was just as thorough as he had been with the gun practice. Your first session barely touched on any actual training and you mostly focused on stretching since you were starting from slightly below average fitness. As you grew more limber and warmed up he had you focus on learning breakfalls, which he said would be the backbone of many of the techniques he’d teach you. It was harder than you thought it’d be, as the execution of breakfalling went against most of your body’s instincts on what to do while plummeting to the ground. Before you got the hang of it you had bumped your head a few times and your tailbone often felt sore when you were done for the day.

 

But you persisted, and took every lesson he threw your way with a determination that surprised you as much as it pleased him. Sometimes you felt motivated enough to set time aside to stretch at home. One time when you felt particularly riled up after a bad day at school you went to the gym on your own just to try lifting some weights and using the treadmill. When you could barely walk or lift your arms the next day you thought that maybe Sorbet’s lessons were good enough at the moment. 

 

Once lessons started getting a bit more physical between you and Sorbet, you found yourself surprised at how much easier it was to keep your composure. You used your conviction in coming to these lessons with everything you had to chase away any unprofessional thoughts. It was only when you were lying awake in bed late at night that you’d let yourself swoon a little at the memory of how close he got to you.

 

It was a little over a week since your first session when you arrived at the gym one day and were greeted not by Sorbet, as you expected, but by Sorbet and another very familiar man.

 

“Hey, fancy seeing you here!” Gelato called out to you as you approached them. You smiled and gave the man a cheerful greeting of your own.

 

After what Formaggio had said to you that night you fell asleep in his arms, you wanted nothing more for Gelato to see you as a part of his family like the others did. As amiable as things were between the two of you now, you could tell there was still something holding the both of you back from really being friends. You’d make good use of your time with him today.

 

“I hope it’s okay if Gelato joins us,” Sorbet said. “I figured that our lessons would benefit from me getting the chance to correct your form as an outsider observer.”

 

“Sorbet told me you kept kicking him in the shins,” Gelato added with a smirk in your direction. You reflexively gave a sheepish laugh in response to a pang of guilt remembering your last session. Sorbet just shrugged.

 

“Well, Gelato’s shins can suffer in my stead today,” he said with his usual somber drone. His eyes always betrayed his emotions, though, laughing for him. He was in a good mood today, and you suspected that Gelato’s presence might have had a lot to do with it.

 

“How noble,” you said sarcastically with a wide grin at Gelato.

 

“For my liege, anything,” Gelato said, bowing dramatically at Sorbet. “My body is but a vessel to carry out his will.”

 

That got a snort out of Sorbet, and he pushed down on Gelato’s lowered head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward a bit. “My knight in shining armor,” Sorbet muttered with the hint of a fond smile on his lips.

 

The three of you casually made your way over to the mats and you went right into stretching. You and Sorbet were dressed in loose fitting workout clothes like usual, and while Gelato was also dressed for the gym he seemed more content to watch the two of you rather than join in. There was a stack of folded mats that Gelato was lazily sprawled out on top of, his arms dangling over the sides. He said that Sorbet never told him he had to do all the boring stuff with you, but part of you knew that he would soon grow tired of just laying there in silence. He was far too restless and energetic; not to mention there was his even more pressing desire for attention.

 

“I’m loving the view right now, you two,” Gelato called out from the mats during a particularly tough stretch. Sorbet just gave him a flirtatious smirk and pushed his stretch a little farther. You laughed a little bit, but the teasing struck you differently than it usually did. Sometimes you’d feel flustered, but recently you had been able to control your reactions a lot more around Gelato; sometimes you could get agitated when his teasing came at an inappropriate time, but his intentions seemed less spiteful recently. No, this time for whatever reason it just made you kind of sad.

 

It was pushed out of your mind soon enough as Sorbet called Gelato over to start work on some of the things you had learned last time. Gelato was cooperative for the most part, but every time Sorbet leaned in close to point something out Gelato would give him a peck on the cheek. Sorbet tried to remain serious but it was hard for him to not smile when Gelato kept doing it every chance he got. You couldn’t help smiling either. You loved their love for each other.

 

You giggled. “You two are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen,” you said, a bit wistfully. Sorbet chuckled, his no-nonsense teacher persona finally breaking, and leaned in to kiss Gelato on the lips. Soon the two of them were completely wrapped up in each other, and you figured that meant it was time for a break.

 

Gelato was very sociable towards you today, and you were happy about it. Even though he had a hard time talking about anything that didn’t directly involve or interest him, he did politely let you talk for a while about your college major while he rested his head in Sorbet’s lap as the other man played with his hair. Gelato was only half listening but he was smiling and nodding the whole time and you appreciated it. Sorbet asked you follow up questions on anything you brought up that made you particularly excited to talk about. You finally had a captive audience for your Noam Chompsky Universal Grammar diatribe. You finished up another train of thought when you noticed Gelato giving you a very soft smile and a chuckle.

 

“What is it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“You have this twinkle in your eye telling me about this nerd stuff. Really cute,” Gelato said, and Sorbet nodded in agreement. “Reminds me of Sorbet when he tells me about his books,” he added with a fond expression. Sorbet gave a chuckle and ruffled his hair.

 

“Oh! I’m just… really passionate about it is all,” you said giving a small laugh, and scratching the back of your head. You suddenly felt done talking.

 

Your lesson today was a lot more fun than the previous ones had been. You enjoyed partnering with Gelato much more than you did with Sorbet, since Gelato would make dramatic noises whenever you grabbed him or threw him around to try to make you laugh. It made you feel a bit tougher too, even if he was clearly just playing it up.

 

You started getting so lost in how much fun you were having with Gelato that you were a little less focused than you should have been. On one takedown you were distracted and you misplaced your leg as you shifted your weight, landing hard with Gelato falling right after you. When he landed on the ground he made sure to brace himself with his arms to either side of you, supporting his weight so he didn’t fall on top of you. 

 

“Whoa, you okay there?” Gelato asked, eyes wide and filled with concern.

 

“Y-yeah,” you said, a little discombobulated. “Sorry, I think I’m good.” You took a deep breath to gather your senses, and he relaxed above you when he realized you weren’t hurt. He didn’t move right away though, as it seemed he also needed a moment to collect himself. The both of you just kind of looked at each other for an awkward moment before Gelato’s expression softened.

 

“I mean it when I say you’re cute, you know that?” he said quietly, a playful grin on his face as he gazed down at you. The way he said it sounded so genuine. Too genuine. It made something in you finally snap. You pushed him off you, hard. He was surprised at the amount of force you used, but he was still ready to laugh until you sat up and glared at him. You actually looked mad this time.

 

“You’re an asshole,” you whispered bitterly, moving your eyes down to the floor and wrapping your arms around your legs.

 

“Huh?” Gelato asked, his brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding your reaction. “I… I meant it, you are. It’s true, even if you don’t think-”

 

“That’s not it! I know I’m cute,” you said, tone a little bit haughty in your annoyance. “But- but…” Your voice began to falter a bit as you felt your face grow hotter in indignation. “Why does a gay man in a relationship keep flirting with me?” It had always sort of bugged you right below the surface, but you were able to brush it off since they had always been making fun of your attraction to them. It still hurt because deep down you had hoped it was serious, a fact that you constantly berated yourself for. But now that he had called you cute with no pretense, no hint of irony… it made your blood boil.

 

Gelato had a look of realization as if he finally understood what the problem was. “Oh, no, fuck. I know you’re not a man. We’re bi,” he said with an awkward laugh. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed, and a part of you actually felt that familiar hopefulness before you quickly crushed it down at the look of relief on Gelato’s face as if he had solved the misunderstanding. ‘Was that all?’ his expression seemed to say. It just made you more pissed off. Did he think the fact that he had the capacity to be attracted to you justify him playing with your emotions? Did he think that was the only problem here?

 

“Oh, okay, sorry. You’re bi. That makes it okay then,” you shot back sarcastically. Sorbet crouched down between the two of you, his eyes hard and questioning as he looked at Gelato, who only gave him an exasperated shrug. Sorbet looked to you and his confused expression just made you more upset; you thought at least he’d be the one self aware enough to understand.

 

“I’m tired of being a joke!” you said. “I’m tired of my feelings being a joke. Maybe it doesn’t seem like such a big deal since it’s obvious you’re both taken, so it’s not like it can be anything other than a joke, but you keep flirting with me and… and it’s only because you know it bothers me. Both of you do it! Because you know that I…” You were too embarrassed to vocalize your feelings, embarrassed of how you felt. How you let your feelings go unchecked to get to the point where it would bother you this badly. You hadn’t wanted to call out Sorbet too and risk damaging your new friendship, but he wasn’t completely innocent and you couldn’t stop yourself. “Maybe you don’t mean it, but… sometimes it feels like you two are leading me on…”

 

You felt embarrassed making a big deal about it, even though you felt like you were justified. You were anxious about the idea of them dismissing you or even worse, mocking you for being naive. It was on you, right, for secretly hoping there was something sincere in that teasing? The both of them looked at each other, then Sorbet turned back to you. He looked genuinely sorry.

 

“We don’t mean to-” Sorbet started, but you cut him off.

 

“He does,” you said, pointing at Gelato, who flinched when your harsh eyes were looking back in his direction.

 

“I’m not trying to lead you on! I was just trying to…” Gelato began, already frustrated but getting more so when he didn’t have an excuse ready. “I didn’t think that…” That sentence starter also yielded no results. You became more frustrated yourself.

 

“Well?” you asked.

 

“Well what ?” Gelato grumbled, your tone making him defensive. “What should I say?”

 

Sorry ?” you said incredulously.

 

Gelato knew you were right, and honestly he really wanted to say it. But he was too conceited. Sorbet put his hand on Gelato’s shoulder and gave him a stern look, but Gelato was too frustrated at his own inability to not be a freak about this that not even his boyfriend could calm him down. “What?” he shot at Sorbet. “You don’t tease them just because it’s funny, right? Of course not. You’re the gentleman.”

 

Sorbet looked taken aback by the unnecessary venom dripping from Gelato’s words. Gelato immediately regretted it, but he was working himself up just as much as you were and it was hard to stop the momentum.

 

Gelato looked back to you. “When Sorbet walked me to our room that night, his hands were shaking. Shaking. He’s a sniper, his hands don’t shake,” Gelato said, clutching his face with a desperate look in his eyes. “And then! He won’t tell me why! Says I can ask you if I want to know, but he won’t tell me. Earlier that day I tell him I have a nasty plan to get rid of you, and he knows it’s stupid, because of course it’s stupid, we both know it, but he supports me. He always does,” Gelato said, his voice cracking a bit. “Then next thing I know he’s petting your head?”

 

Sorbet glared at him. “Gelato,” he warned. But Gelato continued.

 

“But we’ve all already hashed this shit out, right? Boo hoo, poor Gelato. You’re here, you’re staying, everyone loves you, I know that. I know that! I want to hate you but I can’t, not even a little bit. My boyfriend’s got butterflies in his stomach at the thought of you, but he won’t say it. It rots my teeth just thinking about how cute my little Sorbet looks when he talks about you. I want to feel it too, this overwhelming urge to love you like everyone else does. But… fuck, you’re just porcelain levels of fragile, aren’t you? I want to let myself like you and be done with it, but all I can think about is you dying. This self defense shit? Why are we kidding ourselves? If the guy has a gun what good does this do?” Gelato asked, frantically burying his fingers in his hair.

 

“If you think this is pointless, why are you here?” you asked him, exasperated.

 

“Same reason he is!” Gelato said, his arm sweeping to gesture at Sorbet. “The guilt! The fear! I’m here for me, he’s here for himself, so we can sleep better at night at the thought of you walking home in the dark. Because! Because you can’t even shoot a gun! Of course I think you’re cute, of course I can’t hate you,” he spat. “Because you’re a dweeby college kid without a stand who’s giving up on a normal life for a bunch of creeps! Just like-” He turned to look at Sorbet dead in the eyes, and he finally broke, letting out a choked sob as tears welled up in his eyes. “Just like… you did…”

 

You had never seen Gelato cry before. A part of you thought you never would. Sorbet’s hard eyes softened for a moment as he was caught between comforting Gelato and berating him. He was about to reach for him when Gelato held up his hand to stop him, tossing his head to gesture in your direction. Sorbet looked to you, and you had an expression that was a mix of many conflicting emotions. You looked at Sorbet, your eyes wide and distraught. He checked in with you first and made sure you were okay before he returned to Gelato, wrapping his arms around him.

 

“I am doing this because I’m afraid. But not because I feel guilty. Not anymore,” Sorbet said, addressing both of you, before turning to look at Gelato. “This is worth it to them. They’re not shackled to La Squadra. They want to be here. And now I trust that the others aren’t taking this lightly either. I know you’d do the same for anyone else in our family. I didn’t give up anything that wasn’t worth it, Gelato. Certainly not a shitty desk job.”

 

Sorbet turned to talk directly to you, leaning over and placing both of his hands on your shoulders. “Still, at the end of the day, you aren’t me. You’re never going to kill a man on the orders of some mystery Boss with delusions of grandeur as long as I’m still living. Capo's highest priority is keeping your identity secret from Passione, and I trust my Capo’s word as well as his competence,” he said, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. 

 

You looked over at Gelato and you barely recognized him. His frantic energy, his aura of mischief and self-satisfied smugness, his constant smirking and laughing… you saw no hint of any of it. He looked exhausted and miserable. He was at least able to manage a small smile when he saw you looking at him.

 

“I’m sorry,” Gelato said, plain and unguarded. “You’re really sweet. I wasn’t trying to upset you... well, not this time at least,” he added with a sigh. “I obviously was to begin with, because I thought it was funny, which is why I do most of the shit I do. Then I wanted to try actually being decent to you, but I couldn’t stop, and… I don’t know why? But today I wasn’t trying to fuck with you. At that moment I really could only think about how cute you looked. Of course I should have thought about how you’d take that, especially since up until that point I had never done anything but fuck with you. I’m sorry. For everything. And because I never said it, I’m sorry for trying to get rid of you by showing you my stand and shit... I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he finished, his head propped up in his palm as he studied your expression.

 

His walls laid in rubble. He finally apologized to you for his biggest transgression against you, revealing the existence of stands in some dumb effort to get Risotto to excommunicate you. You thought you’d have to go the rest of your life without him acknowledging how that was fucked up of him. But his apology for teasing you hit harder, because it meant that he was acknowledging your feelings as real and valuable and not just a source of entertainment. “I forgive you,” you said, smiling at him. His miserable aura melted away immediately and he smiled back, before turning to Sorbet to apologize to him as well.

 

You were very overwhelmed and still processing everything that the both of them had said. Did Sorbet actually like you, or was that just Gelato’s reading of the situation? If Sorbet did like you, was Gelato supporting his boyfriend’s feelings? Or was he only supportive insofar as Sorbet’s affection for you was platonic? Did Gelato actually like you, or was his apparently genuine flirting today just carried over from old habits he was trying to break? Things seemed to be winding down, and you didn’t want to ramp them up again; these constant emotional confrontations with the two of them always left you exhausted. Hopefully you would have many more open and honest conversations with the both of them.

 

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” you said to Gelato.

 

Gelato gave a strained laugh. “Don’t apologize to me, what the fuck.”

 

“Accept the apology or I’ll push you again,” you said, trying your best to deadpan it while a smile twitched on your lips. He rolled his eyes and said not to worry about it. “Good,” you said, and you reached to put your hand on his knee. It was the first time you had initiated physical contact with him.

 

He gave a tired chuckle. “Why don’t you just end it already? Make it a clean shot. Don’t let me suffer too much,” Gelato said, spreading his arms out. His normally bright red cheeks looked just a shade darker.

 

“Shut up,” you said, embracing Gelato for the first time since you’d met him. He wrapped his arms around you awkwardly, giving your back a few clumsy pats for some kind of comedic effect. You just scoffed and held him tighter before he had no choice but to finally lean into the hug as well.

Chapter 18: Mirab, With Sails Unfurled

Summary:

Surprise Mafia Inspection™!? Also, everyone's favorite Part 5 character makes a cameo.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Now that you considered Gelato a friend you felt it was finally time to address the last looming complication plaguing the microcosm of La Squadra. You and Gelato sat in two chairs opposite of Risotto Nero’s desk in his downstairs office. Even after things between Gelato and the rest of his teammates had slowly gone back to normal, Risotto’s cold attitude towards Gelato had not changed.

 

“So, that’s why we’re friends now, and everything is fine, so you don’t have to be mad at Gelato anymore,” you finished, and to punctuate the statement you and Gelato leaned to the side in your chairs and slung your arms around each other’s shoulders while you both shot Risotto big goofy grins.

 

“I’m a changed man, Rizzie. My days as a villainous scoundrel are over,” Gelato said playfully.

 

“Should I take that as your resignation?” Risotto asked, emotionless as ever. But you and Gelato just laughed. It was easier for you now to tell when Risotto was trying to be funny.

 

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Gelato said, removing his arm from you to lean over Risotto’s desk, propping his head up with both hands and scattering some of Risotto’s paperwork in the process. If it annoyed Risotto he didn’t show it. “But really Capo, I’m very sorry. That’s a new word I learned how to use recently, ‘sorry .’ You say it when you feel bad about something and want to let the other person know how much you regret it.”

 

“Gelato,” you said, nudging him a bit with your elbow.

 

“I really mean it,” Gelato continued after shooting a glance back in your direction. “I went against your authority as my Capo and your trust in me as your friend. And even worse, I broke your picture frame.”

 

That got a response from Risotto, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t mention it,” he huffed out.

 

“Does that mean we’re all copacetic, Capo? Capo-cetic?” Gelato asked with a snicker. Risotto was about to respond but you interrupted.

 

“Wait,” you said. “You too.”

 

Risotto raised an eyebrow at you. You nudged your head in Gelato’s direction and then brought a hand up to your throat and pantomimed a choking motion. “Really?” he said under his breath, and you felt he was very close to letting out a groan. You nodded. He looked Gelato dead in the eyes and took another deep breath to steel himself. “I’m sorry for using Metallica on you. There were other ways to discipline insubordination that wouldn’t have resulted in your injury. I let my anger cloud my judgment,” he said to Gelato, before turning back to you. “Is that okay?” he asked.

 

“You’re apologizing to him, not me!” you said. Sheesh.

 

“Apology accepted Rizzie, I’m just glad we can finally be a family again,” Gelato said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. Risotto leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, covering his face with his hand. He always had his hands full with Gelato, but he had no idea how he was going to cope now that he had you as a weapon in his arsenal. Risotto had trouble saying no to you, and Gelato knew it.

 

“Great!” you said, placing one hand on each of theirs. “I’m glad I could help!””

 

Gelato went on a few more melodramatic tangents while Risotto sat there and begged him to leave with his eyes. Eventually the topic landed back on the photo of his cousin that was upstairs in his room. Gelato said Risotto should show it to you since the three of you were getting all sappy. Risotto immediately declined, but the curiosity in your eyes weakened his resolve. Ever since you heard that Risotto saw something of his cousin in you, you had been very eager to learn more about him. However, Risotto still didn’t know you had overheard him and Gelato that night, and so you had kept your knowledge secret.

 

But now that Gelato had brought it up himself you could finally ask. Risotto sighed and acquiesced, leaving you and Gelato in the office while he went upstairs to grab the photo.

 

“His stand’s name is Metallica? ” you asked when Risotto’s footsteps were too quiet to hear.

 

“I know, right?” Gelato snickered.

 

When he came back into the office a minute or so later he was staring down at the picture frame wistfully. You weren’t sure if Gelato had actually bought him that new frame like he joked he would, but he seemed like the kind of man who would commit one hundred percent to his goofs. Your picture frame musings were interrupted when you saw Risotto looking at you.

 

“I know it’s not obvious from this picture, but you really do remind me of him,” Risotto said, tone nostalgic. He handed you the picture frame and you turned it around to take a look for yourself. There were two children, both somewhere in their teens, standing close together with the backdrop of a lush vineyard. The shorter of the two was obviously Risotto, his strange black eyes and ghost white hair sticking out immediately. You looked at the other figure in the picture.

 

“I… don’t really see it?” you said. The guy in the picture looked a bit like you but only in really superficial ways like skin and hair color. The two of you had very different bodies and faces, although that was a given since right now you definitely did not have the body of a young boy right in the middle of puberty.

 

“He’s a pretty schlubby looking kid in this picture, isn’t he?” Risotto said with a sad chuckle. “It’s the eyes,” he clarified. You squinted a bit, but it wasn’t a closeup shot. You supposed you’d take his word for it. “Not just the eye color, but the way your eyes light up when you’re happy… and your smile. It’s the way you talk and hold yourself. He was kind and gentle like you are,” he added. Hearing his reasoning made you feel better about being compared to a boy, so you decided you wouldn’t bring it up. He sounded very vulnerable talking about his cousin. You hummed thoughtfully, turning your attention back to the young Risotto Nero in the photo, clutching his cousin’s arm with a big smile on his face that matched none of the smiles you had seen on the man yourself.

 

You were staring at the picture for a while when all three of you were startled by the sound of hard knocking from elsewhere in the house only barely muffled by the closed door to Risotto’s office. It sounded like it was coming from the front door to the base, down the hall, but you weren’t sure who in La Squadra would need to knock rather than just use their keys. Especially since you were pretty sure everyone was already at the base today…

 

The three of you stood in silence in the office as you listened to the distinctive click-clacking of Prosciutto’s dress shoes as he went to answer the door. You heard a muffled conversation, only catching the words “...let me see if the Capo is in the middle of anything,” as the sound of two sets of footfalls approached the office door. Prosciutto knocked and Risotto asked him what he needed as he shared a glance with Gelato. Prosciutto called from the other side, “Capo, I‘m sorry to bother you, but Pericolo is here and he has requested a private meeting.” His calm and casual voice betraying none of the concern he no doubt had.

 

Everything moved so fast you couldn’t process it, the photograph being taken from your hand, a hand coming down over your mouth to stifle a yelp as you were suddenly pulled to the side, and the sudden darkness as you were dragged into the office’s supply closet. You were pressed up against Gelato, surrounded by shelves of printer paper and boxes of old unsorted files that you could barely see with the only light coming from a crack below the door. Gelato lifted his hand off of your mouth when he was sure you weren’t going to make any more noise and wrapped his arms around you to keep you from backing into a shelf and rustling its contents.

 

Your heart was beating so loud in your chest as you heard the sound of slow footsteps making their way into Risotto’s office. It was the Surprise Mafia Inspection you had always feared.

 

“Pericolo,” Risotto said, voice calm and monotone. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His voice did not, however, attempt to hide that this was not a pleasure in the slightest.

 

“Risotto Nero. It’s been a while,” the voice of an elderly man responded, cheerful despite the hostility from Risotto. “I apologize for turning up unannounced.”

 

“The Boss isn’t supposed to send anyone to my base without informing me first,” Risotto replied. Your head was resting on Gelato’s shoulder as he cupped the back of your head with his hand, his other hand still wrapped around your waist. You breathed in and out slowly to try to quiet your pounding heart.

 

“He thought you’d say as much. I’m terribly sorry about it myself. He did tell me to say, though, that this house belongs to him and it is by his grace and generosity you utilize it for your operations,” Pericolo said. 

 

“He knows I actually live here. This is more than just a place I conduct meetings; I’m entitled to privacy in my own home. I’m always told when someone is coming by,” Risotto warned. 

 

“I’m sure the Boss does not want to make a habit of unannounced visits like this,” Pericolo replied.

 

“I take it I’m not going to like what I hear,” Risotto said. You were caught halfway between dissociation, the whole conversation nothing but white noise, and hyper-awareness. Every word exchanged between them was heard with such clarity, down to the tiniest inflection, but not processed. It was just sound.

 

“The Boss has drawn up some new territory borders that he wants you to look over.” None of this meant anything to you, but you were brought back into your own body for a moment when Gelato’s grip tightened on you and he strained his neck to listen closer. There was the sound of small locks, on a briefcase perhaps, being fiddled with. Paper sliding on the desk.

 

Then the loudest silence. 

 

“You’re taking this better than he thought you would,” Pericolo finally said.

 

“He can’t be fucking serious with this,” Risotto hissed out, tremendous effort being exerted to keep his emotions in check. For your sake, most likely.

 

“I’m afraid so. Dealing with the local businesses isn’t exactly your area of expertise anyway, correct? There are other teams who are more than happy to take the extra work off your hands.” Your mind wandered in the way it only could in the height of anxiety, when the situation at hand begins to slip away. You tried to latch on to the words to ground you, but they were nothing. You focused on Gelato.

 

When you had buried your face in Sorbet’s chest after you heard that terrible gunshot you were grounded by the smell of his cologne. Gelato’s coat smelled earthy and a little dusty. Your height was closer to his than the others, and when he exhaled there was the noxious scent of mint and something more chemical that matched the too-white color of his teeth in its intensity. You latched on to that.

 

“And what about this,” Risotto said, slamming down another piece of paper. “Are there other teams more than happy to take the extra pay out of our hands too? What are these new rates? Is this a joke?”

 

Your mind drifted and followed strange tangents to distract you. It was so dark and you were pressed so close to Gelato. Is this what a game of seven minutes in heaven would have been like high school, if you had ever actually gone to a party? If you weren’t scared of the idea of being grouped in with either the guys or the girls when it came time to spin the bottle, would you have done something like this? Would your first kiss have been in a closet, like this one?

 

“Temporary pay cuts,” Pericolo replied. “The Boss is moving assets around. I wouldn’t worry too much, those rates shouldn’t last long.”

 

“That’s what he said last year,” Risotto sneered.

 

It was almost summer. You had a lot of work and studying to get through as the end of the school year drew closer. Part of you had been imagining all the fun things you wanted to do with your friends with an entirely open schedule. The beach and pool weren’t your favorite places to hang out since you tended to keep your body pretty covered up, but you could see yourself soaking in the sun and dipping your toes in the water. You wanted to build a sandcastle with Pesci, or walk along the boardwalk with Formaggio.

 

You wanted to eat ice cream with Sorbet and Gelato, making silly jokes about their names until they kissed you to make you stop.

 

“And I still have the scar to prove it,” Pericolo said with an awkward chuckle. He knew he had overstayed his welcome. “Your restraint is appreciated. It’s hard for an old man like me to keep up nowadays, even without injury.”

 

But your lease on your student apartment would be up once classes were over, and you knew your parents were expecting you to fly back home without a place to stay. Last year this hadn’t been an issue for you since you had gone out of your way to sign up for summer classes and stay in the on campus dormitories. It had been the perfect excuse to not see your parents. You and Pesci had made the most of that summer, and you imagined how much better this summer could be now that you were really, truly a part of this family.

 

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

 

Would Risotto ever accept a request to spend the summer in his home? Could you even ask at this point, with summer so close and your parents already expecting you? Would he have said yes, if only not for today? You barely registered the sound of a polite and formal goodbye as slow footsteps made their way out of the office. You heard the front door close, and then silence for what felt like forever until the light suddenly streaming into the closet blinded you.

 

“He’s gone,” Risotto said. You could tell he was concerned from the expression he was giving you, but it was hard for him to keep the indignation out of his voice.

 

Gelato led you out of the closet with his hand on your shoulder, then turned to study your blank expression. “You okay there, space cadet?” he asked, waving his hand in front of your eyes when you didn’t respond.

 

“Huh? Yeah…” you muttered, back to reality. Risotto and Gelato both looked slightly relieved by that, but the tension in the room was still suffocating. You heard the sound of many footsteps rushing through the house and Prosciutto threw the office door open. Everyone’s eyes on you and a round of concerned questioning from the doorway made you feel dizzy.

 

Pesci pushed his way through everyone and stood in front of Prosciutto, turning to address the men. “Guys, you’re going to overwhelm them. The last thing they need is everyone talking at once,” Pesci reprimanded. Everyone quieted down pretty quick after that. Thank you Pesci, for knowing exactly what you needed.

 

“So…” Ghiaccio said, his eyes on Risotto this time. “What the fuck was that about?”

 

Gelato left your side and went over to the desk, his eyes scanning the paperwork. Gelato already had an idea of why Pericolo was here, but actually seeing the numbers the Boss had dared to propose as pay had him seething. “He can’t fucking do this shit again,” he said, crumpling the offending document into a dense paper ball.

 

“Can we not talk about this now?” Risotto said sternly, and Gelato’s knuckles were turning white from how hard of fists he was making to keep himself quiet. Now was definitely ‘business time’, and you weren’t allowed over for business time.

 

“What if he sees me on the way out?” your voice managed to croak. Risotto looked at you then turned back to point at Illuso.

 

“You’ll take them to their car through the mirror world,” Risotto said.

 

“Yes Capo,” Illuso replied. He looked a little disappointed to miss out on the initial briefing, but your safety was worth it. After taking a few more moments to collect yourself, you followed Illuso out of the office and into the common area.

 

“It’ll feel strange at first, but I promise it won’t hurt,” Illuso said. “You can close your eyes if the sight of it bothers you.” You shook your head, you had seen him use it a few times now and you were used to the way his body would fracture at the edges when he went between worlds. But once your body started fracturing as he took you in, you did end up closing your eyes tight. Getting used to seeing it on yourself would be its own process.

 

When you opened your eyes you were in an eerily quiet and uncannily flipped version of the base. It was disorienting at best and nauseating at worst. But it was nothing compared to how you felt looking down at your body.

 

“I… I’m backwards?” you asked, looking at both of your hands. From the subtle misplaced freckles to the way that your fingernails were cut, you barely recognized your arms. “Oh fuck, holy shit,” you said, freaking out a little more. “My organs are flipped too, aren’t they?” You put your hand over your beating heart which now favored the right side of your body instead of the left. “How do you live like this!?”

 

Illuso chuckled at your reaction, although he did put his hand on your shoulder to calm you down. “You get used to it,” he said.

 

“I hope not!” you said back, taking a deep breath to calm down. You had been vaguely unsettled by Pericolo’s visit and being stuck in a small dark and very cramped closet, but being in the mirror world was finally allowing you to process just how much it had affected you.

 

You and Illuso exited the reflected base and he took you through the backstreets that you always used to travel between the base and where you parked your car. When you had first started coming by you had been given a specific procedure for entering the premises. You would park your car in an area with higher residential traffic and navigate a series of side alleys so no one would ever see you walk directly up to the base’s entrance. Often at the beginning you’d be escorted by one of La Squadra, but you knew the way by heart now. It felt weird navigating in reverse, and you almost made a few wrong turns out of habit before Illuso corrected your course.

 

“That almost never happens,” Illuso told you, noticing how upset and quiet you were.

 

“I get that, but it’s still going to change things,” you replied. Illuso could practically always tell when you had something on your mind, and he was usually pretty good at guessing what it was too. As annoying as it could be, it made it easier to speak plainly about your problems when you were with him.

 

“Any changes can only benefit you. Today just pointed out an oversight. Maybe Capo will install a security camera system, huh?” Illuso said. “Or at least stock the supply closet with food and air conditioning if it’s going to be your new hang out spot.”

 

You laughed a little. “It was pretty stuffy in there.”

 

Illuso gave a thoughtful hum, then smirked. “Pressed up against Gelato, I bet.”

 

You couldn’t even work up the energy to be embarrassed. “Hm,” you said with a shrug.

 

Illuso frowned. “I apologize. He only had your safety in mind. He did exactly what he should have done.”

 

You were quiet for a moment before you said, “Other things are going to change, though. Risotto is very angry.”

 

“What did you hear?” Illuso asked, eyes lighting up at the chance to gain new information.

 

“They’re cutting your territory… and your pay,” you said, hesitant. If this news upset Illuso he was kind enough not to show it in front of you.

 

When the two of you exited an alley back onto the main street you were struck by just how empty it was. There was usually so much activity here, but the world before you sat silent, frozen in time. Everything was filled to the brim with the signs of life with no actual life to fill it. Cars with no one to drive them, buildings with no one to live in. There were no bugs, no birds, to fill the empty air with sound. If it wasn’t for the general unease the mirror world exuded, you supposed it might be nice to have a place all to yourself like this. 

 

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” you asked.

 

Illuso nodded. “It’s not like I have a life outside La Squadra. The real world might as well be this for me, just louder.” 

 

You gave another ‘hm’ and looked at him. “I can understand that.”

 

“I know,” Illuso said. “We’re all you have, outside of Chompsky, right? You love us.” He placed his hand on your shoulder. “We love you.”

 

You weren’t surprised by the idea that Illuso might have overheard your conversation with Sorbet, since it was Sorbet himself who suggested that Illuso would be sent to spy. He never brought it up before, but you supposed you were glad he chose to now. It eased your fears of being alone in the wake of all this.

 

“What did you hear?” you asked.

 

“Most of it,” Illuso replied. “Saw the nasty stuff in Capo's room, too. When Risotto caught me watching, he had me tend to the wound.” You remembered the makeshift bandage on Gelato’s throat.

 

You looked thoughtful for a moment. “Were you the one who told Gelato that me and Sorbet were spying on him?” you asked, a mystery finally resolved in your mind.

 

“I felt it was fair,” Illuso said. “I hope you’re not upset by that.”

 

“Of all the things I have to be upset about I really couldn’t care less about that right now,” you said with a laugh. You suddenly frowned and thought back to something else he just said. “I am upset about you insinuating that I am a fan of Chompsky's work,” you said.

 

Illuso just laughed and ruffled your hair. “See, I knew you’d be fine. You’re resilient,” he said with a smirk. You stuck out your tongue, but you couldn’t help laughing too.

 

Illuso finally led you up to your car, and you felt weird getting in on what would normally be the passenger’s side. Illuso checked your rearview mirror and your side mirrors and said that everything looked clear on the other side, and he’d send you back over. He said goodbye and you closed the door and your eyes as you felt weird and tingly all over. When you opened your eyes again you were back in your normal car and Illuso was gone.

 

You just sat there for a while, lost in your thoughts, before you finally started your engine and drove off.

Notes:

Everyone's favorite Part 5 character, Pericolo. Also a little bit of Illuso since I don't give him enough love.

Chapter 19: Darmok on the Ocean

Summary:

It's been a bit lonely for you with La Squadra base off limits.

Notes:

Reader has a negative relationship with their parents that isn't "abusive" but is complicated in a way I'm sure most trans people get. The parents are a plot point but will never show up directly in the fic and Reader's relationship with them isn't ultimately super important to the fic.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

You hadn’t tried reaching out to any of them for a couple days. You’d hoped one of them would get in contact with you when things had settled down, but no messages came your way. The time was filled with school work and lots of waiting until you couldn’t take it anymore and had to call up Pesci.

 

“Hey,” he greeted you. His voice sounded exhausted.

 

“Hey Pesci. I’m sorry, if it’s not a good time…” you said, concerned.

 

“No, no. I was hoping to hear from you soon. Things are pretty…” he began, pausing for a moment. “Bad… around here. If you’re asking to come over, uh… it’s probably not a great idea, if you want my opinion.”

 

“Ah. I understand… I just… wanted to hear an update from you, if nothing else,” you said, sinking into your bed with a big frown.

 

“Oh, if you still want to hang out though… I could meet up with you somewhere else. I could… well, I could honestly really use it,” he said, and your mood instantly lifted.

 

“Oh! Yeah!” you said, your eagerness very apparent. “I’d really like that! It’s been a while since the two of us have gone somewhere.”

 

You made plans and you said you’d see him soon as you went to go get ready.






“Everyone is taking it really bad,” Pesci said, sipping his glass of milk. He was taking his time with his food which he pecked at periodically every now and again. It was hard for him to find food that agreed with him when you went out to eat, but this diner had been a favorite spot for the both of you for a long time. He was a slow eater in general but he always ate slower when something was weighing on his mind. “I’m sure they all want to see you. I just don’t think they want you to see them right now.”

 

It didn’t come up often around you, but it didn’t need to for you to know that money was a sore subject with La Squadra. The loss of territory was a new level of insult from the Boss, and you knew you were better off keeping your distance until things calmed down.

 

“What about you?” you asked.

 

“This kind of stuff doesn’t bug me as much as it bugs them,” Pesci said, shrugging. “I mean, it does bug me of course. It’s the kind of conflict I really hate, and I don’t think I’m good at coming up with solutions for it, so I sit back and let them handle it.” He took another bite of his meal which had grown cold at this point. He didn’t seem to mind too much.

 

“Why can’t you guys be… I don’t know… a circus troupe or something?” you asked, pushing the empty plate of a small dessert you had ordered to the side before propping your head up with your hands, elbows on the table.

 

“That’s a new one,” Pesci said with an awkward laugh.

 

“Yeah… Ghiaccio can do, like… acrobatics and shit? Illuso can be a magician… you can be… uh…”

 

“A clown?” Pesci asked, sipping his milk.

 

“Nooo… don’t say that,” you said, frowning. He said it affably enough, but you still hated it when he said anything self-deprecating. “Maggi would make a better clown anyway.” 

 

“His Feet are too Little,” Pesci said, almost choking on his milk from how funny he thought it was. You didn’t laugh but you did smile at how cute Pesci looked whenever he amused himself.

 

“Is Maggi doing okay?” you asked after he had calmed down.

 

“As okay as he can be… which is not very okay. He misses you though,” Pesci said. “They all do.” You hummed thoughtfully. Pesci looked deep into his glass of milk before he added, “I don’t know if I should… bring it up, but…”

 

“Hm?” you asked, encouraging him to continue.

 

“I thought for sure you two were going to… you know… get together…” he said, shrugging.

 

“It’s all very complicated,” you said, mirroring his shrug back at him. “I think he’s focusing on himself right now.”

 

“It wouldn’t be… weird… if….” Pesci began, trailing off as his confidence wavered.

 

“If?” you asked.

 

“If, obviously when he’s… got a better idea of things… and it works out right… and he’s open to it at that point... if I…” he continued, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

 

“You’d want to ask him out?” you guessed, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

 

Pesci’s face was beet red. “I mean! I don’t know, maybe? I know he doesn’t like guys… but he also knows I’m not a guy one hundred percent anymore, even if maybe there’s part of me that could still be a little bit a guy? But I still don’t know! So I don’t know how he’d feel! Plus, we’ve only just become good friends recently, and I don’t want to... be weird!” Pesci said, his words coming out fast and nervous. 

 

You waited for him to get all his feelings out, nodding along to show you were listening. He told you how he thought you and Formaggio would make a good couple and he wanted to support that, but ever since he had become good friends with the man Pesci had started developing something of a small crush. He didn’t want to get in between the two of you if there was still something there, but you let him know that at the moment you were just friends with him.

 

“I don’t know where his journey is going to lead him,” you said, “but I’m sure it wouldn’t ruin your friendship if you were to ask. If he says no, then he says no. I mean, I’d wait before you approach him, since I still think he’s processing a lot of stuff…”

 

“Yeah, I know, I was just… talking about the hypothetical,” Pesci said, drumming his fingers on the table.

 

“I know,” you assured him. “But I think you should go for it if it does end up working out that way. You two are such good friends, I think it would be cute.”

 

Pesci gave a nervous smile at that. “You really think we’d be cute together?”

 

“Oh yeah, totally,” you said, then your mind started wandering back to the night you spent at Formaggio’s apartment. “But… if you two did get together… would you still let me cuddle up to the both of you?” You tended to be pretty physically affectionate with Pesci, maybe not to the degree you were with Formaggio now, but you loved expressing your fondness like that. Your question was purely hypothetical as well, but the thought of it made you smile.

 

“You’d still want to?” Pesci asked with a skeptical chuckle.

 

“Oh, I’d love that… I love my two best friends so much… I love the idea of being squished between two cute people and feeling safe and cozy...“ you said absentmindedly. When you realized that you had said the last bit out loud your hand came up to your mouth as you felt your cheeks heat up.

 

Pesci raised an eyebrow, taken aback. “Is that why…” he began, his look a mix between something teasing and hesitant. “...You like Sorbet and Gelato?”

 

Your cheeks were suddenly on fire as you hid your face in your arms, slumped over the table. “Aaa! Who said I liked them? I don’t like them!” you protested, and Pesci could only give an apologetic chuckle as he patted your head. “You’re supposed to be the one who’s nice to me, Pesci!”

 

“Sorry,” Pesci said, amusement still cutting through his concern. “My mistake.”






When your outing with Pesci was over you said your goodbyes. Pesci assured you that he would let you know as soon as things were normal again, or at least as normal as they could be. The first thing you did when you got home was just lie on your bed and sort through your thoughts. You had a lot on your mind.

 

You thought back to being crammed in that closet, pressed up against Gelato, and how you had been pretty composed about it at the time since you were dissociating out of your fucking mind. The tone of the situation hadn’t allowed for any levity, otherwise he would have definitely teased you. Or, well, you guess he actually wouldn’t have. He wasn’t doing that anymore.

 

But was he thinking about it? Or was he just focused on staying still, keeping you safe, listening in on Risotto and Pericolo? You were pressed so close to him you could feel his body under his thick coat; the soft give of his stomach and how boney he was absolutely everywhere else. His arms were wrapped around you protectively and although you were completely detached from your fear in your stupor you were able to feel the overwhelming sense of safety cut through as something physical and tangible. You wouldn’t have come out of that closet as relatively unscathed as you had if you were in there alone.

 

You were close enough to feel every noxious mouthwash scented breath he took. Did he taste like alcohol and spearmint? Would the lingering taste of bleach have seeped into his ostentatious smile? You wondered if his kisses would burn your lips.

 

Pesci was right, like Formaggio had been right. You really liked Sorbet and Gelato. You still stood by your decision to assert your boundaries with them, knowing it was worth it to spare yourself the heartache in the long run. That was, unless, they were actually interested in you and you had given them the impression you didn’t want to reciprocate anything. ‘It rots my teeth just thinking about how cute my little Sorbet looks when he talks about you.’ Gelato’s words echoed in your mind, although you still weren’t sure how to take them. You could get pretty animated yourself when you talked about how much you loved any of your friends. Also his teeth looked like they had survived very much unrotted.

 

God, you had to stop thinking about his teeth.

 

You sat up in your bed and shook the thoughts from your head. You’d rather just talk to Gelato and Sorbet about it instead of agonizing over the possibilities. It was time to do something else for now. You had already done most of your school work so you fell back into your old habits from before you’d spend your free time with La Squadra: you wasted time online. You had wasted a lot of time doing nothing in particular before you had your friends. It was nostalgic in a sad kind of way, but also mind numbing which is what you needed.

 

This was probably what your summer vacation was going to look like. You’d stay in touch with everyone, of course, but you could see yourself spending long stretches of time in your childhood room on your computer with the door shut to ward off interactions with your parents. A lot of emotional energy would go into the balancing act of avoiding them and giving them enough of your attention to satisfy them before avoiding them again.

 

You didn’t want to leave Naples. The thought made you sick. Your relationship with your parents was more complicated than it was anything else, with the ‘transgender issue’ being a roadblock in what may have otherwise been a very pleasant rapport. There were many layers to your feelings about them and it was easier when they just faded from your conscious mind. You were a real person when you lived out here. You didn’t want to hear your deadname ‘accidentally’ slip from their mouths ever ever again.

 

Instead of emptying your mind of thoughts about Sorbet and Gelato you had made yourself think about your parents again. And those thoughts were much harder to get rid of.

 

You let out a big groan and pulled out your phone to acknowledge something big you had been putting off for almost a week now. There was one unread message you had made sure not to open, but you had no more excuses to put it off. You finally read it over and then texted your mother back, apologizing for not replying since school was so busy and you were studying so hard! You thanked her for checking in with you, and told her not to worry. Things were great and your grades were looking good!

 

She texted back almost immediately. You were really hoping she wouldn’t so you could delay any actual conversation with her indefinitely. When she had first asked for you to come home this summer you had given a noncommittal answer, saying some friends had asked if you wanted to stay with them and you were still mulling the idea over. But she needed an answer now, so she could plan your flight. You still didn’t have an answer so you said nothing, burying your face in your pillow.

 

There was no way at this point you were going to ask Risotto if you could live at his base for the entirety of summer. Even if he said yes you’d feel terrible since you should have asked ages ago. You weren’t even hanging out at the base as part of your regular day to day routine right now!

 

Eventually your mom called you instead, and you’d never hear the end of it if you let her go to voicemail when she knew you were free to talk. You picked up the phone and answered it. “Hey mom,” you said, forcing a friendly tone as you flopped back down and shut your eyes tight.

Notes:

This chapter is a bit boring because it's setup for some REALLY BIG SHIT that is going to happen in the next chapter! :^)

Chapter 20: Zinda, His Eyes Red

Summary:

La Squadra is attacked by an enemy stand.

Chapter Text

You knocked at the door to the La Squadra base and it swung open almost immediately. Suddenly a pair of arms were pulling you into a bear hug that squeezed all the air from your lungs.

 

“Maggi- aah! I missed you too but-!” you choked out. He dropped you and you stumbled forward a bit, practically falling over before he put both of his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

 

“You’ve finally returned home... How many years has it been since I’ve last laid eyes on you?” Formaggio said with all of the emotion of someone who had been waiting for a war to end, despite his goofy smile.

 

You rubbed your side over your ribs. “It’s been a little under two weeks,” you wheezed.

 

“Pesci got to see you, but you didn’t even think to call me?” he asked with a pout.

 

“Should I have?” you asked, stepping into the base.

 

His immediate instinct was to say yes, but he paused and scratched the back of his head. “No, probably not. I’d hate for you to see me when I’m....” he trailed off.

 

“...Cranky?” you asked with a playful smile.

 

“Ehhh… on edge,” Formaggio said indignantly. “I don’t get cranky.”

 

“Sounds like something a cranky person would say,” you said, sticking out your tongue and laughing in the back of your throat. When Formaggio moved to put you in a headlock you yelped and moved to duck behind the nearest person you could find.

 

Prosciutto saw you approaching him in the common room and he gently called out your name. “It’s nice to see you- oh,” Prosciutto started, interrupted when you moved behind him, peeking your head back around to look at Formaggio. Prosciutto turned to look down at you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“Prosciutto, save me,” you said, and Prosciutto turned to glare at Formaggio. He stopped in his tracks and muttered under his breath how of course you’d find Prosciutto first. There wasn’t anyone else that would have been able to deter his shenanigans, sans the Capo himself.

 

Prosciutto brought his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes tight. “Can we not do this? I still have a headache.”

 

You emerged from behind him and turned to face him properly, awkwardly laughing a bit. “Sorry… “ Doing anything to make Prosciutto annoyed with you always made you sad, but the feeling subsided when he opened his eyes and gave you a small smile.

 

“It is nice to see you again. It’s not the same without you,” Prosciutto said, placing his hand on your shoulder. That was probably one of the nicest things he had ever said to you. “If we’re a bit testy don’t take it personally,” he added, giving your shoulder a pat before walking past you.

 

Everyone seemed tired more than anything as you made your rounds, but they were all glad to see you back. No one brought up any details on what had been happening during your absence and you of course didn’t want to bring it up. If they invited you over today it was because they didn’t want to think about it right now.

 

You were catching up Ghiaccio, Illuso, Formaggio, and Pesci on your life over the past week and a half when you offhandedly mentioned that the school year was almost over and you would be heading back home for the summer.

 

“What!?” Ghiaccio interrupted. “You never said anything about that.”

 

“Well, I wasn’t sure I was going until now,” you responded with a shrug.

 

“School’s over next week? But you just said the other day that there was still a few months left,” Formaggio whined. “And now you’re leaving Naples? Why didn’t you give me a heads up?”

 

“I said school was over in a couple months a couple months ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Do I need to buy you a calendar or something, Formaggio? Your perception of time seems off.”

 

“They’ve brought up the possibility of flying home before too,” Illuso said. “Do you even listen when people talk?”

 

Formaggio waved his hand dismissively at Illuso. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He turned towards you and frowned. “I was hoping we’d get the chance to hang out on your break.”

 

“I would have liked that, but…” you began. “My parents really want to see me. It’s been almost two years. I… already promised my mom.” Everyone got quiet. They knew things with your parents were complicated and no one was sure what to say. 

 

“You could always…” Formaggio eventually began, but he didn’t commit to finishing. What was he going to do, offer for you to stay over? Even if that was okay with Risotto, which you doubted, he knew you had some sense of obligation to your parents. Formaggio could say ‘screw them’ and say you didn’t owe it to them to come home, but he knew it would upset you. You felt like you owed it to them, and it was a hard feeling to let go.

 

“What if we all went out this weekend, after finals?” Pesci said after another silence to try to ease the tension. “Somewhere really fancy. We could invite Capo and big bro and Sorbet and Gelato… I know they don’t usually go out with us, but I think they’d want to do something special for you too.”

 

You smiled. “I’d really love that.”

 

Pesci went off to run the idea by Prosciutto, and Formaggio and Illuso said they felt pretty confident they could get Risotto on board. You asked them if Sorbet and Gelato were home.

 

“They slept here last night and they haven’t left, so yes,” Illuso said. “Just a heads up though, they’re taking this whole thing the worst of us.” You thanked him for the warning and you headed upstairs.

 

You walked past all the other doors to the last one in the hall and gave a polite knock before stepping as far away from the door as possible and pressing your back to the opposite wall. A few moments later a very haggard looking Gelato opened the door, his eyes distant and irritated. When he finally processed who had knocked though, his body noticeably relaxed.

 

“All I said was don’t press your ear against the door, you dweeb,” Gelato said. The lights were on in his room this time, although you weren’t able to see much past him. He was also fully clothed (not that you had been hoping otherwise or anything).

 

You pressed yourself off the wall and stepped forward, giving him a cheeky smile. “I was being funny,” you said.

 

Gelato chuckled. “Yeah, you’re a real comedian…” he said. 

 

“I heard you were in a bad mood,” you said, tilting your head to the side.

 

Gelato gave a dramatic sigh, wiping his hand down his face. “Is it still a ‘mood’ when it’s become a constant?”

 

You hummed and stood on your tip-toes to get a look behind him. “Is Sorbet here too?”

 

“What do you think?” you heard a deep tired voice rumble from somewhere in the room.

 

“We forgot you were coming over today,” Gelato said. “Otherwise we’d be more presentable.” You studied the dark bags under Gelato’s bloodshot eyes and the way that his brows seemed permanently knitted together even when he tried smiling.

 

“You look plenty presentable,” you said, giving him a big grin and trying to suppress a small laugh.

 

“You’re a regular ray of sunshine,” Gelato said with a fond smile before he rolled his eyes. “Mind turning the brightness down a little? You’re hurting my eyes.”

 

You gave an over-exaggerated frown. “Like this?” you said. That got another chuckle out of him.

 

“Did you need something?” Gelato said, leaning one arm on the doorway, running his free hand through his hair.

 

“I’m going to be leaving really soon,” you said, and Gelato raised an eyebrow. “Just for the summer. I’m flying home,” you clarified. 

 

“No one tells me shit,” Gelato grumbled. You noticed movement coming from behind him and eventually Sorbet lumbered over to drape an arm over Gelato. You gave him a friendly smile and all he could do was nod in return. He looked just as bad as Gelato. He looked a bit worse actually, but only because he was usually the more immaculate of the two and the lack of grooming was more apparent on him. With Sorbet’s hand now in the center of your field of vision you noticed that his nail polish was chipping. You glanced up at Gelato’s hand in his hair and it was the same.

 

“Pesci and the guys said we should all go out together for dinner this weekend as a send-off. I know going out with the others isn’t your thing but…” you said, tapping your fingers together.

 

“We’ll go,” Sorbet said, leaning his head against Gelato’s. Gelato’s hand left his own hair and went to tangle into Sorbet’s instead. You were already getting really excited about going out with everyone and it showed on your face.

 

“God, the second you finally worm your way into my heart you up and bail,” Gelato said with a pout. “Some friend you are.”

 

“Sorbet has my number. You can call me anytime,” you reassured him. “I hope you both will.”

 

Gelato’s hand left Sorbet to ruffle your hair. “Oh, you’ll be sick of the sound of my voice before you’re even a week in,” he said with a smirk.

 

You couldn’t resist. “Who says I’m not sick of it already?” you said, sticking out your tongue. Gelato barked out a laugh and Sorbet gave you a small smile, and you thought they looked noticeably better than they did just moments ago.






You had never stepped foot in a restaurant as fancy as this one before, even before you were a broke college student. The architecture was beautiful but not too gaudy, and you saw a pianist doing a live performance somewhere on the way in. You could still hear the piano faintly from the private table you were seated at. The section you were in was clearly for larger parties and VIP guests, and it allowed for some relative privacy. Although La Squadra no longer controlled the territory where this restaurant resided they had been guests here for many years and it’s not like the owner would turn away his favorite patrons. They were assassins, after all.

 

You were starting to feel a bit guilty since you knew that money was one of the biggest things on La Squadra’s mind right now, but Risotto would have none of that. He made it very clear that everyone was doing this because they wanted to and that it was worth the expense. Knowing that Risotto of all people was excited to spend a night out with his entire family present had driven all doubts from your mind.

 

The menu was almost overwhelming with how ritzy everything sounded. You were sitting next to Sorbet and he had made several suggestions, apparently very familiar with high class cuisine, and his descriptions proved he had quite refined taste. With his spending habits you supposed it shouldn’t surprise you. A lot of his suggestions looked a little too intimidating and adventurous for you, but eventually you settled on something that sounded very appealing to your sensibilities.

 

While Sorbet was helping you decipher the Rosetta Stone that was your menu, Gelato had been chatting with Formaggio and Illuso. They were all laughing at something funny you didn’t quite have the context for, and it made you happy to see Gelato getting along with the others. All the stress of the past few months was completely gone. Things had been so tense between Sorbet and Gelato and everyone else ever since you entered the picture, but now you felt like you were seeing what this family looked like when it was at its best.

 

And you were a part of it. The problems with money and territory were forgotten, if only for tonight. La Squadra had all of summer to take care of their grudge with the Boss without your safety to worry about. Tonight was for you.

 

“I have no idea what I’m eating but I love it,” you said between bites of your food. Sorbet tried pronouncing the name of your meal for probably the third time tonight, enunciating each syllable, but you had already given up.

 

“He tries the same thing with me,” Gelato said with a smirk, leaning forward from his spot next to Sorbet to meet your eyes. “Foie gras, more like foie gross, am I right?”

 

“Pearls before swine,” Prosciutto muttered from across the table. The sad face you gave him at that had Formaggio smacking his shoulder. “Augh-! I wasn’t referring to them .” Gelato mimicked your sad face and you laughed.

 

A little while into your dinner some of you noticed a strange group of men being led to your section of the restaurant. They looked fairly rowdy for VIP guests, and the host escorting them to their tables looked absolutely terrified. Their eccentric fashion choices were reminiscent of the kinds of things your friends wore. It was obvious from the way everyone was tensing up around you that these men were mobsters.

 

“Who are they,” you whispered to Sorbet, suddenly very anxious.

 

“I don’t recognize them, but they’re definitely Passione,” Sorbet whispered back, low and deep.

 

Suddenly Gelato’s hand clutched Sorbet’s shoulder tightly, and you leaned over to see he had a frantic look in his eye. He whispered something you couldn’t hear into Sorbet’s ear and suddenly Sorbet looked just as unnerved, letting a “shit ” slip out under his breath.

 

“Well, well, well,” croaked the most intimidating of the bunch in a mocking singsong, walking up to Risotto. From the way he held himself it was clear he was either the leader or at least the face of their gang. “Risotto Nero… what are you doing in our territory?” When the host realized that the men were no longer following him and had instead decided to engage the other collection of gang members also dining tonight he excused himself and left as quickly as he could.

 

“Having dinner,” Risotto deadpanned, his glare harsh. “I’m allowed to patronize this establishment even if I don’t collect from it, surely?”

 

“Oh, of course, of course! I’m not trying to start anything or nothing. And wow, the whole squad is out tonight? What’s the occasion?”

 

You noticed Ghiaccio on the other side of the table clenching his fists tight, desperate not to start cussing this guy out. Everyone was silent, letting Risotto do the talking. You just tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. The quietest member of the group of men was staring in your direction intently and you just looked down at your food to avoid the gaze. Risotto and the presumed leader exchanged a few hostile and uneasy words, but luckily it seemed like these guys were hungry enough that they didn’t want to antagonize La Squadra further.

 

However the quiet man who you thought was watching you stopped the man who was talking with Risotto and whispered something in his ear, pointing in your direction. You followed the finger and his line of sight and realized it wasn’t you he was interested in, but Gelato. Risotto narrowed his eyes as the two men exchanged a few more words before continuing on to their table. When they had left the area everyone turned to look at Gelato.

 

Gelato just gave everyone one of his big insincere smiles as his eyes darted around the room. “I, uh, don’t mean to dine and dash but I think me and Sorbet are ready to call it quits for the night,” he said. Both him and Sorbet stood up from their chairs.

 

Risotto’s eyebrows furrowed, and he darted his gaze to you before looking back to Gelato. “Do we need to- ?”

 

“Stay here. Finish dinner. Enjoy yourselves,” Gelato said, his voice strained. “It’ll be suspicious if you all leave early,” Gelato added quietly through clenched teeth before gesturing in your direction. “I promise they’re better off right here for now. Those guys aren’t interested in the rest of you.”

 

“Gelato,” Risotto hissed, his anger clear on his face. “What did you do ?”

 

Gelato didn’t answer, instead opting to give your shoulder an apologetic squeeze as he and Sorbet left without another word. Everyone was quiet until Prosciutto scowled, looking more exasperated than you had ever seen him. “I guess we’re staying for dessert then,” he spat.






When you had all finished eating and the bill was paid Risotto stood right by your side the second you got up from your chair and did not leave it. The other mobsters didn’t even spare a glance in your group’s direction as you left. You all exited the restaurant to head to the parking lot a little bit down the block where your cars had been parked. Formaggio had tried cracking a few jokes after Gelato and Sorbet left to lighten the mood, and it surprisingly had an effect, although only a small one. Risotto was obviously still pissed, but he was more collected now that you had all left.

 

“Those guys didn’t even look twice at you,” Formaggio said, trying to ease any lingering fear you might have. He was walking backwards in front of you to face you as he talked. “You looked pretty calm, all things considered. Like a regular stone cold killer. Probably blended right in. I mean, they didn’t look twice at any of us ‘sides Capo and Gelato. Wish they would have seen me as a threat too,” he said, flexing his muscles to try to get a smile out of you. It worked. “But in the end it was probably better they didn’t give the rest of us the time of day.”

 

“Let’s just get you home,” Risotto said with a huff, his hand resting on your shoulder protectively.

 

You were all walking for a while before anyone noticed that anything was off. You should have reached the parking lot by now, but the street stretched onwards and onwards, and all the buildings started to look the same. You swear you had passed by the same yellow car covered in cheeky bumper stickers already.

 

Everyone looked at each other in sudden realization, and it took you a moment before you realized it yourself.

 

This was probably a stand attack.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Formaggio whispered under his breath. Everyone spread out into a lopsided circle of sorts, facing outwards and scanning for danger while you stood in the middle. Everyone was ready to fight, they had probably pulled out their stands although you couldn’t see them, but the seconds turned into minutes and still nothing had happened.

 

“Illuso, take them first through your pocket mirror,” Prosciutto said, sweeping an arm in your direction. “Worry about the rest of us later.” When there was no response everyone looked around.

 

“Where’s Illuso?” Pesci asked, searching frantically.

 

“He was with us when we left,” Formaggio muttered.

 

“When was the last time someone saw him?” Risotto asked.

 

“I… I was talking to him for a little bit,” you stuttered out. “But that was several minutes before we noticed this.”

 

“He poked his head into an alleyway at one point, I think,” Pesci said. “But when I looked back he wasn’t in it. I thought he passed me when I wasn’t watching.”

 

“They didn’t go after Illuso first on accident,” Risotto growled, his fists clenching tighter. “Somehow they knew he was our way out.” Despite the warm night air promising summer on the horizon you were shivering. You all turned when you heard what sounded like a rock hitting a wall coming from one of the many repeating alleyways.

 

“Illuso?” Pesci called out. There was no answer. Pesci looked to Prosciutto who nodded to him. Pesci then made a pantomime of casting a line towards the alleyway; you assumed he was using his stand, Beach Boy.

 

“There’s no one over there…” Pesci said, his brows furrowed in concentration. He maneuvered his hands around as if he was directing the rod’s trajectory. “But there is another person out here, somewhere…”

 

Somewhere ?” Ghiaccio asked indignantly.

 

“That- that’s the thing… I know there’s just one person… but…” Pesci said, thinking of the best way to convey what he was trying to say. “They’re… on the other side of the walls.”

 

“They’re in that building?” you asked, a little confused.

 

“No… they’re… everywhere. They’re on the other side of all the walls,” Pesci said. No one knew what to say to that.

 

“Keep your wits about you,” Prosciutto warned everyone.

 

But still, the minutes crawled by and nothing happened.

 

“If this is supposed to be an attack it fucking sucks,” Formaggio muttered.

 

No one had any idea what the best course of action was, afraid that doing anything was walking right into a trap. But the stand user wasn’t coming to you any time soon. You suggested heading back the way you all came, and Formaggio suggested heading down one of the alleyways. Risotto lifted a manhole cover to see if the layout of the city underground was also affected, but when you all peeked down you knew you weren’t getting out that way. You saw tiny dots of light from a top-down view of a city that was arranged in an unreadable maze that seemed to fold in on itself. It was close enough that you could just barely make out the dots of a group of people surrounding a manhole, but far enough that none of you would survive the fall.

 

“Fucked up,” you mumbled, eyes wide, and Risotto replaced the manhole cover.

 

Eventually Risotto sent Pesci and Prosciutto out to investigate down an alleyway. Pesci’s stand was everyone’s best bet at finding the enemy and pairing him up with someone so they wouldn’t be isolated was a good precaution. Risotto chose an alleyway that clearly had a dead end and everyone watched the two of them as they investigated the walls. Something caught both of their interest as they ducked behind a dumpster.

 

“There’s something here,” Prosciutto called out. You all waited for them to re-emerge but they didn’t.

 

“What is it?” Formaggio yelled back when Prosciutto never followed up. There was no answer. “Shit,” Formaggio said under his breath as he ran into the alleyway.

 

Formaggio ,” Risotto shouted after him, but before he even had the chance to disappear himself or even make it to the dumpster for that matter, the walls on either side of the alley entrance melted together until there was nothing but solid brick.

 

It was just you, Risotto, and Ghiaccio. You clutched onto Risotto’s arm.

 

“Fuck!” Ghiaccio swore, punching at the wall until he hurt himself.

 

“Ghiaccio,” Risotto said to get the other man’s attention. Once he had it he addressed the both of you. “Don’t go in any more alleys. No buildings. Nothing that can be closed off. Let’s head to the roofs.”

 

Risotto reappropriated the manhole cover and stood on it, picking you up in his arms which made you yelp. Soon you were hovering through the air towards the roof of the nearest building. You just clutched Risotto tighter, and when you looked down to see how far you were off the ground you shut your eyes tight. You landed on the roof with no problem. Ghiaccio had made a staircase of sorts out of ice to scale the side of the building and soon the three of you were looking out over the vast expanse of repeating buildings.

 

From this vantage point the three of you could see that the maze you found yourselves in was far from static. You all noticed the space between two buildings far in the distance distorting and changing to fork into another alleyway.

 

“There,” Risotto said, pointing. “We’ll find the enemy stand or one of the others.”

 

“Should I go while you stay here with them?” Ghiaccio asked.

 

Risotto hesitated for a moment before replying. “No. This enemy wants us to split up. The stand probably doesn’t have much power with a range like this. They’re safer with both of us. You and I have the strongest stands on the team.”

 

Ghiaccio looked positively jubilant at Risotto’s praise for his stand and you would have giggled in any other circumstance. With his ego so thoroughly stoked he offered no more suggestions and the three of you were off. Ghiaccio made bridges of ice to skate along the rooftops and Risotto used the manhole cover for his own skating attempt, the low friction of the ice greatly adding to his speed. You just buried your face in his chest and hung on for dear life.

 

When you got to the rooftop bordering the alley you were seeking the three of you peered over the edge. You weren’t sure what you were expecting.

 

“Sorbet. Gelato,” Risotto shouted down at them. The two men looked up.

 

“Fuck?” Gelato shouted back up.

 

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Ghiaccio said, fuming.

 

“Can you help us up?” Gelato called back, ignoring the question.

 

Risotto took the manhole cover in his hand and it started to contort and melt until it weaved itself into a long iron chain which he threw over the side. You were learning a lot about Risotto’s stand tonight and you were glad it had only done really awesome shit so far and nothing absolutely horrifying like you thought it would. Its name was Metallica and it controlled metal? Risotto was just as big of a dork as everyone else. But you didn’t have time to reflect too much on that right now.

 

 Gelato gestured for Sorbet to go first and once he was pulled up the chain was thrown back down for Gelato. Risotto was back to being unable to hide his anger, although he did restrain himself enough to allow Gelato to actually get settled on the roof before he demanded answers.

 

“God, what’s this idiot thinking, involving all of you?” Gelato muttered to himself before turning to look at you. “Can you like, plug your ears or something?” he asked.

 

“It’s past that point,” Risotto said, his voice a low growl. You shivered. “I want to know what’s going on right now.”

 

“Okay, okay, fine, but don’t get mad at me later,” Gelato said, scratching his head.

 

“He’s mad at you now,” you said.

 

“...Right. So, you know how I’m moonlighting as an information broker on the side to bring in that extra cash?” Gelato said, looking back to Risotto. Risotto’s gaze hardened, but he nodded. “And you know how I said one of my contacts might have some new information on the Boss’s identity?” Risotto’s fists clenched tighter as he gave a small grunt of acknowledgement.

 

“What!?” Ghiaccio yelled, looking between the two of them, clearly ignorant about the matter. “You’ve been looking into the fucking Boss? What the fuck ?” He wasn’t sure who to aim his rage at, Gelato for doing it or Risotto for knowing about it and not telling him or the others. Risotto held up his hand to quiet Ghiaccio.

“Well he didn’t have shit. Didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in my information, though,” Gelato continued. “I thought he was just some petty criminal in over his head. Didn’t think he saw my face so I didn’t off him. Really fucking sloppy of me to underestimate him, I’ll be the first to admit. To be fair, I blame you for being a bad influence,” he said, turning to glance at you. You rolled your eyes and huffed out a deep breath. No one was in the mood. “Recognized him the moment I saw him back at dinner. Apparently he’s Passione, go figure. Oops!”

 

“‘Oops’ ?” Ghiaccio repeated, his hand slamming down and shattering a chunk of ice beside him leftover from his bridge building. “Fucking excuse me? ‘Oops’? And you knew he was doing this shit?” he said, turning towards his Capo. Risotto said nothing.

 

“We can discuss my boyfriend’s utter ineptitude later,” Sorbet said firmly. “We need to get out of here.”

 

“Yeah, we can discuss my endearing character flaws later,” Gelato agreed. “If this guy brought all of you here I don’t think he’s going to be going at it solo for long. I don’t know what he’s fucking thinking, but it’s not good.”

 

“Uh, hey, guys…” you said, and everyone turned towards you before looking up when they saw the direction of your gaze. “Is it... just me or is the sky getting closer?”

 

The sky had indeed been getting closer, twisting and distorting around the edges of the horizon and shrinking in on itself as if you were inside a fishbowl that was growing smaller. The way that the starlight stretched reminded you of scientist’s renditions of how light bends around black holes. It was impossible to visually understand what was happening to the landscape but it eventually had forced the five of you back down into the alley against your better judgement.

 

It didn’t take long for your group to get split apart again. Soon enough Risotto and Ghiaccio were nowhere to be seen and you were alone with Sorbet and Gelato. Gelato was oddly quiet as the three of you moved as a unit, sticking as close as possible to each other. Eventually a look of realization lit up his face and he spun around to face you and Sorbet.

 

“Come here you two,” Gelato said with a big smirk on his face, wrapping his arms around your and Sorbet’s shoulders. You were about to say that it didn’t seem like the best time for a group hug but you suddenly felt yourself unable to move as if you were being restrained by some invisible force. Slowly the world began to shift around you dramatically, more than just walls being raised and lowered. The whole world rushed past you until you found yourselves in a different alleyway. You yelped when you noticed someone else was now with you: the quiet man who had recognized Gelato earlier.

 

Gelato let go of the both of you and took a step forward in the man’s direction. “I admit, your stand is pretty tricky… but it’s easy to navigate once you figure it out. The angles that the alleyways move and the curvature of the sky can only mean one thing… this little world of yours moves on a fourth dimensional axis.” Uh, what ? Gelato launched into an explanation of “Clifford tori” and “tesseracts” and how he was able to use his own stand to lock you all in place on one axis while the world moved around you. The enemy chuckled and praised Gelato for his attention to detail, but went on to correct a few of Gelato’s misconceptions in order to explain why he was still in control of the situation. When you looked over at Sorbet in confusion you saw that his eyes were glazed over.

 

Stand users ,” Sorbet groaned quietly, rubbing a hand down his face. “They always speak in gibberish and try to mentally one up each other instead of just going for the kill. It’s so aggravating.”

 

 “Literally nothing they’re saying is scientifically sound,” you whispered to Sorbet.

 

“Close your eyes and cover your ears for me,” he said, turning to you with a look in his eyes that was almost a bit harsh. He put his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it gently before pulling his gun out from his side. You knew what was about to happen and you followed his orders, vaguely feeling him stand up next to you. You heard a gunshot, muffled by your hands but still loud enough to cause you to flinch, and then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Before you could relax you heard two more gunshots. You waited a few more moments before peeking open your eyes, only to see Sorbet crouched next to you again.

 

“I wouldn’t look over there,” Sorbet said, raising his hand to rub soothing strokes down your back. “You okay?”

 

“Y-yeah,” you said, voice a little shaky. You looked around a little bit at what you could see and noticed the alleyway was no longer a twisting nightmare around you. It seemed like the world was back to normal.

 

“You’re no fun,” Gelato’s voice came from behind him.

 

“You were taking too long,” Sorbet shot back.

 

“Sorbet! Gelato!” you heard a voice call from the alleyway entrance. Was that Pesci? “The rest of his gang showed up!” You heard the voices of the rest of La Squadra as well as some voices you recognized from the restaurant in the distance.

 

Sorbet’s arm stopped moving on your back, and he turned to look at you. He studied your face, his own twisted in deep thought and then a sudden look of guilt as he let out a deep exhale. His hand left you and went down to his ankle, grabbing his second hidden gun and he held it out to you.

 

“Please take this,” Sorbet said, looking ashamed of what he was asking from you. “I’ll… we’ll make sure you don’t have to use it, but…” he said, voice faltering before he steeled his expression, “if anything happens, do you remember what I taught you?”

 

You stared at the gun with a blank expression, giving an almost imperceptible nod, before looking back up at him and realizing he expected you to answer out loud. “Yes,” you whispered. “I remember.” You hesitantly took the gun from him.

 

“Stay right here. I’ll send Illuso to get you as soon as possible. You’ll be okay, Gelato will keep you safe,” he promised. And with that he was running off after Pesci. Gelato quietly gestured for you to stand up. You caught a glimpse of the dead body before you spun yourself around, clutching onto Gelato’s arm as he led you deeper into the alleyway and away from the action. You were careful to grab his free arm and not the one that was holding a gun of his own. You brought your hand down to interlock with his fingers.

 

“I’ve got you,” Gelato said, doing his best to give you an encouraging smile, stopping once the two of you were better hidden. “Those guys aren’t so tough. There’s a reason we’re the ones the Boss sends to do his dirty work. Everything is going to be fine. Illuso will be right over and we’ll get you out of here.” He squeezed your hand with his own.

 

Now that you actually had a moment of relative safety, or at least a moment where you weren’t on the move, you started sobbing. “I’m scared,” you cried as quietly as you could, and you went to wrap an arm around him, hyper aware of the gun in your other hand which you made sure to point away from the two of you. “Gelato, I’m scared.”

 

He just patted your back, keeping an eye on the alley entrance for Illuso. “I know. You’re going to be just fine.” You stood there for a little while with your face buried in his shoulder while he comforted you, until you felt him tense up. You were about to look up to see what was wrong, but before you could he told you to get behind him. Through your tears you could barely see what was happening, but you saw the silhouette of someone who was definitely not Illuso.

 

You could barely tell what was going on before there was sudden movement and the two of them were squaring each other up, posturing and posing in some sort of invisible altercation. It would have been impossible to follow a stand fight under the best of circumstances but you could hardly see anything. You heard them barking insults at each other but couldn’t process any of the words. You were shaking pretty bad and you had a hard time gripping your gun. You weren’t sure what order anything that happened next came in. There was a gunshot, things were dark, you were falling to the ground.

 

You blacked out from the pain radiating from your leg.

Chapter 21: Properties of Explosive Materials

Summary:

You wake up in the hospital.

Chapter Text

You felt yourself slowly regaining consciousness as you grew more aware of the sharp pain in your lower right leg. You were laying down in a bed but you could tell you weren’t in your own room in your apartment. You heard the faint sound of beeping and when you tried opening your eyes you could only squint at how bright the room was.

 

“They’re waking up,” a voice said from somewhere very far away and way too close. You groaned and shifted a bit. You tried opening your eyes again but they still hadn’t fully adjusted to the room’s lighting. The sharp pain had dulled somewhat as you regained your faculties. Slowly you realized you were in a hospital. You tried sitting up but when you put pressure on your leg the sharp pain returned, causing you to cry out.

 

“Careful!” someone else said. Your unfocused eyes drifted lazily around the room until you processed that you weren’t alone. La Squadra was cramped in here with you, surrounding your hospital bed.

 

“Huh?” you sniffled absently, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

 

“Easy now,” the same voice repeated, and you suddenly registered arms on you helping you prop yourself up. You hissed in pain as you moved.

 

“Pesci?” you asked, finally recognizing the figure next to you. He grabbed an extra pillow from nearby and stuck it behind you to support your back. Pesci gave you a big smile, his expression laced with deep concern. You turned to look at everyone else. “What happened?” you muttered. There was a quiet moment before you heard a shrill voice call out to you from somewhere among the sea of faces.

 

“You shot yourself in the leg, like an idiot,” Gelato informed you, and you could hear the smile in his voice even if you could barely make out his face.

 

You could vaguely register Formaggio turning to glare at him. “There’s nothing funny about it,” he growled. No one else seemed too pleased by what Gelato had said until they heard choked laughter coming from your bed.

 

“Fuck, no, that’s really funny,” you said, your voice strained from the pain it took to laugh as your tears finally overflowed.

 

Gelato snickered. “See? Funny.”

 

“It’s hilarious,” you added, sucking in deep breaths of air since laughing was beginning to grow too taxing. “What did we even need those other guys for? I can take myself out no problem,” you wheezed.

 

“Stop talking. You’re hurting yourself,” you heard a deep voice call out, both concerned and reprimanding. You looked over to Risotto Nero who was sitting at the foot of your bed.

 

“Yeah, okay,” you muttered, and you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the pillow you were propped up on.

 

“You’re probably going to be on crutches for a bit there,” Formaggio said, and you vaguely registered it. “The doc says there was some bone fracturing. But it could have been worse.”

 

“Risotto was able to stop the bleeding, and when I took you to the mirror world I was able to leave the bullet shrapnel behind,” Illuso explained. “The painkillers are probably helping a lot right now too.”

 

“Yay,” you whispered. It was quiet for a moment as they let you wake up a bit and when you were feeling more present you opened one eye and looked towards Risotto. “What about the guys who attacked us?”

 

“Those men won’t be an issue anymore,” Risotto assured you. You were awake enough now that you were able to grasp the full implication of that sentence but you weren’t feeling particularly sympathetic to those men at the moment. Although you supposed it wasn’t their fault you were injured, so maybe you were being too harsh. Nah, you reconsidered. Fuck those guys.

 

“Once they realized their buddy wasn’t going to get what he wanted from me the rest of them probably felt like taking our remaining territory would be a nice consolation prize. They got cocky, never stood a chance,” Gelato added. Did everyone else know the thing that “buddy” wanted was information on the Boss? Or had Gelato omitted that detail? You supposed being an information broker or whatever he said he was would be dangerous enough on its own that he could justify everything that happened.

 

You sighed. Then you frowned. Then you shot up anxiously.

 

“Won’t the Boss come for you?” you said, your eyes wide as you searched all their faces.

 

“I’m sure he’d like to,” Gelato replied, and his nonchalance calmed you down a bit. “But I’m sure even he can agree that it’s in his best interests that we killed a man poking around for information about his identity. He won’t be able to argue with the evidence we found, at the very least. And if his teammates retaliated afterwards? Well, that’s just self defense.” You had a feeling that ‘evidence’ was most definitely fabricated, seeing as Gelato had no idea this man was even in Passione until tonight. Almost everyone seemed content with handling the situation this way.

 

But Ghiaccio sure wasn’t. You noticed he was being abnormally quiet, and at Gelato’s explanation he looked particularly resentful. Ghiaccio was currently sitting on the information that Risotto had been hiding something pretty big from everyone else, and his expression made it obvious that Gelato and Risotto still hadn’t told anyone about Gelato’s little side mission yet. You felt a little guilty being in on the secret too, but it’s not like it was your place to let anyone know. You were sure there was going to be a lot more drama at La Squadra base very soon.

 

Another thing you noticed while looking around was that someone was absent. You turned towards Gelato.

 

“Where’s Sorbet?” you asked.

 

Gelato scratched the back of his head and looked away. “He said he’ll stop by later.”

 

That answer didn’t satisfy you but you let it go. You laid back down and closed your eyes again. “How long am I going to be here?” you asked.

 

“The nurse said you should be clear to leave in about three days?” Pesci said from your side.

 

“But… my flight is on Monday… that’s only two days away,” you said, once again sitting up to look around at everyone with a worried expression.

 

Formaggio and Illuso shared a glance at each other. Formaggio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and asked, “You can’t really believe you’re still flying home like this, can you?”

 

“I… I don’t have anywhere to stay! My lease is ending in the middle of next week! All my stuff is already in storage or packed,” you protested.

 

“I thought you’d stay with us until you’re fully healed,” Risotto said, and when you turned to look at him his expression was soft. You weren’t expecting him to have said yes if you had asked, but here he was inviting you himself.

 

“I… couldn’t impose like that,” you muttered.

 

“Please?” Risotto said gently. Well, how could you say no to that?






You had fallen back asleep at some point. Everyone had left the room to let you rest and you had made a call that went about as smoothly as it could go considering you told your mother you got shot in the leg and wouldn’t be able to make the flight home. It took a while to calm her down and assure her you were fine and that the man who mugged you was arrested and that your friends from school were taking care of you and no she did not need to take time off work to fly to Naples to take care of it and that you would talk more about coming up later but right now you were in the hospital and needed to rest. Your head hit the pillow as soon as the call ended.

 

There were nightmares. The pain in your leg was able to permeate into your dreams as well, even with the painkillers you were on. The world kept twisting and turning and you were convinced you were back in the middle of the enemy stand’s attack, only you were completely alone this time. You were brought out of your nightmare when you yelled at the pain in your leg coming on particularly strong. You felt a hand grab yours and you immediately turned to see who was there as you tried to slow your breathing back to normal.

 

“Sorbet…?” your voice croaked and it was the sound of it that made you realize you were crying before the wetness on your face did. He looked incredibly distraught and he squeezed your hand tighter. But he was able to put his own feelings aside for the moment and he gained a look of composure as he shushed you until you calmed down and woke up a bit more. When you had both looked at each other in silence for a moment his composure ebbed yet again.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice shaky with remorse but forceful with how strongly he meant it. “I should have never put a gun back in your hand. I should have never done that to you. This is my fault.”

 

You were still a bit groggy from waking up mid-nightmare but his words came to you with perfect lucidity. As much as you wished it wasn’t true you were a little bitter about being given the gun again. But that wasn’t entirely fair to him, and he was already blaming himself to a degree he didn’t deserve. You certainly didn’t blame him for what happened to your leg, at the very least, and he needed to know that.

 

“This is not your fault, don’t think that. I mean… I’m not happy about this obviously, and maybe I’m a little upset with you… it fucking sucked having to take that gun. But you had no idea what we were up against. At that moment it made sense. You were trying to protect me,” you said.

 

“Yeah, and how did that work out? You shot yourself,” he protested.

 

“Yeah, like an idiot,” you quoted in your best Gelato impression, giving Sorbet a tentative smile. “And it fucking hurts .”

 

“Did he really say that to you?” he asked with a groan.

 

“First thing after I woke up,” you replied, your smile growing bigger. His eyes narrowed at your smile before he couldn’t help snorting out a laugh despite his best efforts.

 

“It’s not funny,” Sorbet said, contradicting his previous laugh as he tried to regain his serious expression.

 

“It’s a bit funny,” you said. “I have my first enemy stand encounter and the one who gets me is… me.”

 

“If I hadn’t given you the gun you’d be fine,” Sorbet replied sternly, although you could tell he was losing his conviction.

 

“If you hadn’t given me a gun and I wasn’t fine you’d blame yourself even worse,” you countered. “There wasn’t a best option, just two shitty ones.”

 

He let out a deep exhale and closed his eyes. “Fine. I’m just sorry it ever got to the point where I had to decide in the first place.”

 

“Technically this is all Gelato’s fault, not yours,” you said with a chuckle. “Make him apologize to me instead.”

 

“With that logic this is Risotto’s fault for ordering Gelato to look into the Boss in the first place,” Sorbet said with a tired smirk.

 

“Okay, so it’s settled then. This is the Boss’s fault,” you said, gesturing to your leg. “Make him apologize to me.”

 

He gave a dark chuckle at that. “I’ll make sure he does,” he promised, laced with violent intent. You frowned at that response.

 

“Don’t actually,” you mumbled. “Risotto isn’t really… going after him, is he?”

 

Sorbet had mostly regained his composure, and he looked stoically off to the side. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he said.

 

You sighed. It was impossible for Ghiaccio to stay quiet for long. You could worry about the Boss when everything was out in the open. Instead you politely dropped the topic.

 

“So… do you forgive yourself yet?” you asked.

 

Sorbet just gave a vague hum in response, and you pouted.

 

“Okay, fine. I guess I am still a little upset with you. How are you going to make it up to me?” You tilted your head to the side and batted your eyelashes.

 

He grunted and leaned backwards, draping his arm over the back of his chair, using his other hand to comb through his hair. “It’s uncanny how much you remind me of Gelato sometimes. What do you want?”

 

“I’m not going to plan my own surprise gift,” you said with a scoff.

 

“A gift , huh?” Sorbet laughed, raising his eyebrow. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

You giggled, sounding a bit more sheepish. “Don’t feel like you actually have to, I’m mostly joking.”

 

“Only ‘mostly’?” he said with an amused huff.

 

“Well! I know that money is always burning a hole in your pocket, and if I happen to come to mind next time you’re window shopping…” you said with a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

 

“This coming from the person who wouldn’t let me pay for their food and drink when I took you out to that cafe?” Sorbet asked, leaning his head onto his propped up fist and giving you an amused look.

 

“That was before we were friends! Also before you let me ride in your super fancy sports car and I realized I’m a broke college student who regretted not letting you pay the second we left,” you said with a shrug.

 

“And our recent pay cuts?” Sorbet teased.

 

“My mistake, I know budgeting must be a real hassle lately so you can still afford all of your boyfriend’s regular teeth whitening sessions,” you shot back playfully.

 

He let out a genuine full body laugh at that. You were so used to his quick snorts and quiet snickering that it took you off guard. The deep musical quality and the unguarded earnestness of it made your heart flutter and made your cheeks hurt from how you couldn’t stop smiling. It was hard to tell if the warm fuzzy feeling driving away all the pain in your body was from the painkillers or how beautiful this man was. The only aching you still felt was in your heart.

Chapter 22: Arrival

Summary:

You get settled in to life at the base.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

You were in the hospital for a little longer than the three days you were hoping since you had a hard time mastering the use of your crutches and adjusting to the bulky cast on your leg. When you were finally discharged you were very relieved since the general atmosphere of the hospital room, from the lights to the beeps, had been a sensory nightmare.

 

Since you had already packed and cleaned up your apartment in preparation for heading home it was easy to pick your stuff up and move it to the base. Ghiaccio’s room had the free space for your stuff and although you said you could sleep on the couch to give him his privacy he and everyone else insisted that you take the spare bed. The old flimsy couch wouldn’t offer the support your body needed during its healing process and it made no sense for you not to stay in Ghiaccio’s room since it was basically a place you had already claimed for yourself anyway. 

 

While everyone had been very helpful and cheerful in acclimating you to your extended stay at the base, there was a lot of suppressed tension going on just beneath it all. Risotto had finally come forward to everyone, not wanting to leave such a delicate matter in Ghiaccio’s hands, and everyone’s reactions were all over the place.

 

Prosciutto couldn’t be mad at Risotto and defended his choice to everyone else, saying that it was his prerogative as Capo to run the squad as he saw fit, and he had his full support. However, when entreated for his own opinion it was clear that he had a lot of reservations about actually going after the Boss. Prosciutto took pride in his work and his loyalty to Passione, although over the years it had turned into a loyalty to his Capo. Of course he was angry that La Squadra was getting table scraps when he knew they deserved better, but it had never crossed his mind to handle it with insubordination. Still, he’d follow Risotto Nero to the ends of the Earth if it was asked of him.

 

In another world without you in it, Formaggio would have been lured in with the promise of riches and power. And honestly, it still was tempting. But his opposition was firmly rooted in concerns for your safety, and if you were reading between the lines a bit, his own safety. You thought back to the night you spent in his bed and how you had seen some glimpse of fear buried deep down within him. I have a lot of feelings about dying right now that I usually never have, he had said that night. You could see it this time, too: he was afraid for himself as much as he was for you. Pesci made no attempt to hide his fear, and if it wasn’t for Prosciutto’s influence he would have wanted to outright denounce the idea. But he wore his heart on his sleeve like always, and everyone knew how he felt without him needing to say it. 

 

Illuso’s pride was hurt more than anything at not being asked to dig for information over Gelato. He only finally stopped pouting when Risotto had pointed out that Gelato’s side work offered him a much larger network of connections. Illuso was a private and isolated man by nature who would have had trouble dealing with other people for information. Risotto knew that Illuso’s support was invaluable, though, with his talent for spying, and Illuso needed little convincing; he was one of the most avid proponents of going after the Boss.

 

Ghiaccio would have been too, but his wounded pride was harder to heal. He had often voiced opinions about the Boss bordering on dangerous if anyone outside La Squadra were to hear them, and he would have been the first to jump on the opportunity to prove their worth and take the respect they all deserved by force. But Risotto had gone behind everyone’s backs, and while the others weren’t exactly happy, Ghiaccio was furious. He stubbornly opposed going after the Boss “on principle,” but everyone knew he wanted it the most of any of them. Once his hurt feelings were out of the way you knew where he’d stand.

 

You were with Formaggio and Pesci on this one. Even people outside of Passione had heard the rumors of what happens when you try to look into the Boss. The police were next to useless and any form of law enforcement or government had seemingly given up on ever exposing the man. Your opinion didn’t hold much weight in this intra-squad matter, though.

 

Part of you thought that staying at the base “after hours” would reveal to you a whole new side of your friends you weren’t ready for, but in spite everything going on behind the scenes things seemed to be more of the same. You still played video games with Formaggio, you still gossiped with Illuso and braided his hair when the mood struck you, and you still helped Pesci paint the nails on his dominant hand, but something about doing it when it was dark out made it all feel like a perpetual sleepover.

 

An “after hours” secret you did learn about Ghiaccio, however, was that he talked in his sleep. Loudly. If his awake ranting ever slipped into the incoherent it was nothing compared to the things he ranted about while he slept. You’d think it was hilarious if you could get any sleep.

 

Other than that major nuisance, the base was comfortable and cozy to live in, and you made yourself at home a little more every day. La Squadra was able to conduct its usual business around you, and you respected their privacy and didn’t take advantage of their trust even if part of you had always been curious about how their super secret meetings went. But you figured those meetings were equal parts boring financial discussions and scary assassination discussions, so you convinced yourself you weren’t missing much.

 

You had always used the downstairs bathroom in the past when you were over, but it only had a toilet and a sink. There were two bathrooms upstairs, one connected to Risotto’s master bedroom, and one on the opposite end of the hall from Sorbet and Gelato’s side that everyone else shared. Risotto had allowed you to use his bathroom when you needed to shower so you could avoid the high demand and lack of privacy the other bathroom offered.

 

The stairs were a little bit of a nightmare for you to traverse and you still hadn’t decided on the best method for going up and down them. You tried with your crutches but the staircase wasn’t too wide and it made maneuvering yourself hard. One time you had tried just using the railing and hopping on one leg but that proved to be inefficient and a bit hard for your still sore body to handle. You just tried approaching them slowly and taking your time after that, hoping no one needed to use them while you were.

 

And for a while it hadn’t been an issue until a few days into your stay while you were making your leisurely trek upstairs you found yourself holding up a very fidgety Gelato.

 

“Do you need to slip past me?” you asked, since it was obvious he was in a rush to get upstairs. You were already far enough up the stairs that you couldn’t head back down in a reasonable amount of time and you weren’t exactly sure how much space you could actually make for him, but you had to offer.

 

“Nah, I can wait,” Gelato replied impatiently, despite his best efforts. You frowned at him, feeling bad about how long it took you to climb the stairs. His leg was bouncing a bit and he let out a little huff, his patience leaving him. “Okay, I can’t wait. I’m running late for uh… a meeting with a contact, and I need to get my stuff together, like, five minutes ago.”

 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You weren’t even close to halfway and you started to turn yourself around to try to see if you could make enough space for him but you winced in pain. He looked a bit guilty when he heard you hiss out.

 

“You’re fine, please, don’t apologize, just.... Can I just carry you?” he blurted out. You felt your cheeks heat up. You hadn’t even processed the full implications before you were replying.

 

“Oh, uh… s-sure… just be careful since-” you started, but before you could warn him to be gentle on account of your leg he was already scooping you up into his arms with more care than you had ever expected from him. You let out a little yelp and he chuckled softly. He told you to let go of your crutches and he carefully used his leg to push them so they leaned against the wall before he started walking up.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you,” he assured you when he felt you clutch at his shirt. You looked up to meet his eyes and although he was still radiating stress at the idea of running late, he gave you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I know how annoying of me this must be.”

 

“Not at all,” you whispered, the heat in your cheeks only growing.

 

“Where am I bringing you?” he asked, his eyes looking back to the stairs to make sure he didn’t trip. It took you a second to process the question.

 

“Oh, uh, Ghiaccio’s room. My bed,” you stuttered. He gave a hum in acknowledgement. When he reached the top of the stairs he headed straight into the room since the door was already open for your convenience. He set you down gingerly on the bed and before you could say thank you he was already sprinting back out the door. You were a little sad until he appeared again moments later and leaned your crutches against your bed frame.

 

“Thanks, it won’t happen again,” he said with a big apologetic smile before he was gone again.

 

“Uh! No, thank you !” you shouted after him.

 

You wanted it to happen again, though. Not while you were still injured since you valued your autonomy, and you knew that was just as awkward for him as it had been for you. Even though you were fine with it this time if it happened again you’d find it patronizing. But to be picked up in his arms like that when you were all healed up because that’s right where he wanted you to be, and to nuzzle your face into his shoulder while he kissed your neck? You’d love to have those arms around you again, just like when you were pressed up against him in that closet.

 

You were falling for him. For both him and Sorbet. You already knew you had it bad, but it was just getting worse. You had to talk to them about what Gelato had said that day at the gym soon, before you let your feelings get away from you. How did they really feel about you? It wasn’t right to be interested in two men already in a relationship, right? Would they ever let a third person in? If one of them did like you, did the other as well? Would you be able to handle it if you couldn’t have both of them and had to choose? Was that weird, did that sound selfish? But they had both been hitting on you before you asked them to stop. Had it only been because the excuse of their relationship gave them plausible deniability?

 

If you weren’t ready to approach them, you had to talk to someone about how you felt. Later that night you sought out Formaggio to hash out your feelings with him. Illuso wasn’t at the base so his room offered privacy while you talked. It was a little embarrassing to admit to him that he had been right about your crush on Sorbet when you had vehemently denied it before, and it was almost more embarrassing to admit you also had a crush on Gelato. That actually surprised him a bit.

 

“Really?” Formaggio asked, his eyebrow raised. “Gelato too?”

 

“Yeah… I know...” you whined. “I know, I know, I know…”

 

“Yikes,” was all he said. You stuck out your tongue at him.

 

“Yeah, yikes, I know. He’s the worst, blah blah blah,” you muttered, hugging your knees closer.

 

“I’m not trying to make fun of you,” Formaggio said firmly, putting his hand on your shoulder.

 

“I know. I’m making fun of me though,” you groaned. “Look at me, I’m Gelato, I don’t say flirty things anymore but let me carry you up the stairs, blah!”

 

“He carried you up the stairs?”

 

“Yeah… not in a weird way though… well it was kind of weird since, like, he was in a rush? And it made me feel like a big obstacle or whatever? But he didn’t mean it in a mean way like that… but he definitely didn’t mean it in a weird flirty way.”

 

“You sure? He’s done that shit before.”

 

“Yeah, but we had this whole deep conversation and shit? He apologized and I can tell he meant it. Sorbet apologized too, and things have been good since then,” you said. Gelato had even, like, cried. But you weren’t going to tell Formaggio about that.

 

“But your feelings are getting worse anyway?” he asked, putting both his hands behind his head as he laid back and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

 

“Well now they’re so nice in not a mean way!”

 

“Nice in not a mean way?” Formaggio repeated, smirking at you.

 

“Blah!” you shot back, grabbing a pillow and hitting him with it. “Well I still don’t get it, because Gelato said some weird things about how Sorbet talks about me a lot, but in a… I don’t know… more than a friendly way? Or maybe I misunderstood? They both definitely think I’m cute, but to be fair to them everyone thinks I’m cute,” you said, turning your hand palm up in a gesture to match your words.

 

“You are pretty cute,” Formaggio muttered.

 

“Yeah! So, who fucking knows?” you sighed, taking back the pillow you hit Formaggio with and placing it over your head as you laid down beside him. “I need to talk to them about it,” you said, your words muffled by the pillow.

 

Formaggio gave a hum in affirmation before he sat up and reached over to put his hand on the knee of your good leg. He had done a good job of listening to you and didn’t offer much in the way of advice since he knew you probably didn’t want to hear it right now. He didn’t have much optimism about Sorbet and Gelato being interested in anyone besides each other, but he’d let them tell you that themselves when you asked. He knew their teasing would get you to this point eventually, and even if they had stopped now it was still taking its toll on you. He felt like he understood the two of them enough to know that at this point they weren’t intentionally trying to hurt you.

 

But if it got worse he was intervening.

Notes:

Thanks to everyone who continues to support my fic. :)

Chapter 23: Around the Clock News

Summary:

You can't sleep so you watch a movie with Sorbet and Gelato.

Chapter Text

You couldn’t sleep. You would have tossed and turned if your leg cast didn’t make it so cumbersome to move. At the beginning of your stay you kept thinking you’d eventually get used to Ghiaccio’s sleep talking, but it had been about a week now and you were losing too much sleep to the man. You had spent a couple nights of your first week at the base falling asleep in other places occasionally, like when you had fallen asleep sitting up on the couch once during a late night game session with Formaggio, and he had carried you back to your bed. It made it all the more noticeable the next night when you’d tried to sleep with Ghiaccio in the room again to no avail.

 

You ended up sleeping in very late into the day for this reason, since Ghiaccio got up pretty early compared to what you were used to and the merciful silence in the morning was a blessing. Your leg was still healing, although you were doing a bit better than you had been, and you were managing to get sleep even with the pain.

 

But not tonight. Tonight was terrible. He was so loud and you couldn’t take the sensory overload. Despite how cumbersome you knew it would be you finally opted to head downstairs and try the couch. Anything to get away from Ghiaccio’s night ranting.

 

The light for the stairs was connected to a dimmer, and because everyone knew you might need something from the kitchen in the middle of the night it was kept on a lower setting to help you not break your neck when you climbed up or down the stairs. As you made your slow descent you heard that the television was turned down very low in the living room, and as your eyes adjusted to the dark you could see small flashes of light from the living room entrance. It seemed as if the room you were hoping to sleep in might already be taken. You continued down anyway since you were too far along at this point. Maybe you could join whoever was up this late if you weren’t able to fall asleep anyway.

 

When you peeked into the living area you saw Sorbet and Gelato wrapped up in each other’s arms on the couch. They both turned to look at the entryway like they were expecting you, since it was hard for you to walk down those stairs and not make any noise. You gave a tiny wave. “Hey…” you whispered.

 

“Someone’s up late,” Gelato said at a volume that was just one decibel above appropriate for the time of night. You decided to walk a bit closer to the couch, if only for the sake of everyone else who was asleep at the moment.

 

“Mmhm… I don’t know if you know, but Ghiaccio talks in his sleep. A lot,” you said with an exasperated laugh. “I can’t sleep at all.”

 

“No kidding!?” Gelato’s face lit up with a mischievous twinkle in his eye upon hearing this new information about Ghiaccio. 

 

“Did you need the couch?” Sorbet asked.

 

“No, I really don’t want to kick you guys out,” you said with a sleepy smile.

 

“Want to join us then?” Gelato asked with an impish grin.

 

You gave a hum at that. “What are you watching?” You turned towards the TV. It was some old black and white horror movie.

 

“Not sure,” Gelato said. “Sorbet likes boring old-timey stuff, and I like a good slasher, so this is our compromise.”

 

You chuckled. “Yeah… sure, I’d like that,” you said. You expected both of them to scoot over to the opposite side of the couch to make room for you, but instead they both moved in opposite directions to make the middle available. “Oh… uh…” you stuttered, blushing a bit.

 

“We can move if it’s not okay…” Sorbet began, but you shook your head.

 

“It’s fine!” you assured him, and you moved to sit between the two men, setting your crutches on the ground in front of you. You leaned back and got settled into the couch.

 

The movie was bad. You were too tired to follow the story of it, but you let out a small laugh every so often when the acting or practical effects were especially horrible. It eventually became white noise and you found it hard to keep your eyes open. At some point you must have briefly fallen asleep because you were vaguely aware of someone tapping your shoulder trying to get your attention. You turned towards the direction of the tapping with still closed eyes and muttered out some incoherent noises.

 

“Hey, sleepyhead. You sure you don’t want us to go?” Gelato asked.

 

“Mmm… no…” you said, turning your head back again and nuzzling into Sorbet’s shoulder. Wait. When you finally woke up you realized you were leaning on Sorbet. “Ah! Sorry!” you said, pulling yourself off of him.

 

Sorbet just smirked at you and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair. “I don’t mind. I’m just worried that you do,” he said, and you felt yourself pressing your head against his hand involuntarily.

 

“I… do cuddle with the others sometimes,” you mumbled. “Mostly Pesci and Formaggio… just normal friend stuff…”

 

“You sure that’s ‘normal friend stuff’ with Maggi?” Gelato asked with an eyebrow raised. “I think he has a thing for you.”

 

“Oh… that’s, uh, really complicated. It’s definitely a friend thing though,” you said, followed up with a small yawn. Gelato looked very curious for more gossip about the nature of your relationship with Formaggio but you just shrugged instead of continuing. He pouted at that.

 

You had no idea what was happening in the movie now, but you didn’t care much since you weren’t too invested in it. Spending time with Sorbet and Gelato like this was nice though, and you would like to do more casual things like this with the both of them when you were fully awake. You vaguely remembered your summertime fantasies of hanging out with La Squadra, and even with your injury those fantasies were still closer to happening than they had been before.

 

Hanging out with Sorbet and Gelato outside the base without the excuse of it being for training, really hanging out with them, was something you were going to make happen before your vacation ended. It could be as friends, although you hoped it would be as something more, but you’d be satisfied with it either way. Just being near them was enough to make you feel all fluttery and tender inside. No matter how you felt about them, or how they felt about you, you wanted to be a part of their life like you were with everyone else.

 

“We’re friends too, though,” you practically purred, your eyes glazing over as you yawned again. “If you guys… also wanted to cuddle…”

 

You were tired and your thoughts were a little hazy at the moment, but you at least had enough awareness to know you were only inviting more trouble for yourself; you needed to talk to them and make everyone’s intentions clear before you moved on to proposing stuff like this. But when both of them leaned in to wrap their arms around your shoulders and press against you a soft “oh” left your lips. They had transitioned into it so fluidly and without hesitation. You felt your heart start beating faster despite how exhausted you were. They were so warm…

 

“You’re so much softer than Sorbet. He’s all muscle,” Gelato chuckled quietly in your ear. You were about to reply when you felt his fingers stroke softly under your jaw, the feather-light touches almost making you whimper. When Gelato removed his fingers Sorbet gently reached over to cup your face and turn your head in his direction. You suppressed yet another mewl as you stared into his eyes, the warmth and affection in his gaze enough to make you dizzy. 

 

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “If it’s too much...”

 

“No!” you breathed out, your answer coming across a little more desperate than you wanted.

 

You still needed to talk to them. You brought cuddling up in the context of being friends. You didn’t want to do this as just friends. You wanted them both so badly. You had to stop this and talk to them about how you felt. About how they felt. You had to know before anything went further.

 

“I… please… it’s nice…” you murmured, instead.

 

The movie was still playing somewhere far away, but you couldn’t even register it at this point. You were covered in goosebumps and your body felt so hot. You pushed everything else out of your mind except this moment. Later you could talk, but you couldn’t bear to stop this moment now. This was everything you wanted, and you lost yourself in how safe and cozy you felt to drown out the aching in your heart and the doubts in your mind. Eventually you fell asleep like that, nestled between the two of them.

 

After the best sleep you’d had at the base so far you felt yourself slowly waking up when the morning light flooded in through the common area windows. You were alone on the couch, but you had a blanket spread out over you that Sorbet and Gelato must have put there before heading to their own room. You smiled and brought the blanket over your face to block out the sunlight as you tried to get just a little bit more sleep.






It was impossible to go back to trying to sleep in Ghiaccio’s room with his sleep talking after that night. You would stay up all night in his room, staring at the ceiling, until he woke up. You’d pretend you were asleep as he did his daily routine about the room, but it wasn’t until he left that you finally made an attempt at sleep.

 

Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you’d head downstairs, convincing yourself that you needed a glass of water, only to peek into the living room and see if Sorbet and Gelato were up late again. They weren’t, but occasionally you were too exhausted to make the trek back upstairs and you’d end up sleeping on the couch anyway.

 

Other squad members began to notice that you often passed out on the common area couch, and eventually some of them started asking if you were alright. You told them sometimes when you came downstairs you couldn’t make it back up, and didn’t bring up Ghiaccio’s sleep talking with anyone else, since you knew there was still lingering tension with Ghiaccio and his teammates. You’d already blabbed to Gelato and you didn’t want to embarrass Ghiaccio by telling more people, even if he was destroying your sleep schedule.

 

Eventually one night you happened upon Sorbet and Gelato up late once again. You weren’t so tired this time since you had been staying up and sleeping in later and later, and you thought maybe you’d be able to actually follow whatever they were watching on the television. Plus, maybe you would find a good opportunity to finally have a serious conversation with them. You couldn’t put it off forever.

 

They greeted you and you sat down between them like last time, and their arms were around you before you could even process it. You knew you were probably a blushing mess, not that anyone would be able to tell in the dark. You mentally tried to hype yourself up for finally asking them if they would have a serious talk with you, and you were even about to get the words out before Gelato spoke first.

 

“I hate to see you so tired all the time during the day,” he said, his fingers playing with a bit of your hair. “You know… we have a free bed in our room, too.”

 

“...Huh?” you breathed out.

 

“We haven’t needed two beds for a long time now,” Gelato continued to explain with a chuckle. “So there’s an extra one in there. I have a bunch of my shit piled on it, but I could clean it up, make it usable for you. Plus, both of us can vouch for each other that we’re very quiet sleepers.” 

 

Sorbet rubbed small circles on your back. “It’s all yours, if you want it.”

 

You had to remember how to breathe before you were finally able to answer them. “Y-yes! Thank you!” you squeaked.

 

You could always talk to them later.

Chapter 24: Decyphering

Summary:

24 chapters later and you all confess your feelings.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the movie was over the three of you headed upstairs, and you were practically sweating from how nervous you felt. It all made sense, of course, logically. They had a free bed. You needed somewhere to sleep. Ghiaccio’s room wasn’t conducive to sleeping, and with how late you were sleeping in every day the couch wasn’t your best option anymore. They had a solution to your problem. That’s all. You didn’t need to be weird about it.

 

You approached the last bedroom door at the end of the upstairs hallway and Gelato entered the room without you and Sorbet, closing the door behind him. You saw the light turn on underneath the crack at the bottom of the door and you heard the sound of a lot of stuff being moved around.

 

“He’s a slob,” Sorbet’s low voice came from beside you. “He uses that bed whenever he’s too lazy to put something away properly. I’ll make sure the whole room is cleaned up by tomorrow night for you.”

 

“Oh, really, I don’t mind,” you mumbled.

 

“I figured you wouldn’t. But I do,” he said with a low hum. “It’s a great excuse for him to finally organize his shit.”

 

A few minutes later Gelato opened the door again, his day clothes now off, leaving him in his black tank top and a pair of loose shorts. You appreciated that he had enough decorum to not be stripped down to his boxer briefs right now, which you were pretty sure was the way he normally slept given your first time talking to him outside his room. “Alright, that’s as good as it gets tonight,” he said with a yawn.

 

Not only had you never really seen the actual inside of Sorbet and Gelato’s room before, but conversations with your friends in the past implied no one else had seen the inside of it either. Gelato made it clear that their room was a “no mirror zone” and that any highly reflective objects must be left outside, which was easy for you to accommodate at the moment since all you had on you right now was your pajamas and crutches. You felt he didn’t have too much to worry about though; you recalled a discussion you had with Illuso where he seemed to be thoroughly uninterested in “snooping on those exceedingly paranoid, short-tempered hermits.” Details on Gelato’s side operations probably fell into the same category as information on Sorbet’s stand: off limits, by order of Risotto Nero.

 

You followed Gelato in and took a look around while Sorbet headed down the hall to the bathroom. It wasn’t too much different from everyone else’s bedrooms in size and layout, but instead of two desks like most of the other rooms, there was one larger one which was surrounded by cabinets and shelves crammed full of file folders and books. The bed that you assumed was for you to use looked like it had been made fairly quickly in an attempt to be presentable, as the pillows were strewn about and the sheets were wrinkled and clumped up in certain spots. Around and underneath the bed were books and files with dirty clothes draped over them that had no doubt all been hastily thrown off the bed minutes ago, and their placement in no way resembled the neat organization of the desk area or what you could glimpse of the neatly hung clothes in their closet.

 

Opposite of your bed on the left side of the room was another bed which Gelato flopped down on. Hanging on the wall bordering his bed was a large map of Naples and other surrounding areas which was covered in sticky notes with handwritten annotations containing the names of what you assumed must be various contacts or targets of interest. When you turned around to look back at the door you saw there was a corkboard near the front of the room on your bed’s side that was covered in photos of people, both detailed mugshots and blurry pictures taken at a distance. There were red strings connecting various faces to newspaper cutouts or other handwritten notes.

 

The door itself, you were surprised to see, had at least three different types of locks going up the side in addition to the standard lock on the doorknob that all the bedroom doors had. They certainly were exceedingly... thorough, short-tempered hermits.

 

“Welcome to La Squadra’s True Central Intelligence,” Gelato said, with a grand sweeping gesture about the room. “Only Risotto has ever been in here before. His office has all of the important day-to-day junk, but this room is where the real juicy stuff is. Eh… not that I think you should have any particular interest in it. Just don’t rifle through my top secret documents and we’re golden.”

 

“You… you two really trust me, don’t you?” you murmured, still taking everything in.

 

“Maybe I just don’t see you as a threat,” Gelato said with a sly smirk. You turned your gaze to him and narrowed your eyes before sticking out your tongue at him. He just snickered.

 

“Of course we trust you,” Sorbet’s voice came from behind you as you heard the door close, causing you to jump just a bit. You turned to look at him, and noticed he too was in his sleep attire which meant he was wearing some silky pajama bottoms and no shirt. You turned away.

 

“Thank you, again… I appreciate it,” you said, crawling onto your bed and laying your crutches against its frame.

 

“Let us know if you need anything. More pillows, more blankets… a kiss goodnight?” Gelato said with a smirk before Sorbet cleared his throat. Gelato looked at him, then away from both of you. “That was… a joke.”

 

“Ahaha… I know it was,” you said with an awkward laugh. God, you really wanted a kiss goodnight. “It’s fine, I’m not upset.” You gave a small smile to reassure him.

 

Gelato smiled back then laid down on the bed and Sorbet’s hand hovered over the light switch next to the door as he looked towards you for permission to turn the lights out. You settled into bed and got comfortable before you nodded at him. The room was suddenly cast into darkness.

 

“Goodnight,” you called quietly into the dark.

 

“Night,” Gelato’s voice called back. Sorbet just let out a soft grunt as he climbed into bed next to his boyfriend.

 

You were worried you wouldn’t be able to get any sleep in this room either despite the quiet since your heart was beating so fast and thoughts of the two of them only feet away would surely keep you up all night. But the bed smelled a tiny bit like Gelato’s clothes, that dusty earthy scent you smelled every time you found yourself pressed against him, and once you were focused on that it wasn’t too long after that you found yourself drifting off to sleep.






You broke the news to Ghiaccio as gently as you could that he talked in his sleep and that you had been staying awake all night for over a week now listening to it. He took it better than you thought he would, but it also seemed like he was too stunned at the fact that Sorbet and Gelato had offered up their room to you to even think about his own sleep talking. Most of the others reacted similarly when you told them. Apparently actually being invited into their room was, like. A big deal or something.

 

“You cuddled with them and slept in their room?” Formaggio asked, his eyebrow raised a bit judgmentally. “But you didn’t talk to them yet?” You were once again sitting on his bed in his room while Illuso was out to go over your most recent interpersonal follies.

 

“W- we cuddle,” you stuttered out, turning away from him.

 

“But we know where we stand with each other.” Formaggio sighed and closed his eyes before continuing, “They’ve never let anyone else in that room before, and we’ve all known them for way longer than you have. You’re telling me that’s not messing with your head a bit?”

 

“Look, I know I should have talked to them! But what if it gets weird now and they kick me out?”

 

“Then it gets weird and they kick you out, but at least you talked about it. Isn’t this the type of open and honest communication you’ve been preaching at me for about a year now?” Formaggio asked, looking you right in the eyes.

 

“Blah, my wisdom only works for other people, I can’t be expected to be reasonable,” you muttered, turning away from his intense stare. He sighed. It had been intended as a joke but it fell kind of flat, and you turned back to look at him. “I know you’re right.” You cracked a small smile. “For once.”

 

That at least got a chuckle out of him, and he patted your shoulder gently.




 

When you slept for the second night in Sorbet and Gelato’s room you were impressed with just how much cleaning they were able to get done that day, considering the state the room had been in the night prior, and now there was plenty of room for you to move without worrying about knocking over a precariously stacked pile of books. They had also washed all the bedding for you, and while you were a bit sad that it no longer smelled like Gelato, it did smell clean, and it was still warm by the time you were ready to sleep. If the base didn’t have air conditioning it would have been a bit much in the middle of summer, but with the base air nice and cool the warm sheets and pillowcase had you asleep early once again.

 

You woke up to the room empty the next morning and you thanked Sorbet and Gelato mentally for being so quiet and letting you sleep in. A lot of your stuff was in Ghiaccio’s room still, and you still spent a decent amount of time in his room during the day which helped smooth over any hurt feelings he might have had, but you had a few things moved into Sorbet and Gelato’s room now. You grabbed a change of clothes from the space they’d made for you on top of their dresser and headed downstairs after getting dressed.

 

It was a little late for breakfast and a little early for lunch, but you were still hungry, so you were headed for the fridge. You heard the sound of Sorbet and Gelato’s voices coming from the kitchen and smiled as you made your way to the entrance, but then you heard a third voice.

 

“Can I talk to you two?” Formaggio asked. He sounded very serious.

 

“How can we be of service, Maggi?” Gelato replied. You were about to leave them to their privacy before you heard Formaggio mention your name as the topic of discussion, and you tried to keep quiet as you listened in. “Oh?” Gelato said, voice filled with curiosity. You couldn’t move now, even if you wanted to. What did Formaggio want to ask them about that had to do with you?

 

“So. They’re sleeping in your room now?” Formaggio asked, and it was hard to gauge his emotion from his voice alone.

 

“Apparently Mr. Cool Ice talks in his sleep,” Gelato said with a chuckle.

 

“And… that’s okay with you?” Formaggio asked, a bit harsher than the previous question.

 

There was just silence in response.

 

“Look, I know things were weird for a while between the three of you and that it’s not like that anymore. I don’t want to bring up things that are already over and done with,” Formaggio began.

 

“Hmm… then don’t?” Gelato shot back casually. You could catch a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

 

“I don’t know what you two are seeing, maybe in your mind it’s all taken care of, but a lot of the shit you pulled before you ‘talked it out’ or whatever is still affecting them.”

 

“Did they ask you to have this conversation?” Gelato asked, his voice a little softer and unsure.

 

“No, but-” Formaggio started before getting cut off.

 

“Okay,” Gelato said, the softness and uncertainty instantly gone. “If it’s all the same, I think I’d rather hear this from them instead of getting your half-baked analysis of things, thank you very much.” There was another uncomfortable silence following that. You felt a bit upset and a bit guilty listening in on this. Upset that Formaggio was speaking on your behalf, and guilty for putting off talking to Sorbet and Gelato as long as you had.

 

“We care about them just as much as everyone else,” Sorbet’s deep voice came as he finally spoke. “If there’s a problem, we’ll take it seriously. But to be honest? You sound jealous.” Even if you couldn’t see Formaggio’s face in response to that you could tell the entire atmosphere of the kitchen had changed.

 

“You need to tell them you’re not interested before you break their heart,” Formaggio growled. “When I realized how I felt after we went out, I made it fucking clear .” He gave an angry laugh. “I’m not jealous of you two. They’re my friend and that’s what I’m happy with right now, and because they’re my friend I don’t want to see them hurt!”

 

“Who says we’re not interested?” Gelato’s voice cut through everything else and you felt your stomach drop, and you involuntarily let out a small gasp and quickly covered your mouth, hoping no one heard. Was he just trying to counter Formaggio’s accusations, or did he really mean that?

 

“Y-you are?” Formaggio stuttered, sounding a bit deflated. “ Both of you ?”

 

“All I’m saying is you’re making a lot of assumptions right now about the two of us, and… hm?” Gelato said, the last noise clearly in response to something you couldn’t see. You heard whispering and then a tongue clicking, and next thing you knew Gelato was calling out your name. “You’re there, right?” Fuck, Sorbet must have heard you. You peeked your head around the corner and gave a sheepish smile.

 

“Uh… hey… sorry,” you muttered. Formaggio looked a bit embarrassed, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Sorbet and Gelato were staring at you intently, and you had to turn your gaze down to the floor.

 

“It would be hypocritical of either of us to get on your case about eavesdropping at this point,” Gelato said with a smile as he patted Sorbet’s shoulder. Gelato was, however, massaging his temple in exasperation with his other hand.

 

“I- I’ll get out of your way,” Formaggio muttered as he headed towards the entrance you were standing in.

 

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, my man!” Gelato called after him, all sarcasm and malice.

 

As Formaggio walked next to you he stopped for a second to set his hand on your shoulder. “I’m really sorry,” he whispered in your ear. You gave him a small smile.

 

“We can talk about it later,” you whispered back, and he nodded before leaving the room.

 

You hobbled further into the room and sat down at the kitchen table, tapping your fingers against the surface. Sorbet and Gelato looked at each other before joining you at the table as well.

 

“I… should have talked to you two sooner… instead of letting things get to this point,” you said, your voice faltering a bit as you watched your tapping fingers. “When we were at the gym… I wanted to ask more about how you two felt about me, but it didn’t seem like a good time. And then it just… never seemed like a good time after that, even though I had plenty of chances.” You scratched your head and chewed on the inside of your cheeks a bit before you looked up at them. “When you say you’re… ‘interested’...?”

 

“Do you like us?” Gelato said, straight to the point. When you hesitated he tried to clarify but just ended up babbling. “Do you want something more intimate with either of us, or do you really think cuddling is just ‘normal friend stuff’? Because if it is for you, that’s cool or whatever, but I have to fucking know if that’s all it is. Like… when I was weeping on the gym mats like a clown, and you’re talking about how you’ve got these feelings and shit… is that just thinking my Sorbet is excessively gorgeous?” He emphasized his point by wrapping one arm around Sorbet’s back to place a hand on his shoulder and hitting Sorbet’s chest with his other open palm. “Because, well. First off, yeah, he really is, right?”

 

“Gelato,” Sorbet said, rolling his eyes as he brought his hand up to run his fingers through Gelato’s hair, before he turned to look at you, giving you a chance to speak.

 

“I-I… I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt back at the gym… but lately I’ve been feeling…” you began, but your face grew hot at the prospect of confessing your feelings. Both of their intense gazes on you was just adding to the pressure you felt. “I… aah… I think you’re both absolutely beautiful! I love the way you two love each other… I’ve never seen two people so in love before… I imagine myself being with both of you and it makes me feel bad and selfish or something… but...” you trailed off.

 

“But?” Sorbet prompted. You had been hoping one of them would take back the conversation but you just sighed and pushed through.

 

“I kept thinking about what Gelato said at the gym… how you… talk about me to him. And how before that whole emotional confrontation happened the two of you kept calling me cute all day, but you haven’t done it since… and I know it’s because of what I said and I’m glad that you took me seriously! But I can’t take this weird tension now, not knowing what any of it means to you!”

 

“Taking the words right out of my mouth,” Gelato muttered, rolling his eyes. Sorbet’s hand was still in Gelato’s hair, and he used it to push his face down on the table. “Oof- hey!”

 

“What he means ,” Sorbet said with a serious tone, despite the laughter in his eyes as Gelato squirmed beneath his hand, “is that we’ve also been in the same boat. I’ve wanted to talk about this for a while now, but Gelato keeps finding excuses to put it off.”

 

“Sounds familiar,” you said with a shy laugh, looking down at Gelato’s pouting face pressed against the table.

 

“I’ve never known someone as kind and giving as you,” Sorbet said, and you couldn’t help but smile at the praise as your cheeks grew warm. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone like you to handle living your life like this, but I watch you with the others. I see how you bring out everyone’s humanity. I’ve considered these people my family for years now, but ever since you’ve shown up everything feels different. There’s this real sense of compassion that was never out in the open before. Towards you, of course… but towards each other too.” He scratched his head with his free hand and looked off to the side. “I need to apologize to Formaggio. I thought he was jealous and I didn’t trust his intentions. He’s a good friend to you.”

 

“He’d appreciate that. I think he’s a little intimidated by you. A lot of them are… they have trouble reading you,” you said.

 

“And you don’t?” Sorbet asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No,” you said with a smile. “Your eyes always give you away. You’re much more kind and gentle than you give yourself credit for, and I think if you reached out to everyone they’d see that too.”

 

He just chuckled at that. “For a time I thought that you were a weakness we all shared, and maybe you do make us all worse assassins. But you make us better people, and that has to count for something in the grand scheme of things. Maybe not in this life, but the next.”

 

You covered up your face at his words.

 

“I told you not to say all that mushy stuff about how they’re saving your soul and shit,” Gelato’s voice came from below Sorbet’s hand, a bit muffled since his cheek was flush with the table’s surface. He finally pushed Sorbet’s hand off of him and sat up, looking at you. “I think he’s just finally happy to have an angel to stand on his other shoulder to offset my nefarious influence.”

 

“I’m not sure if even my angelic benevolence is up to the task,” you said with a playful scoff. He chuckled and propped his head up on his hands.

 

“You’re an absolute sweetheart... a little too nice, if I’m being honest. I hate when you feel the need to apologize to me when I’m the one who’s fucking you over. I had no idea how a softie like you was even able to get this far with La Squadra. You’re very selfless and loving and I have no doubts about that. You’re a little vain, sure, beautiful people like us deserve to be. But you’ve got a bit of a mean streak that you don’t show the others,” he said with a smirk.

 

“What do you…” you started, but stopped yourself thinking back on all the spiteful things you said to Gelato that you would never say to any of the others. “Okay, yeah, but that’s just because you’re… you!”

 

Gelato just smiled affectionately at you in response. “No one else here is on my wavelength, y’know? When we double teamed Rizzie during that apology session? He never stood a chance. Even I’m a little scared of the raw power we could have working together. Before you came along I fancied myself something like the true puppetmaster of La Squadra, but I feel like you’ve managed to usurp me on that front,” Gelato said with a thoughtful hum.

 

“They’re definitely crafty,” Sorbet added with an amused huff before looking at you with a sly twinkle in his eye. “I don’t even think you realize how tightly everyone here is wrapped around your finger.”

 

You were quiet for a moment before you pouted. “You’re saying that because I asked you to buy me a gift, aren’t you?” Gelato barked out a small laugh at that.

 

Sorbet just smirked. “Still on the lookout for something nice.”

 

“I’ve found that a nice picture frame really shows someone you care,” Gelato added. You couldn’t help laughing at that, and he tilted his head to the side with a grin. “God, no one else laughs like you do at the weird shit I say, not even Sorbet, and trust me I can get some good snorts out of him when we’re alone. When I called you an idiot for shooting yourself? I knew you’d laugh at that. I love your laugh,” Gelato said, a real fondness creeping into his words.

 

You stifled a small giggle, your blush growing.

 

Gelato gave you a sly grin. “You’re really funny, too, once you get past all the bashfulness. Not to say that you’re not cute when you’re all blushing and stuttering.” He smirked. “Like right now.”

 

“I-I’m not-” you stuttered before stopping, realizing you were only proving his point. That made you blush even harder, also proving his point.

 

“I mean it though. I think about all the times I’ve laughed real hard in recent memory and it’s all stuff you said.”

 

“Hopefully only the things that were intentionally funny?” you asked with a huff.

 

“Mmm… most of it,” Gelato replied with a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him, and his eyes drifted down to look at it. “You’re always doing that with your tongue. I’ve always got this impulse to yank on it.”

 

Your tongue went back into your mouth. “No, don’t!”

 

“Relax, I wouldn’t tell you if I was actually going to. Besides, I can think of a few better things to do with it,” he said, his eyes narrowing a bit. Sorbet’s hand went to cover Gelato’s face and push his head back until he was bending backwards uncomfortably and trying to pull his boyfriends hand off. Meanwhile your hands were covering your own face.

 

“Before you run your mouth without your filter on, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page,” Sorbet grumbled. He turned towards you while Gelato squirmed in his chair. “Are we right in assuming you’re interested in something?”

 

“Oh God, yes,” you practically whined. “Yes, definitely yes.” Sorbet let go of Gelato who almost fell back out of his chair before he balanced himself. Gelato took a second to regain his composure before he turned to look at you.

 

“It’s a date, then,” he purred.

Notes:

"Slow burn."

Chapter 25: Xenoanthropology

Summary:

After confessing your feelings the three of you can't sleep.

Chapter Text

As the three of you finally headed upstairs for bed Gelato was musing out loud about how he and Sorbet needed to trade out the two modest sized beds for one big bed. You shot him a glare and told him not to get ahead of himself.

 

The first two nights you spent sleeping in Sorbet and Gelato’s room had been way more restful than you had anticipated. Tonight though, after the three of you finally put your feelings out in the open in the kitchen, you were completely restless. Luckily, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

 

“Uhh, coffee or tea?” you asked into the darkness.

 

“Both,” Sorbet’s deep voice replied from the other bed.

 

“Blech, neither,” Gelato said with an exaggerated noise of disgust.

 

“I guess you don’t need the caffeine,” you said with a chuckle.

 

“Yeah. That’s what the Adderall is for,” Gelato replied with a scoff.

 

“Oh!” Suddenly a lot of things about Gelato made more sense to you. “Uh... ADHD, right?”

 

Gelato gave a hum in affirmation. “What about you, huh? There’s something going on in that head of yours too, right?”

 

“Autism,” you murmured. “I’m sure someone’s already told you that if you’re supposed to be the information guy around here, though.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t ask.”

 

You gave a long thoughtful hum as you thought of another question. “Uhhh… cats or dogs?”

 

“God, your questions suck,” Gelato said with a groan.

 

“Cats,” Sorbet said flatly.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything!” you shot back with a sigh. “Why don’t you ask some questions?”

 

“What’s the most fucked up and evil thing you’ve ever done?” Gelato responded immediately, as if he had been sitting on it for a while.

 

“Huh? That’s nothing like what I’ve been asking!” you complained.

 

“That’s on you for asking shitty questions. So?”

 

“I don’t know! Nothing?”

 

“C’mon, just from your perspective. I want to see what sort of miscreant I’m dealing with here. What’s your threshold of fucked up and evil?” he pressed on, sounding very amused.

 

“Fine, just let me… think about it,” you muttered, systematically going over your entire life story in your mind. A particularly shameful memory came to mind, and even though you knew a literal career killer like Gelato wouldn’t think much of it, you were still reticent to share. “Okay… when I was in elementary school there was this boy who was really nasty towards me. I really hated him more than anything, and he caused a lot of trouble so the teacher wasn’t a fan of him either… So to get him in trouble I bit myself as hard as I could and told the teacher that he did it. I like, broke skin and shit and had a nasty bruise for over a week. He got suspended because none of the adults believed I’d do that to myself. He was scared of me after that.”

 

“Wow. Brutal,” Gelato said with a low whistle.

 

“He went to my high school too. The guilt was eating away at me for so long that I finally apologized to him the day we graduated. He didn’t recognize me and barely remembered it,” you finished.

 

“Boo, bad ending. Should have bit him too,” Gelato said with a huff.

 

“I illegally downloaded some of last semester’s textbooks online,” you offered.

 

“Oooh, that’s more like it. We’ve got a criminal mastermind over here,” Gelato said with a laugh.

 

“I think it says more about the college’s fucked up and evil status than mine.” You paused again before adding one last thought. “Sometimes I think about shoplifting.”

 

“No kidding. Really?” Sorbet muttered sarcastically.

 

“I’m trembling over here, Sorbet,” Gelato added. “I don’t feel safe around them.”

 

“Oh shush!” you called over at the two of them. “Give me a different question.”

 

“What do you find the hottest about Sorbet?” Gelato asked, again without needing to think.

 

“W-what! Why can’t you just ask... my favorite color or something?” you stuttered. Hopefully Sorbet would step in and…

 

“Yeah, what do you find the hottest about Sorbet?” Sorbet asked in his usual emotionless tone, but you could picture the laughter in his eyes. You supposed there was no hiding how you felt anymore, but it still didn’t make you any less embarrassed.

 

“Ugh, whatever.” You took a deep breath. “I… like your toned muscles. And, uh... and the dark hair on your arms… I’ve always wanted to… run my fingers through your chest hair.” You were so glad the lights were out because you knew your face must be absolutely saturated red.

 

“Mmm, trust me, it is all it’s cracked up to be,” Gelato purred, and you heard the sound of him shifting in bed, and then Sorbet letting out a satisfied hum.

 

Another thought crossed your mind, and you whispered it, barely audible. “I... saw him in reading glasses once.”

 

“Was that when you were pretending you weren’t drawing me?” Sorbet asked, his voice smug. You felt another pang of embarrassment at that.

 

“Oooh, you’ve got a thing for nerds?” Gelato cooed. “Me too. And now I’ve got two of them.”

 

You couldn’t suppress a sheepish giggle at that, but part of you also felt a tiny bit bolder. “And… Sorbet was wearing black lipstick the first time I met the both of you. I’ve seen you in it a few other times in passing, like when you’re going out for a date with Gelato, but…” You willed yourself to finish your sentence. “I’d like to see you wear it again... when… I’m hanging out with you.” There was a small silence before the both of them were snickering. Another wave of bashfulness overtook you.

 

“After we come home from those dates and make it up here I’m always covered in black lipstick marks,” Gelato whispered, tone salacious. “Is that something you’ve been thinking about?”

 

“I… I hadn’t,” you breathed out, squirming a little in your bed. “Until right now.” You bit your lip a little and brought your blanket further up to shield yourself from sight even though it was unnecessary in the dark. “I… I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

 

You heard Gelato shift in his bed. “No?” Gelato whispered, his voice gentle and free of his previous teasing. “Neither had Sorbet before we got together.”

 

“Nothing ever felt right when I was still pretending I was straight,” Sorbet said with a deep sigh.

 

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Yeah… I get that. Being trans in high school I never trusted anyone’s intentions. Anyone who seemed interested in me wanted me to be whatever suited them best, so I was a girl to some people and a guy to others. I did go on a date or two really early in high school before I came out, but… it still all felt wrong even before I knew what my deal was.”

 

Sorbet replied with a hum.

 

“I had the opposite experience,” Gelato said, followed by a sigh of his own. “I threw myself into as much trouble as I possibly could whenever I found it. Just throwing my body against a concrete wall, over and over, with how many fucked up relationships I’d find myself in. Took whatever I could get because I didn’t think something good was even possible... Let everyone fuck me over because I thought I deserved it.”

 

You made a sad noise in your throat. “Sounds really bad,” you whispered.

 

“Ehh, that’s the past. I’ve got Sorbet now. I don’t think about that shit anymore,” Gelato said in an effort to dismiss the tension. “I guess I’ve got you too. We’ll have to see where that takes me.”

 

“On a date, I thought?” you said playfully, sensing he wanted to switch topics.

 

“That’s the idea,” Gelato replied, and you could hear the smile in his words. “Guess we gotta come up with something you can do with a busted up leg. There goes bank robbery.”

 

“Bank robberies are usually saved for at least the third date,” Sorbet said with a chuckle.

 

“I can manage some walking as long as we’re not going for a hike or running from the police,” you said.

 

“How about the boardwalk? It’s summer, and a little sunlight could do you some good, all cooped up in the base like this,” Gelato suggested.

 

“I don’t know, it might be a little too crowded to squeeze past everyone with my crutches.”

 

“You’ll be between the both of us and we’ll push everyone out of the way for you,” Gelato said with an impish chuckle, and you had the sneaking suspicion he was completely serious.

 

“Well I don’t have any other excuses, then,” you said, trying not to laugh.

 

“It’s settled then. This weekend we’ll all head on down to the boardwalk and make everyone who sees us painfully jealous, as is our God-given right,” Gelato said. “Can’t wait to be someone’s arm candy for once.”

 

“I’m your arm candy?” Sorbet asked with a scoff.

 

“You’re my trophy husband, I thought you knew that.”

 

“Wait, are you two actually married?” you asked, voice laden with curiosity. 

 

“Not yet. One day, maybe,” Sorbet said wistfully. “When things in Passione are more stable.”

 

You frowned. It only seemed like things were about to get more unstable behind the scenes if Risotto was really pushing ahead with looking into the Boss. There was a contemplative silence for a while and you wondered if maybe the conversation had naturally ended and everyone was ready for bed.

 

“What’s the hottest thing about Gelato?” Gelato’s voice rang out, breaking the silence.

 

“Goodnight,” you muttered.

 

“C’mon!” he whined.

 

“His pudgy fuzzy tummy, his rosy red cheeks, and his soft spoken nature. I just love how quiet and polite he is,” you said sarcastically. “Goodnight.”

 

“The hottest thing about you is how feisty you are,” Gelato said with a chuckle. You took one of the pillows from your bed and threw it over at him, but when you heard a small ‘oof’ from Sorbet instead you realized you missed your mark.

 

“I think you have beautiful eyes,” Sorbet said, voice muffled by the pillow.

 

“Thank you, Sorbet,” you and Gelato both replied in unison. Gelato barked out a laugh and with an exasperated sigh you rolled over and went to sleep.






You were washing your face and fixing up your hair a bit in Risotto’s bathroom when you heard him enter his bedroom. He looked over and gave a grunt in greeting when he noticed you. You gave him a small wave before grabbing your bottle of sunscreen off the counter and squeezing out a little into your hand.

 

“Going out today?” Risotto asked, rummaging through his nightstand drawer. You hummed an affirmative at him. “With Pesci or Formaggio?”

 

“Sorbet and Gelato, actually,” you responded, suddenly sounding a bit shy. Risotto noticed your tone and turned around with a raised eyebrow.

 

“You three are close lately. I’m glad everything is working out,” he said with his usual monotone. “What’s the occasion?”

 

“Oh, uh...” you began, trailing off as you applied the sunscreen. “We’re all… going on a date.” When you looked at him he had an uncharacteristic look of bewilderment. It was quiet for a moment, and you were about to respond before you heard Illuso’s voice yelling somewhere else in the base.

 

“Formaggio! Holy shit!” you heard him call out, and you felt your face heat up, knowing no doubt that your words had caused his reaction.

 

Risotto just gave a little cough and turned back to his nightstand. “Have fun,” he said, although there was still a hint of his lost composure in his words.

 

 If no one had expected Sorbet and Gelato to invite anyone to see the inside of their room, they definitely had not been expecting the two of them to ask a third person out. Illuso prided himself on always knowing about these kinds of things before everyone else, but when Formaggio told him that not only did he already know about the date but he also knew that you had been interested in the two of them for what must have been months now, Illuso felt incredibly distraught. Like Formaggio had told you before, everyone else had written off your behavior to your typical easy-to-fluster nature, and he was the only one who had seemed to notice how you actually felt.

 

But your feelings were easy for everyone to understand in retrospect. Maybe the incident where Gelato revealed his stand to you had always been in the back of everyone’s minds, but you weren’t the type to hold grudges. It was Sorbet and Gelato’s feelings that had everyone dumbfounded. No one had ever expected the two men whose PDA could take over the entire common area to ever direct their affection elsewhere.

 

As you were in Ghiaccio’s room packing up the backpack you were going to use for the occasion, since your usual tote bag would be too cumbersome with your crutches, Formaggio walked by to lean in the doorway. The two of you had already talked things out and he had apologized for taking it upon himself to confront the two for you. You were a bit upset, but at the same time you couldn’t stay mad at him with the way things had turned out.

 

“You should have seen the look on Illuso’s face,” Formaggio called out towards you with a laugh. “They’re all really worked up about it downstairs. I mean, I’m surprised too, but I’ve known for a few days now.”

 

“You should have seen Risotto’s face,” you called back with a laugh.

 

“Pesci also kind of knew, but he never expected it to go anywhere. I guess I’m happy for you. If they ever do break your heart, though…” Formaggio trailed off, hitting his fist into his other open palm. Yeah, yeah, he’d ‘get’ them.

 

“I’m sure we can handle our feelings like adults, however things end up.”

 

“I think Sorbet is still upset with me,” Formaggio added, scratching the back of his head. You frowned and turned to look at him. Sorbet did say he wanted to apologize to Formaggio, but had that not worked out?

 

“Why, what happened?” you asked.

 

“Well, he’s moved on to playing some sort of weird mind games with me. Said he was sorry about calling me jealous… but he sounded so eerily serious about it,” he muttered.

 

You barked out a laugh at that. “I’m pretty sure that was just him being actually sorry.”

 

“You think?” Formaggio asked, not sounding convinced. You rolled your eyes.

 

Your phone vibrated and you looked down to see that Gelato had texted you that Sorbet had pulled around the side with his car. You finished packing your stuff and Formaggio gave you a supportive pat on the shoulder on your way out of the room, wishing you a good time on your date. Once down the stairs and on your way to the door, you passed by the living room only to see the rest of La Squadra, sans Risotto, staring intently at you in complete silence. You stopped for a moment and stared back at them.

 

“Don’t worry, we won’t rob any banks until at least the third date,” you said with a barely contained smirk before you headed out the door. As you closed it behind you the sound of the living room erupting into chaos had you grinning like an idiot.

Chapter 26: On the Nature of Daylight

Summary:

Your date with Sorbet and Gelato.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the two of them pulled up Gelato rolled down the passenger side window and smiled as he tilted down a pair of aviator sunglasses to meet your gaze. Aside from the shades he also had swapped out his familiar small gold hooped earrings for circular emerald jewel studs. His eyes soon started drifting over your appearance; you were wearing comfortable clothes for the weather and venue, but you did pick out an outfit that was particularly flattering and leaned just a tiny smidge towards flashy.

 

Although you couldn’t see the entirety of Gelato’s outfit you immediately noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual khaki jacket, but rather a loose fitting short sleeve shirt with a mock turtleneck that was a dark deep green to match the emerald earrings he was wearing. Upon closer examination from your angle above him it appeared to be a crop top. You could barely see his soft tummy from outside the car, but you immediately turned your eyes away anyway towards Sorbet. He was wearing a black button-down, as was his style, although this one had three-fourths length sleeves and was covered in a summery floral print of flowers and palm leaf silhouettes in a vibrant teal. It was unbuttoned down a little further than usual, showing off his chest hair, so you moved your gaze up to the flirtatious smirk he was giving you. He was wearing the black lipstick you had told him you liked, and in addition to that he had the smallest accent of teal eyeshadow on.

 

Obviously both these outfits were the culmination of some very intentional choices and, well, you couldn’t complain, really. You did ogle the both of them awkwardly for another moment, though, trying to keep a smile off your face which would give them more of an ego boost than they needed, and when you realized you’d been staring you turned around suddenly to open the back door, ignoring the quiet snickers from the front seats.

 

As you entered the backseat of the car, Gelato exited the passenger seat to join you. He didn’t want to “leave you all by your lonesome,” although this did leave Sorbet by himself up front. That wasn’t too much of an issue though, since throughout the car ride Gelato would often lean forwards and practically drape himself over the front seats to talk to Sorbet. When he first stood up from his seat you finally noticed that he was wearing some cutoff jean shorts that gave you a very nice view of his long legs. Although Sorbet seemed completely unfazed by Gelato and was able to keep his focus on the road, you found yourself yanking Gelato back into his seat and asking him to please put his seatbelt on.

 

Gelato just smirked and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Aw, c’mon, there’s no need to jerk me around like that if you want my attention,” he said with a chuckle, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. You turned your head away from him to look forwards as you felt your face heat up a bit, but you eventually leaned your head onto his.

 

“Never actually sat in the back before,” Gelato mumbled next to your ear. You let out a quiet noise in the back of your throat. “Kind of feels like he’s our chauffeur, huh? Pretty fancy.” At that Sorbet’s gaze went up to his rearview mirror to meet Gelato’s eyes, and he let out a huff. Gelato asked in a sing song: “Oh chauffeur, how long until we arrive?”

 

“That’s Mr. Chauffeur to you,” Sorbet shot back before returning his eyes to the road. You and Gelato both gave a quiet giggle at that.

 

Gelato calmed down a little for the rest of the ride as he held you close and watched the scenery pass. You watched the world outside the window for a bit too before your gaze drifted lazily around the interior of the car. You were still marveling at how new and clean it looked and it was obvious Sorbet took very good care of it. Your eyes eventually drifted downwards and you almost choked trying to hold back a laugh when you saw Gelato’s feet. While the rest of his outfit was trendy and indicative of good style, it honestly came as no surprise to you that the man was wearing some thick plain looking white socks and a pair of velcro sandals. Gelato turned towards you when he felt you balk at something, but your eyes were already back to the window.

 

Unlike you, Sorbet was a local to Naples who knew the city’s layout very well and he was able to secure a pretty good parking spot that wasn’t too far from the boardwalk despite how busy it was. Gelato helped you grab your backpack and steady yourself on your crutches, and when you were all out you took a good look at the two of them now that they were fully visible.

 

“You two are incredible,” you murmured, too enamored by how they looked right now to feel bashful about saying it out loud. Sorbet gave a genuine warm smile in response without any hint of smugness, and while Gelato still looked a little smug himself he involuntarily scratched the back of his head a bit sheepishly.

 

“Eh, well, look who’s talking,” Gelato shot back playfully, and although you couldn’t see his eyes through his shades you could tell from the way his head was turned he was looking away. The intensity of the affection in your eyes had caught him off guard.

 

Gelato walked away to the other side of the car to open the passenger seat and rifle around for a bit until he pulled something out and walked back over, adjusting a fanny pack around his waist.

 

“God, what a fashion icon,” you said with a laugh, seeing the full look of his flamboyant crop top and small denim shorts juxtaposed with his socks and sandals as well as the new accessory.

 

“I thought you’d get a kick out of it,” Gelato said. “Now you can pretend you’re looking at this when you want to sneak a peek at my midriff.” You just smiled innocently, and feeling a little emboldened you did let your gaze drift a bit lower on his body.

 

Once the three of you made sure you had everything you started to walk for a bit and a block or so later you were at the boardwalk. You looked out at the vast ocean taking up the entire horizon and up at the sky filled with a light smattering of fluffy white clouds and several kites being flown by beachgoers. You stood between Sorbet and Gelato and you were happy to find that the buffer room they provided as well as the general decency of the people around you made it easier for you to move around than you thought it would be. Anyone impatient or foolish enough to try to push past any of you was dealt with by the two men, although you were thankful that didn’t entail Gelato pushing them like he said he would. They just helped you correct your course when needed, and Sorbet’s intense aura helped keep rowdier pedestrians at bay.

 

You three had a general idea of what the date would entail in order to spare your legs any undue strain. Sorbet had already made reservations for a popular seaside restaurant down the boardwalk, but you had some time before then to take in the sights.

 

“I’ve never actually made it down here,” you said as you let your eyes linger on the various storefronts you passed by. A lot of the places were gift shops aimed towards tourists, and while you didn’t technically qualify as one, you still found yourself distracted by various cheap knick knacks much more than your two dates did. “Next year I’m going to graduate and it still feels like I’ve barely seen any of the city.” You stopped walking to peer inside the window of a shop to see what treasures it held, but it was more of the same beach gear and Naples themed clothing. Gelato moved to stand next to you and take a look as well.

 

“You’re not missing much, this place isn’t for natives. It’s the kind of superficial junk that gets tourists excited,” he said. “Like, look at that thing.” He pointed at a fridge magnet that was a collection of pasta pieces that made up the figure of a man; a ravioli head with googly eyes and a macaroni mustache, a cute farfalle bow tie, and long spindly spaghetti limbs, one of which was holding a tiny Italian flag that read: “I ‘Heart’ Napoli.”

 

Your eyes grew wide staring at the tiny pasta man, and you turned to look at Gelato with a pouty lip. “He’s so cute , don’t be mean to him,” you whined.

 

Gelato let out a snide laugh which made your frown bigger. Then he walked towards the shop entrance and before you could ask him what he was doing he turned to you and put a finger over his lips. He pointed at Sorbet who was a little ways ahead, finally stopped and waiting after realizing you two weren’t following him anymore, and told you to go ahead and that he’d be right back.

 

“What’s he doing?” Sorbet asked with a raised brow as you rejoined him.

 

“I think he’s stealing a fridge magnet for me,” you grumbled under your breath.

 

“That’s sweet of him,” Sorbet said with a fond chuckle. You rolled your eyes.

 

Eventually Gelato exited the gift shop looking very pleased with himself as he patted the fanny pack on his hip, and the three of you continued your walk. Once you had put a decent distance between yourselves and the shop you turned to Gelato.

 

“So, did you get the goods?” you asked, as sarcastic as you could even though you were fighting back a smile. You didn’t want to encourage him.

 

“Got you a whole pasta family, darling,” he said with an impish grin, reaching for the zipper on his pack and pulling out not one but five tiny pasta men. You couldn’t hold back your smile anymore, and with his sunglasses now on his head you saw his eyes twinkle at your reaction. “Here, let me put them in your bag for you,” he said, reaching over for the zipper on your backpack. You slowed your speed a little while he transferred your new friends over. “Why did you bring this big bulky thing with you anyway?”

 

“Other than my tote bag it’s all that I had. I used it for textbooks during school… needed something easy to use for today. It’s just my wallet and sunscreen, and uh…” you trailed off.

 

“Is that your sketchbook?” Sorbet asked, glancing over.

 

“Heh, yeah… I kind of wanted to keep up the practice even though I don’t have the class anymore… I was thinking maybe I could, uh… draw some stuff,” you explained, your voice faltering a bit. You didn’t want them to think that you had planned ahead for something to occupy your time if the date got boring. That wasn’t your intention at all in bringing your sketchbook with you. “Like… draw you two?”

 

“Oooh, fun,” Gelato cooed, and the genuine playfulness in his voice put your mind at ease.

 

“Do I actually get to see these ones?” Sorbet asked.

 

“Oh! Of course… I forgot that I hadn’t, uh… actually shown you the… well, when we’re sitting I can show you the drawings I’ve done of you already if you want!”

 

“I’d like that,” he said, giving you one of those warm smiles that always threatened to make you melt.

 

Eventually the three of you arrived at your destination. The restaurant was very nice, but it was a lot less formal than the place you went to with the rest of La Squadra, and you were glad for the more easygoing atmosphere on your date. After the waiter got your drink order down you took a look in your backpack at the five tiny Pasta Men that Gelato had stolen for you. You didn’t want to admit it because you knew it would go to his head, but you really appreciated that he did that.

 

Once you looked over the menu and decided on your order you pulled out your sketchbook and went through your drawings with the two of them while you waited for the server to return. Sorbet was happy to finally see the portraits you did of him, and you got just as giddy as you always did any time either of them gave you any praise. You normally never gave anyone free reign of your sketchbook and only let people see what you were comfortable showing them, but you felt your insecurities about your art melting away with every compliment the two of them gave you. Aside from your life drawings you had also picked up the habit of doodling more cartoony things to fill in the spaces between larger pictures. While Sorbet appreciated the skill in your refined illustrations, Gelato was much more interested in the goofier and less polished drawings.

 

“Draw me like that,” Gelato said, pointing at one of the doodles. “These ones are way more fun than your other stuff.” You didn’t think much of your cartoons, but it made you happy that Gelato liked them. When you smiled at him you realized he was staring at you expectantly.

 

“Now?” you asked, looking at the table top crowded with a basket of bread, your menus, and napkins wrapped around silverware.

 

“Just real quick,” he crooned. “Before the waiter gets back.”

 

You sighed and pulled a pencil out from your bag, taking a second to note the details of his hair, face, and outfit before you quickly got to work on rendering him. You drew him flailing his arms with an open mouth of sharp shark teeth with a speech bubble next to him that read ‘My name is Gelato and I am a menace!’

 

You expected him to roll his eyes or feign annoyance, but he snatched the sketchbook out of your hands with a look of genuine excitement to take a better look before shoving it in Sorbet’s face. “Sorbet, look, it’s me!”

 

“Uncanny,” Sorbet muttered, trying to move back a bit so he could actually see it, considering he was a tad farsighted. When the picture actually came in to focus he let out a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s spot on.”

 

You had a really nice time eating out with the two of them, enjoying your meal and their company. The conversation was a lot lighter than you were used to with the two of them, considering all the drama that had made up a majority of your friendship so far. It was nice to finally feel completely at ease with them.

 

Once you had all finished your lunch, the waiter came by to collect your plates and ask you if you wanted to see a dessert menu. With a sweet tooth like yours you were about to say yes, but Gelato held up his hand to stop you and told the waiter that you were all ready for the bill. When the waiter was gone he turned towards your pouting face with a smirk.

 

“Don’t worry, dear. I’ve already got an ice cream parlor in mind that I want to take you to,” he assured you. Your pout disappeared immediately at the idea that Gelato had already somewhere special in mind.

 

The ice cream parlor was a little ways down the boardwalk but you didn’t mind, and ice cream sounded especially good right now considering the summer heat. You had also had a small fantasy of going out for ice cream and kissing the two of them while you were trapped in that closet with Gelato, hadn’t you? You blushed a bit at the memory.

 

It was a really cute little ice cream shop, clean and cozy, with a large assortment of lovingly crafted homemade flavors. You always got a little overwhelmed when presented with so many options, especially when everything looked so good. Sorbet ordered a small cup of coffee flavored ice cream, since he lacked the affinity for sweetness that you and Gelato had. Gelato ordered two flavors that had no business going next to each other (mint chocolate chip and rainbow sherbet) and loaded it up with an excess of uncomplimentary toppings.

 

You were finally able to narrow down your choice to two different flavors, and you turned towards Gelato and Sorbet with a thoughtful expression and an innocent smile. “Hmm, I don’t know… do I want the raspberry sorbet , or the white chocolate gelato ?” you asked, batting your eyelashes, waiting for their reaction.

 

“Are you trying to be funny or something?” Gelato asked, expression blank.

 

“I don’t get it,” Sorbet said flatly with that amused look in his eyes. You stuck out your tongue at them, and Gelato’s facade cracked as he reached over to ruffle your hair. He leaned in closer.

 

“Why are you even asking?” Gelato whispered in your ear playfully. “You’re obviously just going to get both.” You could only giggle sheepishly and turn away from him.

 

Gelato had been right in choosing here for dessert; the quality of the ice cream this place made was exceptional. The three of you sat down on a table outside and stared out at the ocean, the faintest hints of orange tinging the sky as the sun sank lower towards the horizon.

 

“You graduate next year, huh?” Gelato asked, licking some dripping ice cream off his sticky hand. “What’s next for you?”

 

“I don’t know… I’d like to stay in Naples, but I’m not sure what sort of work I’d get here…” you said, eating another spoonful of your treat.

 

“You’re family,” Sorbet affirmed. He had already finished his ice cream. “We’d all take care of you while you got your footing.”

 

“Who knows where we’ll all be in a year,” Gelato added. “If we’re all finally making the big bucks we could put you through grad school.”

 

You wrinkled your nose at that. “The last thing I want to think about right now is more school.” It was a possibility for you, but you didn’t have any big plans at the moment. The thing that your mind was fixating on now was what Gelato had said about where you’d all be in a year… would they really be able to take on the Boss?

 

Would they all be dead by then?

 

No, no, no. That thought was quickly banished from your mind.

 

“I know I don’t want to see you gone anytime soon,” Gelato said with a smile, reaching over his gross sticky ice cream covered hand to rest on yours. You yanked your hand away and shot him a glare, and he laughed. As much as you hated feeling gross and sticky though, his words had made it really hard to stay mad. That sentiment, that he wanted you here with everyone, was the exact opposite of what he felt when you first met. Sorbet’s noticeably clean hand landed on your other one, and you turned towards him.

 

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Sorbet’s voice rumbled, low and deep, but also warm and loving. He leaned over to kiss your knuckles softly, leaving behind a faint impression of his black lipstick. “We are.”

 

You smiled, finding it hard to work up the energy to be bashful as you found yourself mesmerized by his dark brown eyes staring so deeply into yours. You pulled his hand closer towards your own face and kissed his knuckles as well. He then cupped your face in his hand and his thumb stroked over your jaw. You closed your eyes and leaned against his palm.

 

You felt Gelato reach for your other hand, again. You yanked it away, again. You opened your eyes and saw him feigning a very hurt expression.

 

“Finish your ice cream and wash your hands first,” you said with a scoff. To your absolute surprise he got up and threw away the rest of his ice cream cone and snatched a large handful of napkins in a tight wad off another table before wetting them at a drinking fountain and wiping his hands clean. He dramatically flopped back into his seat next to you and reached over to grab both of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. Sorbet leaned back in his seat and let out an amused huff.

 

“How’s that?” Gelato asked with a smug lilt to his voice. You rolled your eyes with a big bright smile that you couldn’t stop, and gave his still-wet hands a squeeze.

 

“You really are a menace,” you muttered. His hazel eyes sparkled as he titled his head a bit to the side and let out a light tender laugh.

 

“You flatter me,” he responded, pulling your hands closer so he could place a kiss of his own on the back of one of them. You gently freed your hands from his grasp to cup both sides of his face.

 

“I mean it from the bottom of my heart,” you promised, with a soft smile.

Notes:

Thanks for your patience everyone! :)
Second half of date still to come.

Chapter 27: Hydraulic Lift

Summary:

You have your first kiss(es).

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

After you finished your ice cream you pulled out your sketchbook and drew the two of them for a bit while you all talked. Gelato would often request more of your cartoons in between your sketching, and once he realized you were open to drawing pretty much anything his requests got more and more absurd. Soon all of your Sorbet and Gelato sketches were surrounded by doodles of firearms with large biceps, or “guns flexing their guns” as Gelato had put it.

 

When he asked you to draw Risotto in mime makeup you politely declined. You’d never recover if one day you decided to show Risotto your sketches only to forget that was in there.

 

While you were chatting you were pleasantly surprised with just how candid they were willing to be when you prodded a bit into their personal lives. You knew the two of them were pretty private when it came to their other squad members, so it felt like you were being shown a side of them that others rarely got to see.

 

You learned that Gelato was an only child who had lost his parents when he was young and lived with his grandfather until he joined Passione at the ripe old age of fifteen. His job as an “information broker” was something he did even before he joined Passione, though the title wasn’t so formal when he was just a teen, and was actually one of the reasons they had sought him out first. They had made him “an offer he couldn’t refuse,” and well, how could he refuse an offer like that? Even after joining the gang his life was one of constant struggle and alienation until he met Risotto Nero and transferred into La Squadra. The way Gelato talked about “Rizzie” with admiration and high esteem was almost jarring considering how he usually acted in his Capo’s presence.

 

On the more mundane side, you also learned that Gelato loved starting drama online and had several forums he regularly checked up on with the express intent of pissing everyone in them off as much as possible. Some of the forums were for topics he wasn’t even interested in or had any particular knowledge about, but that he thought would be the funniest to antagonize. Those poor saps in the Professional Rubik’s Cube Speedcubing forum never knew what hit them.

 

Something that you weren’t expecting about Sorbet was that he was Catholic. That wasn’t too odd in and of itself since he said he came from a large traditional Italian family, but it seemed even after realizing he was not a straight man and subsequently leaving his family behind for a life of crime he still held on to that part of his identity. He didn’t go to Mass or say grace at meals or believe it was a sin to love a man, but he still considered himself Catholic, even now. You wondered what kind of relationship he actually had to his faith and God, but you figured you would ask him later; you could tell by the way he kept looking over at Gelato that it was something he didn’t like talking about in front of him. Gelato let out a sigh of relief when the topic changed.

 

Sorbet liked the finer things in life, fancy food and expensive cars, and he enjoyed a good book or classic film, which were things you already knew. He also said he could juggle, quite well in fact, which you did not know.

 

They didn’t touch much on the actual murder and mayhem that was their work life (like bank robberies, those were probably questions for at least the third date), but you knew if you wanted to pursue this with them you would have to make peace with learning a bit more than you would like about Passione’s darker deeds. You probably wouldn’t have been able to pursue this relationship before you had the resolve you did now.

 

Maybe that’s why things with Formaggio hadn’t clicked right; you were afraid of the truth of the evil they all did in the dark, and in that moment he had been the one to help you through those feelings. Had it happened differently, at a different time, a little earlier or a little later, maybe the conditions would have been right for you and him to get together. Part of you also felt like Formaggio came out of the night you spent together with his own reality check, although you were worried that while your resolve strengthened his may have faltered. Even if you had realized you were ready after that night, he would not have been. But the way things played out was okay with the both of you.

 

The conditions seemed optimal now with Sorbet and Gelato. You weren’t hiding from La Squadra’s true nature anymore, your attraction to each other was out in the open, and the three of you seemed to be clear of any of the doubts that had plagued your friendship up until this point. Learning more about them, spending time with them, being close to them… you were sure you wanted this.

 

Eventually Gelato was feeling a bit restless so the three of you got up. Sorbet asked if you wanted to head back to the car, but you told him your leg was doing fine and you weren’t ready to leave yet. Gelato had mentioned that there were a few rides farther down, and while you didn’t think you’d be able to do something strenuous or bumpy that could hurt your leg, you did think that a ferris wheel ride sounded particularly romantic.

 

As the three of you entered the stretch of the boardwalk that contained the more carnival-esque attractions you tried your best not to make eye contact with the staff running the various games as they barked out to passersby. You did stop dead in your tracks however, much to the irritation of some people walking behind you, and stare wide eyed at a particular game stand when something caught your eye.

 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, utterly transfixed, pointing upwards. Sorbet and Gelato followed your finger and line of sight until their eyes landed on a giant stuffed animal frog with a big bowtie and tophat that stared back with large friendly eyes and a charming smile. He was the only one of his kind and the only prize that large, about four feet tall including the hat.

 

“That’s one big frog,” Gelato said with a low whistle. “He’s a strapping young man, too.” He glanced over at the sign underneath the frog which listed how much a round of the game cost. He flashed you a smirk, digging around in his fanny pack for his money, and walked over to the booth, slamming his lira notes on the counter in front of the carnival barker. “What do I gotta do to get that bad boy?” Gelato asked, shoving a thumb in the direction of the frog.

 

“It’s simple, my good man. If you can knock over all five milk bottles,” the barker explained, gesturing to five milk bottles stacked on top of each other in a pyramid arrangement behind the counter, “you get the frog. Anywhere between two and four, and you get your pick of one of these.” He gestured to the far less exciting prizes lining his booth wall. “Only one bottle, and, well-”

 

“That’s not happening,” Gelato interrupted him, his tone confident and impatient as he reached out his hand. “Give that ball here.”

 

The man just chuckled and handed Gelato a worn baseball, and he went over to the milk cans to pick them up and show them off, as if to say ‘look, just normal milk cans, no tricks,’ before setting them back down in their proper arrangement. Gelato took a second to toss the ball between his two hands, getting a sense for the weight of it, then positioned his legs firmly on the ground and made a few practice throws without letting go of the ball before he primed himself for his first real throw. He leaned his arm back, focus clear on his face, and-

 

He missed.

 

“Oooh, tough luck! Fear not, though, not many get any bottles on the first-”

 

Gelato interrupted the man by slamming down more money on the counter. “I was just goofing that time. Give it,” he demanded. The man just smiled and handed Gelato another baseball.

 

And another, and another. Gelato hit the cans a couple times, and for a second it looked like the top one might fall, but it eventually steadied itself.

 

On the fourth try Gelato did knock over the top can and the barker congratulated him. “One can down nets you one prize from the Bargain Bin,” he said, pulling out a tiny wicker basket from beneath the counter and offering up its contents. It was all plastic rings, sticky hands, and fun size chocolate bars. Gelato shoved the basket away from himself and glared at the man.

 

“Do I look like I want that cheap shit?”

 

“Gelato, please, stop wasting our money,” Sorbet sighed, putting his hand on Gelato’s shoulder to calm him down. He’d seen enough of this. Sorbet put down some money of his own. “Let me show you how it’s done.” He flashed his own confident smirk at you and Gelato, and Gelato just muttered under his breath about how he wanted to win it for you and how Sorbet was a huge show off.

 

Sorbet took the baseball from the man and the aura of assurance radiating from him was captivating. His stance looked so much more elegant than Gelato’s as he aimed his pitch, right towards the optimal spot that would surely knock them all over, brought his hand back, and-

 

He knocked over one can.

 

“That’s two prizes from the Bargain Bin!” a cheery voice called out.

 

Sorbet grabbed Gelato and pulled him towards you as he draped his arms over you both in a conspiratorial huddle. “It’s rigged,” Sorbet hissed, and you could see just a hint of his composure had been lost. His ego had been bruised so thoroughly from just that, and he immediately turned that frustration towards the game; it would be almost funny, kind of adorable even, if you didn’t want that frog so bad.

 

“I mean, probably. It is a carnival game,” you offered to placate him.

 

“Let’s beat him up,” Gelato suggested.

 

“Noooo,” you whined.

 

“They’re right. We’ve got to win this, beat him at his own game,” Sorbet whispered.

 

Gelato lifted his head to glance over Sorbet’s shoulder and he gritted his teeth when he saw the man behind the booth arrogantly counting the money he’d received from you all so far, offering Gelato a smug little wave when he saw him looking. Gelato held his breath, then turned to look at the milk cans for a second. You noticed them wiggle a little before he turned back.

 

“They’re all weighted, of course, which is typical,” he muttered, “but those bottom ones are actually stuck on some kind of magnet or something. He can probably turn it off and on when he needs to.” His eyes narrowed again in the direction of the cans, and they wiggled a bit more. “But the pull isn’t so strong that I couldn’t knock ‘em off with my stand if I wanted to.”

 

“Good,” Sorbet hummed. “Let’s show this crook we don’t fuck around.” You were going to point out that the two of them killed people for a living, or at the very least that Gelato had shoplifted earlier today, but you refrained. It was getting to your head just a bit how worked up the both of them were getting over winning this frog for you, and who were you to get in the way of two men who were vying for your affection? Plus there was no way you were leaving the boardwalk without that frog.

 

Sorbet turned back towards the barker and put down what was hopefully the last bit of cash that would be spent on this endeavor for the night. Again, he was given a baseball, and again he was poised for the perfect throw. He reached back to throw and-

 

The pyramid practically exploded with how suddenly and violently the milk bottles were scattered in all directions. “Oops,” Gelato muttered next to you, flashing a grin at your wide eyed expression. “Overkill?”

 

“You think?” you muttered back.

 

The barker was utterly dumbfounded as he stared at the spot where the milk bottles used to be, blinking slowly before turning back to Sorbet. “What did you-” he began.

 

“Our date would like that frog, if you’d be so kind,” Sorbet’s assertive voice called out, breaking the man out of his daze. The man had no way to explain what he saw, so he finally acquiesced and begrudgingly reached to grab the one prize he never had any intention of ever giving away.

 

You were positively euphoric. “His name is Sir Froggy and he’s my new best friend,” you said, leaning your face against his plush head. Sorbet and Gelato looked very pleased with themselves.

 

You couldn’t carry Sir Froggy in your state, so he was currently getting a piggyback ride from Gelato as you three headed for the ferris wheel. After you had put some distance between the three of you and the carnival booth, Gelato awkwardly tried to reach into his pocket while balancing the frog on his back. He pulled out some lira notes and flashed them in Sorbet’s direction. “The best part is Sir Froggy here only cost us the price of one round,” he purred before putting the money back.

 

You couldn’t bring yourself to scold him for stealing back his money, seeing as winning the frog hadn’t even been a possibility while the game had been rigged anyway. How could you be upset with that big squishy frog staring back at you so happily? You three saved Sir Froggy from his miserable old life, and you had convinced yourself that nothing in the quest to obtain him could possibly have been morally wrong. Well, short of beating the guy up.

 

The sun was finally close to setting and the sky was beautiful shades of orange, pink, and purple overhead. You all got in line and before you knew it you were at the front, being beckoned forth by an affable, if a bit tired looking, young man with a polite and professional smile. He was the staff member in charge of onloading, and with a slightly apologetic tone he said,  “I’m afraid you can’t take that frog with you. I’d be happy to watch it though. It would probably be safer and less cramped inside the cabin if I held on to your crutches and bag too.”

 

Gelato looked pretty reluctant to put Sir Froggy in someone else’s care. “Nothing bad better happen to this frog, do you understand?” Gelato asked the attendant, deadly serious.

 

“Take very good care of him,” Sorbet added firmly.

 

The attendant let out a small nervous laugh at what he assumed was a joke, but the two of them continued to look very serious, and he faltered. “Y-yes, right. Of course.”

 

“Oh, leave him alone you two,” you chastised. “Froggy will be fine.” The attendant looked grateful for you stepping in and took Froggy and your backpack, and after you sat down in the cabin, your crutches. While he helped make sure the three of you were settled, though, Gelato stuck his index and middle fingers out towards his own eyes, then towards the direction of the nervous staff member. ‘I’m watching you,’ he mouthed. You slapped his knee to get him to stop tormenting the poor man. Once the door was closed you were off.

 

“Thanks for taking me here, you two,” you said as your cabin gained some height, staring out at the lights on the sidewalk and the neon of the signs slowly flickering on as the sun fell ever lower on the horizon. Gelato was sitting across from you and Sorbet, staring out his own window. While you would have liked to all sit together the attendant had been very clear about keeping your weight evenly distributed so as not to tilt the compartment. “For winning me a frog… and taking me to lunch and ice cream… and, uh…”

 

“Satiating your ravenous craving for pasta men?” Gelato asked, turning towards you.

 

“Don’t talk about them like that,” you replied with a pout, turning to face him as well. “They’re not food.”

 

“Thank you for coming with us,” Sorbet said at your side, and you turned to see him flashing you a smile. You had seen him smile so often today that it no longer felt strange seeing it on his face. He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close, and you leaned against him.

 

You breathed in the smell of Sorbet’s cologne as you nuzzled closer against him, bringing your hand over to his free hand, stroking your fingers gently over the hair on his forearm. You would be running your fingers through his chest hair too, but even with your lowered inhibitions you weren’t so shameless. Maybe later, back at the base…

 

“Does that mean this date was a success?” you asked, stretching your good leg out to touch the side of Gelato’s leg across from you.

 

“Do you even have to ask?” Gelato said with a scoff. “We got that frog, didn’t we?”

 

“You know what I mean,” you murmured.

 

“Gelato and I would love to take you out again,” Sorbet’s deep voice rumbled as he leaned down next to your ear, and you shivered just a little. He wrapped his arm a little tighter around you. “And again, and again, if that’s what you wanted.”

 

You leaned out of his grasp to look him directly in the eyes. They were so intense and earnest, the brown so bright and warm in the light of the setting sun. You turned over to Gelato who was leaning back comfortably in his seat, looking at you with tenderness and just a bit of longing.

 

You turned back to Sorbet, and your gaze drifted down to his black lips. Sorbet had never kissed anyone other than Gelato, and while Gelato had kissed many people it had never meant anything until he kissed Sorbet. You had never kissed anyone, but you couldn’t think of someone more fitting for the honor than Sorbet.

 

You brought your hands up to the side of his head, just staring at his lips, and you could feel his gaze on yours as well. He had to know what you were thinking, but neither of you moved. Your heart was beating so fast, and your face was on fire. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Even without leaning any closer it was almost too much for you to be in his arms like this, and your stomach was twisting in tight knots as you tried your best to remember how to breathe. When you tried to take a deep breath to steady yourself you were once again dizzy from the scent of his cologne.

 

You both finally moved closer, and your eyes fluttered shut.

 

You could always tell his lips were probably a bit rougher than Gelato’s soft looking ones, although the creamy texture of his lipstick compensated for that now. You could feel it rub off as the two of you pressed your lips together. It was one firm kiss, deep but short, before he pulled back to look at you. Your lips were tingling, and you pressed them together unconsciously in response to feeling the lipstick he left behind. He was looking at you with half closed eyes, lost in his own thoughts, staring at your mouth now pigmented with physical proof that your lips had met.

 

His eyes darted back up towards yours and when you met his gaze you saw them flash with passion and something you could only describe as hunger. Soon he was pulling you back for more, and these ones were even deeper, longer, more eager than the first one had been. Even now, as passionate as it felt, he still came at it with that same level of thoroughness and sense of purpose that he did with anything else. He kissed you for just long enough to almost satisfy you before pulling away and kissing somewhere else, your cheek, your jaw, and just before the absence of his lips on yours was too much and you’d whine, he’d return again. You could tell he wanted to go further when he gave tiny nips at tender spots on your skin, only to restrain himself and pull back. Although the thought of him eventually using his teeth or covering you with hickeys made you feel lightheaded, you appreciated his gentleness and slowness for your first kiss. Anything more than this right now and you would be too overstimulated to exist in this moment.

 

Eventually the two of you pulled away and while the pace was leisurely enough not to get you panting, your breathing was still a bit shaky from the raw emotions bubbling over in you. His lipstick was smudged at the corners of his mouth and the black had lost a lot of its vividness. He took your hand and brought it up to kiss your knuckles again, right over the almost-faded lipstick mark of where he had kissed you earlier today. Then he kissed it a few more times, covering your hands in light black lip marks. You blushed realizing just how many of those were on your face right now, no doubt much darker than the ones on your hand.

 

Gelato politely waited for the two of you to have your moment together before he finally called out in a cloyingly sweet trill: “Aren’t you two just the cutest?”

 

Your eyes lingered just a moment longer on Sorbet’s eyes before your head lazily turned away to meet Gelato’s. Your eyes were half lidded, your face was flushed, and your lips were slightly parted as you tried to steady your breathing. You gave him a puckish smile and a tiny chuckle. “You’re next, handsome.”

 

You were going to try to maneuver yourself over to his side but he beat you to it, plopping down next to you and pushing you harder against Sorbet. The cabin did feel like it swayed, if only a bit, and you knew that it probably took a lot more than this to actually cause any safety concerns, seeing as the maximum occupancy for one of these things was six people, but you still didn’t want to get in trouble for all three of you being on one side. Before you could vocalize any of your complaints Gelato was cupping your cheeks in his hands, giving them a little squeeze and making you puff out your lips. You glared at him and he gave a short hyena laugh as he looked down at you fondly.

 

“Oh, I can’t help squishing this cute little face of yours,” he teased. “Not when you’re all marked up by Sorbet like that.”

 

You just blushed harder, and although you couldn’t move your face with it caught between his hands like this you did avert your gaze downwards. You’d quip back at him, but with your cheeks being squeezed like this you knew your voice would just come out silly and you didn’t want to give him any more ammo. After looking you over a bit more he finally let go, and you rubbed your cheeks and grumbled under your breath.

 

“You’re really something special,” Gelato murmured, almost to himself, before he called to Sorbet behind you without his eyes moving from your face, “How did we get so lucky, hm?” Sorbet gave a deep hum in agreement. Gelato reached out one hand towards your face, slowly and carefully so you could watch it and know he wasn’t going to squeeze your cheeks again. He brought the hand up to your head and gently stroked your hair, tilting his head a bit with a dreamy expression on his face. “Maybe Mr. Gee-Oh-Dee up there hasn’t turned his back on us just yet, huh? You know, I didn’t believe in angels, but I think I’m starting to…” He gave a devilish smirk and stuck his tongue out at you like you had done so many times to him. He said the last bit with as much irony as he could muster, passing it off as something on the same vein as a terrible pick-up line, but you could tell there was something genuine in his tone that made your heart flutter.

 

“Oh, stop it,” you said under your breath, avoiding his eyes, fighting a smile.

 

Sorbet chuckled behind you. “Our sweet angel is so easily flustered,” he said, his low teasing voice so close to your ear. Your breath hitched, and you felt giddy beyond words as you buried your face in your hands. While Gelato had called you darling and dear many times before, this was the first time Sorbet had ever used a pet name for you.

 

“Careful, Sorbet. Don’t forget how vain our sweet angel over here is. Stroke that ego anymore and I think they’ll explode,” Gelato teased. While he was dreadfully correct about you loving all the attention and compliments despite your outward bashfulness, you wanted him to shut up and kiss you.

 

Sorbet gave a low hum at that. “If anyone deserves to be a bit vain it’s them.”

 

“Oh, and I don’t?” Gelato asked with a smirk, his eyes finally leaving you to look at Sorbet.

 

“You work hard for that privilege,” Sorbet responded with a scolding click of his tongue.

 

“Aaaa!” came your frustrated whining as you peeked out from between your fingers. “Gelato, please, just kiss me already!”

 

Gelato’s eyes widened a bit in surprise at your directness as his gaze returned to you, but he soon flashed you a smug smile. “See what I mean? I don’t pay attention to you for two seconds and-”

 

You reached out and grabbed his face, pressing your lips against his. He was momentarily frozen before he processed what was going on and despite your initial boldness you let out a small “eep!” when instead of letting you back away he held you closer and deepened the kiss. It was passionate, yes, but nothing like the gentle and precise way Sorbet had kissed you. Gelato had no moderation, and his kisses were frantic and sloppy. Yes, he tasted a little bit like mouthwash, and yes, his kisses burned, but it probably wasn’t from any chemical treatment, just the pure electricity he was radiating. And most importantly of all, his lips were just as soft as you had always imagined they would be, and focusing on the way they felt as they captured yours over and over again allowed you to ignore just how messy of a kisser he was. You were finally able to pull away for a moment and when you met his eyes they were just as hungry as Sorbet’s had been, but far more wild, and they definitely held the promise of mischief.

 

“God, you’re so hot,” he said, wiping some saliva off of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve told you you’re hot when you’re feisty, haven’t I?”

 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, wiping the spit off your own mouth. As much as you had enjoyed the kiss and hadn’t minded it being a bit wet while you were still in the middle of it, now that you had paused you had to get rid of the gross wet stickiness from your face. A smirk found its way onto your lips. “And you’re hot when you’re not talking.”

 

“And also when I am, I imagine,” he said smugly, although he didn’t have much else to say before his lips were back on yours.

 

His fingers were tangled in your hair, messing it up as he kissed you more vigorously this time. Whereas Sorbet had been more conscious and deliberate in how he kissed you, Gelato was motivated more by instinct, and boy were Gelato’s instincts all over the place. He wasn’t rough with you, he had at least enough restraint to not use his teeth on purpose, but he was far from delicate as your teeth would often clash together by accident anyway.

 

You knew he could kiss slow and sensually; you had seen him kiss Sorbet like a normal human being many times before. But maybe Sorbet had less patience for this than you did, and Gelato wanted to get a reaction from you, as was usually the case. You don’t know what he had been hoping for, but you definitely gave him something. You started to match his intensity, pressing against his mouth as much as he was pressing against yours, noses hitting each other uncomfortably before you both readjusted.

 

He started peppering quick sloppy kisses all over your face, down your neck and back up it, quick intense pecks on your cheeks and nose and forehead, leaving just a bit too much wetness behind. You just started laughing, and you kissed him back just as sloppy, and slowly your intense and slightly aggressive make-out session became something a bit more playful and almost a bit silly.

 

“Mwah!” You repeated as you kissed him over and over. You ran your fingers through his soft golden locks as you squeezed him tight in your arms.

 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Gelato kept muttering between laughs quietly as he kissed you over and over as well. “So sweet, such a fucking nerd, so damn cute…” You playfully nibbled lightly on his cherry tomato nose and he just laughed harder, slowly ramping back up into his hyena laughter. “What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Eating your nose,” you replied, giving it a few more kisses before pulling away. He just leaned in to follow after you, doing the same thing to your nose. You pushed him off you. “Ew, gross!” You wiped your nose off with your sleeve.

 

“Yeah, that’s what it feels like!” Gelato said, his laugh a bit indignant. He tried to lean in to give you another kiss on the lips, but you just stuck your tongue out, and he recoiled when his lips met it. He gave you an impish smirk before he held up his fingers in a crab claw pincher motion, slowly and almost robotically bringing it closer to your mouth. “I told you what happens next, didn’t I?”

 

Your tongue went back in as you covered your mouth with your hands. “Noooo, your hands are dirty!” your muffled voice yelled. His shrill laugh rang out again as he lowered his hand.

 

“You two are too much,” came Sorbet’s amused and slightly exasperated voice from behind you. When you turned around he was staring at you with a bemused expression.

 

“I almost forgot you were there,” you said with a sheepish laugh. His eyes narrowed at that, flashing with something almost dark.

 

“Well... that won’t do at all,” Sorbet chided with a smirk, reaching up to grip your chin. He leaned in to kiss you again, a little harder than he had before, but still just as firm and controlled.

 

“Hey, we’re not done over here!” Gelato turned your head back towards him and gave you another kiss, a bit more restrained and tender than his other ones.

 

Pretty soon you were being pulled in both directions, kissed by the two of them over and over, and when you needed a moment to collect yourself they’d kiss each other while you watched. You’d seen them kiss in front of you before (who in La Squadra hadn’t seen them kiss?), but this was different. This was the type of fervent and heated intimacy they wouldn’t let anyone else see, only each other.

 

And you.

 

Even though you had just been on the receiving end of this from the both of them there was something surreal about seeing it done from the outside. If you had seen this before tonight you would have felt like you were intruding on something, that you had made a mistake in agreeing to go out with them. But right now you could only watch with rapt attention, each time before their arms and lips returned to yours, and you knew without a doubt that you could love these men.

 

Eventually after the ferris wheel made its full trip around you were greeted by the sight of the attendant on the other side of the cabin doors, who just stared at you three awkwardly, covered in lipstick with your hair completely disheveled, before looking away and stepping aside to let you off. You knew he probably wanted to say something about the three of you not heeding his warning about all being on the same side, but perhaps he realized that it was easier to let it go. 




 

Later at night, laying back in your bed in Sorbet and Gelato’s room in the dark, you realized pretty quickly that sharing a bed with Sir Froggy was not going to work out for you. He was simply too big, and although you should have left him on the desk chair or even the floor, another idea came to mind.

 

“Hey, guys?” your voice called out into the dark. Sorbet let out a low hum in recognition. “Um… Sir Froggy is taking up a lot of room on the bed. I’d feel kind of bad waking him up and kicking him out,” you murmured, a bit playfully but also with a tinge of embarrassment for how blatant you were being. “I know there’s not a lot of room over there either, but…”

 

“Oh, just get over here, you dweeb,” Gelato called back with a taunting laugh.

 

You slid out of bed and used the bed frame to support yourself as you hopped on your good foot across the small gap, then pulled yourself up onto their bed. The three of you shifted around until you were crammed between the two of their warm bodies. Gelato’s arms wrapped around you from behind as you buried yourself in Sorbet’s chest, your fingers finally tangling into his chest hair as you nuzzled closer.

 

Honestly, this was clearly way worse than sleeping with a giant bulky stuffed animal in your own bed, and now you were inflicting your problem onto two other people as well. Of course the three of you knew that this was impractical, too uncomfortable with the size of the bed and too hot in the heat of summer, even with an air conditioner in the base...

 

But the three of you didn’t care, and soon you were all asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Chapter 28: Transmutation at a Distance

Summary:

They're really going to do it, aren't they?

Notes:

Hey everyone! I come bearing gifts. I drew a few things for all of my lovely readers!

Here is Sorbet and Gelato in their date outfits.

And here is some doodles of things Reader drew + what if Sir Froggy was even BIGGER.

Also while you're on my blog checking those out, my requests are open! :^)

I recently posted a Hot Pants x Nonbinary Reader oneshot, so check that out too if you want!

Chapter Text

You had two boyfriends.

 

It was surreal. Last night’s date felt like a dream, but this morning you had woken up between the two of them, and upon glancing over to your own bed the friendly face of a gentleman frog stared back, confirming everything was indeed real.

 

He even looked a bit like he was about to wink at you. ‘Those two men sure fancy you. I dare say this courtship ritual was a sweeping success, eh chum?’ You just rolled your eyes at him.

 

Upon feeling you shift in bed, Gelato’s arms wrapped around you with a firmer grip, although it was clear he was still asleep. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to move until the two of them woke up, you drifted back to sleep yourself.

 

When you woke up again several hours later you were tucked in under the covers in an otherwise empty bed. You were pretty impressed with their ability to get out of the bed without waking you up. They had said something about having work later in the day, but you thought you’d at least wake up early enough to see them off. Still, it meant a lot that they hadn’t wanted to disturb your sleep.

 

After getting your day started and grabbing yourself some breakfast you noticed your friends slowly starting to gravitate towards your spot at the kitchen table. It started with Formaggio silently plopping down next to you with a newspaper, giving you knowing glances every now and again while you narrowed your eyes at him. Pesci had also joined you and he was trying to keep a big smile off his face as best as he could while he pretended to be more interested in his phone than you, but he’d keep stealing glances at you as well. After Ghiaccio had realized that you were awake he started looking through the pantries in an effort to hide the fact he was waiting to listen in on any conversations that happened to spring up.

 

When Illuso sat down across from you and leaned forward with both of his palms on the table, his eyes demanding your attention, you finally spoke. “Something up Illuso?” you asked, as innocently as you could.

 

“You have to tell me everything,” he said, leaning even farther forward.

 

“Did you kiss them?” Pesci let slip out, a bit wistfully.

 

“Gelato was covered in lipstick marks,” Illuso said firmly, as if giving evidence in court. “Their face was clean.”

 

“They’d never walk around like that as shamelessly as Gelato would,” Formaggio said. “Are you three, like, official now?”

 

“Well…” you began.

 

You were pretty tired when the three of you (or four, counting Sir Froggy) finally arrived home, although you had expected at least a few of them to be waiting in the living room to start grilling you all with questions as soon as you all walked in. And sure enough Formaggio, Illuso, and Ghiaccio were all up late and ready to pounce as soon as the door opened.

 

Sorbet had cleaned up and reapplied his lipstick properly and you had tried your best to wipe off the lipstick marks all over your face but you were thankful for the dark as you knew you hadn’t gotten everything. Gelato hadn’t even tried cleaning himself off so your activities for the night were loudly broadcasted by him despite your best efforts.

 

Sorbet shot them a look that had them instantly quiet as the three of you made your way upstairs. It had been a great date, but while Gelato was still wide awake and you were content but not in the mood to be interrogated, Sorbet was absolutely exhausted by the idea of entertaining anyone right now.

 

But even as the three of you were winding down in their room, Gelato had proposed one more activity before you all slept.

 

“...Does this answer your question?” you said with a smirk as you held up your hand, which everyone finally processed as having fingernails painted dark teal.

 

Ghiaccio didn’t even make an attempt to hide how suddenly he spun around to look at whatever you were showing everyone else. Illuso’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.

 

“They let Pesci wear that color once before,” he offered as some sort of rebuttal. He had to eliminate all doubt.

 

“But did they both paint his hands themselves?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

 

“You’ve painted Pesci’s nails yourself before,” Ghiaccio interjected.

 

“Am I being cross examined here?” you said with a pout. “Do you not trust me to know the status of my own relationship?”

 

“Did they need you there as an alibi for something?” Illuso asked, although he seemed less serious that time and he was probably just trying to tease you now.

 

“You’re being mean,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him before a smile creeped onto your face. “Crimes were committed, though.”

 

“Those bastards!” Ghiaccio grumbled under his breath.

 

“Yeah, I’m an accessory to petty theft. Take a look,” you said, your hand waving towards the fridge. Everyone was so wrapped up in you none of them had seen the five pasta men now adorning the fridge door.

 

“What the fuck.” Ghiaccio sounded almost affronted by their existence.

 

“They’re cute,” you said, your smile only growing.

 

“Was that frog stolen too?” Formaggio asked with a chuckle.

 

“Sir Froggy was…” You paused for a moment. “... Liberated .”

 

“Sounds like quite the night,” Pesci added with a snicker.

 

“It really was,” you confirmed with a dreamy sigh.






Things at La Squadra’s base in the wake of your new relationship were different, or at least that’s what you had assumed at first. It almost seemed like the kind of emotional distance between the team and Sorbet and Gelato was seeping into their interactions with you. You were worried you were just projecting, but it was hard not feeling awkward when Sorbet and Gelato would often be absent on missions for days at a time. While your budding relationship flourished during the times they were home there were a lot of nights when you slept in their room alone.

 

You eventually voiced your concerns to Formaggio who seemed a bit surprised you came to that conclusion.

 

“I mean, everyone was certainly shocked at first, but we’re all starting to accept it as normal. It certainly hasn’t changed the way we feel about you,” he began, scratching his head awkwardly.

 

“Then why do you look so nervous telling me that?” you said, frowning at him as you narrowed your eyes.

 

“Listen… it’s not you. It’s not even them. We’re just all… busy lately,” he said, unable to meet your eyes.

 

It’s true that Sorbet and Gelato weren’t the only ones going on lots of missions lately. Illuso and Risotto Nero had also been away from the base for extended periods of time, and while the others went out less frequently you still noticed an increase in their workload.

 

“Is the Boss giving you lots of work right now?”

 

“You could certainly say that…” Formaggio muttered quietly under his breath. He then turned his gaze even farther away from your direction.

 

Wait a second. Gelato the information broker… Illuso the spy… the Capo who can turn invisible…

 

“You guys are really doing it, aren’t you!?” you yelled and Formaggio’s head whipped back around as he tried to cover your mouth with his hand before you squirmed away.

 

“Shhhh! Keep your voice down!” he whispered harshly. His eyes pleaded with you as he scratched at himself more, his nervousness on full display. “You can’t tell them I let it slip, please, Capo will be real mad.”

 

“You can’t go after him!” you said, trying to keep your voice down as best as you could with how upset you were.

 

“I’m not exactly happy about it either, but that’s where we’re at,” Formaggio said, followed with a long exhale. “Ghiaccio finally buried his pride long enough to get in on it, and it’s been moving forward ever since.”

 

You weren’t exactly sure what to say other than pleading with him to tell Risotto to back off, but you just bit your lip and waited for him to continue.

 

“I wish that he would have waited until you were healed up and out of here,” he continued with a frustrated expression. “But Gelato stumbled on something big a while back, and it looks like it’s actually paying off. Capo thinks if we don’t act now we’ll never get another chance like this.”

 

“Do you… think it will work? Is it a good enough lead?” you asked, tapping your fingers together. “Be honest.” He finally turned back to look at you, rubbing his hand down his face as he took a second to think.

 

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “But it’s a better lead than anyone has ever had. If there’s really something to finally topple the Boss’s criminal empire, it’s this.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“I’ve already told you way more than I should.” He put his arm on your shoulder and gave you a small smile. “Look, I’m not going to say don’t say anything, but at least pretend you figured what’s going on by yourself, alright?”

 

“Don’t worry,” you murmured, starting to get lost in your own thoughts.

 

“Not the best time to enter a relationship, huh?” Formaggio tried to give you a sympathetic look as he patted your back a few times. “They’re smart, they’ll stay safe. Don’t worry about those two. They’ve escaped certain death more times than I can count.”

 

The use of the phrase “certain death” in reference to current events didn’t help your anxiety much.






“So… everyone’s out on missions a lot lately.” You were seated in front of Sorbet on his bed while he brushed your hair for you. Gelato’s head was resting in your lap. “You two especially.”

 

“Sorry darling, I know it’s not ideal,” Gelato said, looking up at you with a lazy grin. “We miss you tons.”

 

“Is something… going on?” you tried, a bit tentative.

 

“Something like what?” Sorbet’s chest rumbled with his deep voice as you leaned back to peer up at him.

 

“I don’t know… I’ve just noticed everyone is a lot more… on edge around me. You don’t think it’s our relationship, do you?” you mused out loud, trying to sound as clueless as possible.

 

Sorbet gave a low hum and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “What would that have to do with us getting more missions?”

 

You supposed your logic as you presented it wasn’t entirely sound. “I mean, I don’t think they’re related…” you corrected. “I’ve just noticed both started happening at the same time is all.”

 

“Formaggio blabbed, didn’t he?” Gelato said matter-of-factly.

 

“No!” you said, a bit too quickly. Shit. “About… about what?” But your flustered response had already completely given you away.

 

“You’ve been looking at my corkboard a lot more recently,” he said, pointing over at the tangled mess of red string and photos next to your bed. “Like, actively. You’ve been actually reading the articles I stick on there.”

 

“That’s not the Boss corkboard,” Sorbet added. “The Boss corkboard is way bigger.”

 

“Who said anything about the Boss?” you said with a pout, as if you could still salvage anything. You sighed and deflated a bit. “Don’t get Maggi in trouble, please.”

 

“He can get himself into trouble on his own just fine,” Gelato said with a chuckle. “But because he’s one of your BFFs four ever , my lips are zipped.” The way he said the ‘for’ in forever was stilted and drawn out, and despite your seriousness on the matter at hand you did laugh a little. It didn’t seem like he was making a play on words for any particular reason, just saying weird shit for the sake of it like always.

 

“You’re afraid,” Sorbet said, his hand coming up to your jaw to tilt your head back to look at him. “That’s understandable. But just know a large amount of the work that the Capo has us doing involves planning contingencies for your safety.”

 

“You think it’s just me I’m afraid for?” you asked sadly. Sorbet kissed your forehead again and Gelato grabbed one of your hands to give it a squeeze.

 

“That guy at the restaurant who attacked everyone was a fluke. I’ve been covering all my tracks to the point of being over-cautious. Everyone else is taking it seriously too,” Gelato assured you. He sounded so confident, so sure that everything was going to work out, and you wanted more than anything to believe him.

 

“Right now is too early to show our hand, but if we get a definitive advantage then it won’t be just us taking him on,” Sorbet said, rubbing your shoulder gently. “There’s no shortage of people who hate the Boss and would jump at any chance to settle a grudge. Oddly enough, there’s plenty of idealists with a sense of honor in Passione, too.”

 

“Naive saps like that probably wouldn’t have lined up behind the old Rizzie,” Gelato said, his thumb stroking your hand. “But a post-you Rizzie? Now there’s a guy with conviction and integrity.”

 

“You don’t think you’re overstating my influence just a tad?” you grumbled.

 

“Well, of course none of us are exactly saints,” Sorbet said with a scoff. “But Risotto is doing this for everyone in his family, you included.”

 

“Grad school here I come,” you said with feigned enthusiasm.

 

“Come on, since when are you the cynic?” Gelato asked, removing his head from your lap and sitting up. “Not everything is about the money.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that , Gelato,” Sorbet interjected with his lips pressed together in a thin line. But the softness in his eyes told you he agreed with his boyfriend.

 

Gelato rolled his eyes. “Okay, with Sorbet it is about the money. But the rest of us have got you on our mind constantly in the middle of this.”

 

“If they’re being cold towards you right now it’s because they love you,” Sorbet said, putting both of his hands on your shoulders, urging you to turn around. With some maneuvering of your leg you were facing him. He cupped your face in his hand. “As do we.”

 

Gelato’s arms wrapped around you from behind as he leaned in to rest his head on your shoulder. “There’s no way any of us are going to croak any time soon. You can’t get rid of us that easily,” he said, kissing your temple.

 

Soon Sorbet was leaning forward to kiss your lips as Gelato’s kisses trailed tenderly down your neck. They were trying to push your doubts out of your mind, get your thoughts on something else, soothe your worries in the best way they knew how. Soon the three of you were tangled up in each other, a level of neediness present from all the time you had been spending apart recently, and you had been turned back around to kiss Gelato while Sorbet nipped gently on your ear.

 

You tried your best to lose yourself in the moment, but through it all you could only keep thinking about how much you wished Gelato was right.

Chapter 29: Xenolinguistics

Summary:

You're being relocated.

Notes:

I'm sorry for the long wait, I know I spoiled everyone by updating like twice in one day when I was still early on in this fic.

Very fluffy chapter! I put in some scenes of characters that I haven't given enough attention to!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was hard to believe that almost three months had passed since you shot yourself in the leg and started living at La Squadra’s base. It hadn’t been quite the summer vacation you were envisioning, but while you and your friends didn’t soak up the sun too much, you couldn’t say it had been all that bad. You did get a two for one deal in the romance department.

 

But even with your blossoming relationship to distract you, it was hard to keep pretending like everything was business as usual with everyone. There was no more plausible deniability about the fact that something was going on behind the scenes that you were not privy to. At the very least they were putting less effort into being so emotionally distant; their escalating physical distance more than made up for it. There were days when the base would be deserted save for one member whose main job was probably just keeping an eye on you.

 

When you finally had a doctor’s appointment set to get your leg appraised, with the promise that if everything looked good you’d finally be back on your feet, Risotto’s immediate response was to ask to speak with you in his office. You had been expecting a meeting with him to come eventually, and it seemed like this finally gave him a good opportunity.

 

“I believe it’s in your best interest that we relocate you,” Risotto said firmly, getting straight to the point. “Hopefully you’re on your feet again before we do, but it’s happening regardless.”

 

“Does this mean things are going good or bad?” you asked, head resting on your fist as you leaned on his desk.

 

Risotto gave a quiet huff, although his expression remained unchanged. “What ‘things’ are you referring to, specifically?”

 

“Is your lead on the Boss going anywhere, or did you run into trouble?” you asked, tapping the fingers of your other hand on the desk’s surface. Everyone knew that you knew that something was going on, even if you weren’t supposed to know it was related to the Boss. But at this point, even if Formaggio and your boyfriends hadn’t told you, it would be obvious.

 

“Fine. I won’t insult you by ignoring it. I’m sure you could have figured it out on your own, you’re smart.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Still, though, if someone did tell you…”

 

“Nope,” you said with a forced smile that quickly fell back into a frown as you avoided his gaze. “Please answer my question…”

 

“Things are going well,” he said, and you did feel a bit relieved even if you tried not to show it. “But I don’t want to proceed any further until you’re somewhere safe. I’m sure Sorbet and Gelato have already talked to you about housing arrangements once school starts up again for you?”

 

“They invited me to live at their apartment,” you mumbled. Risotto nodded.

 

“I’ve talked it over with them, and I am in agreement that it’s the safest option for you. There’s no paper trail connecting them to the location, and the layout of the neighborhood and complex makes tailing someone difficult. They typically use a back entrance to enter and exit the place. Those two take their home’s security and their anonymity outside of La Squadra very seriously.” His eyes narrowed a bit and he looked off to the side. “Almost all of the time, anyway.”

 

“Gelato says the restaurant incident was a fluke,” you offered in his defense with a shrug.

 

“I believe that night he also said that the reason it happened was because you’re a bad influence,” he added, his smirk growing.

 

“I can only hope so,” you said with a small smile, watching your twiddling thumbs.

 

“You’re a terrible influence on us all,” Risotto said, his usual monotone traded out for that rare tenderness. When you turned back to look at him he was smiling. He stared at you like that for a moment before he reached out his hand, and you tentatively reached out yours, unsure what he wanted exactly. He took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

 

“I gave Gelato a genuine apology yesterday,” he said, and you tilted your head a bit to the side in confusion. His eyes drifted away from yours, and his smile fell. “About what I did to his throat. The apology you made me give him a while back didn’t cut it for me. I’ve always relied on discipline like that to maintain respect. Ruling by fear was the first lesson I was taught when I joined Passione.”

 

He turned back to look at your hand in his, still unable to meet your eyes. “But I love my family, and I don’t want to hurt the people I love. As the Capo it’s my duty to do right by them, and for a long time I thought that just meant securing better pay and more territory. Keeping them safe has always been in the back of my mind, but it didn’t feel realistic.” His eyes finally snapped to yours and you shivered at the cold fire behind them. “But even that is too low a standard. For La Squadra, for you, for this entire God forsaken mafia… I’ll kill the Boss, whatever it takes. I’ll secure a future where my family isn’t just surviving. I want to see them the way they are with you, all the time. I want to see them living.”

 

‘We had all accepted this life. We had no reason to regret it. Until we met you.’ Formaggio’s words from the night you spent in his home echoed in your mind. ‘Dying means something now. Living means something now.’ You had never wanted La Squadra to go after the Boss, and the idea still terrified you more than anything. But Gelato was right, this was about more than just the money, and you finally understood why it mattered so much to Risotto Nero.

 

You squeezed his hand, and he was brought back to the moment as his expression softened. You bit your lip a bit, trying to steel yourself for what you wanted to say. “I’m… not going to see everyone for a while after I’m gone, am I?” Your voice only wavered a bit, and you let out a slow exhale.

 

“I expect that will be the case,” Risotto said, no effort to disguise the melancholy in his voice. But you smiled at him. One of your big bright smiles as you spoke your next words with pure confidence.

 

“You’ll kill the Boss. I know it. I believe in you, Capo.” He gave a gentle laugh at you calling him that, different from his usual cynical chuckles, and wiped away at a lone tear at the corner of his eye that threatened to run down his face.






It was all out in the open now, and since your departure had a set date for later in the week everyone dropped their aloof acts immediately. Whenever they weren’t busy they were spending all their time with you, like they might never see you again once you left. Which was a possibility that no one wanted to acknowledge out loud.

 

Still, you managed to get in a lot of nice one-on-one time with everyone.

 

“This was their evil plan all along,” Illuso complained as you braided his hair. It had been a while since you’d done it, and you missed your gossip sessions with him. “They come back after a long absence pretending they want nothing to do with you, then snatch you up at the last second to get you all to themselves.”

 

“Sounds like you’re going to miss me,” you teased.

 

“Of course I’m going to miss you,” Illuso said with a sigh, peering over his shoulder at you sitting behind him, causing the current braid you were working on to slip out of your fingers. “Before you showed up it was hard to get an intellectual conversation from any of these halfwits.”

 

“Don’t be mean,” you said with a huff.

 

“Or that, right there. Even just a shred of compassion,” Illuso continued, turning around fully to face you. “You haven’t seen us at our absolute worst.”

 

“You were pretty awful when I first met you.”

 

“I know,” Illuso said, flashing you a small smirk. “What I’m saying is that for a long time the extent of my meaningful interactions with everyone was making fun of them behind their backs with Formaggio. And then making fun of Formaggio behind his back when he wasn’t around.”

 

“I fail to see how that’s any different from now,” you said with a chuckle, but you stopped when he looked at you with a serious expression.

 

“I never used to be able to talk to these guys like a real person. I’d watch everyone from the mirror world, watch them being real people with each other. Watch them being real people alone. If I didn’t have any missions, sometimes I’d watch them for days and they’d never know I was at the base. I eventually felt like I knew more about them than I knew about myself. I knew all these things about them that replaced the need for actual relationships, but I still desperately wanted to feel like I wasn’t just watching. So I used what I learned the only way I knew how.”

 

“Making fun of them?” you asked quietly with a gentle smile.

 

“Heh, yeah. I started to feel like I was actually a part of the lives I watched, even if I had to hurt them to feel it. Saying something that would upset them for hours after the fact… feeling like I was having an effect on the world around me, even if it was for the worst… it was the closest I’d ever gotten to intimacy.” He tilted his head to rest on his shoulder, bringing a hand to run through his unbraided hair. “Then one of us died.” He closed his eyes. “And I realized how much I’d come to love these people.”

 

“Illuso…” You weren’t exactly sure what to say, but you set a hand gently on his knee in an expression of comfort.

 

He opened his eyes and tilted his head in the opposite direction to rest on his other shoulder. “Everything after that was so miserable. I think we all realized how important we were to each other, but we were all too afraid to say it. Pesci was the first to bounce back and actually make an active effort to pick up the broken pieces. We ended up following his lead, and meanwhile, little did we know…” he trailed off, sitting up straight before tapping your nose with his pointer finger, “he was following yours.”






There was a point during the week when Prosciutto, who you never spent much time with alone outside of helping him cook, came out of his room to sit with you on the couch as he flipped through a fashion magazine when the two of you were alone at the base together.

 

“Is there a reason you’re staring?” he asked, his eyes not leaving the magazine as he lounged back on the couch. Your eyes darted away.

 

“Sorry, I’m just not used to seeing you… so casual? You’re usually busy when I’m over,” you said. “Actually I think this is the first time I’ve been alone with you.”

 

“You help me cook all the time,” he said, flipping a page.

 

“I mean… alone alone. At the base alone, sharing space in our down time, not just… quietly chopping vegetables.”

 

“I can retire to my room if you’d prefer,” he said, lazily rolling his head to the side to meet your eyes.

 

“No! Come on, you know what I mean, right?” You gave him a pout.

 

Ever since Risotto had started opening up you were less intimidated by him. After you and Gelato had become friends you even felt confident enough to start being a bit silly and snarky around him, no longer afraid he secretly resented you.

 

But while Prosciutto never particularly scared you in the same way Risotto had, there had still always been a noticeable formality between the two of you. You wanted his respect and his approval, and you’d do anything to avoid his judgmental gaze being cast in your direction.

 

He gave a snide chuckle and turned back towards what he was reading. “I’m just teasing you. Of course I know I’m not exactly the most...” he trailed off, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought.

 

“Sympathetic?” you dared to supply, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

 

“Easygoing,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. His eyes were back in your direction, and although he gave an annoyed huff he had a small smirk of his own. “I hope you don’t think of me as heartless?”

 

“No,” you said, your smirk melting into a smile. “Well, not for a long time now at least. I’ve known you longer than anyone else here except Pesci. I’d like to think you like me at least a little bit.”

 

He closed his magazine and turned his entire body to face in your direction. “I’d like to be candid with you for a moment, if that’s alright.”

 

“Uh… sure,” you said, suddenly a bit nervous. Maybe you were wrong to tease him a bit.

 

“I always looked down on Pesci. I even thought of him as an embarrassment for a long time, with his sentimentality and his softness being his worst qualities.” He crossed his legs and clasped his hands together on top of his knee. “I thought under my guidance he’d gain the confidence and ruthlessness it took to survive this life, so I made him my personal project. But nothing I said ever seemed to get through to him.

 

“But slowly, I saw his confidence grow, and I thought perhaps my work was finally paying off, perhaps I had made a real man out of him yet. Perhaps this would be a man worthy of representing La Squadra di Esecuzione .” Prosciutto gave a thoughtful hum. “But he’s not a man, is he?”

 

“Only a little bit,” you said with a shrug.

 

“Well, at any rate, he’s not the man I wanted him to be.” He paused for a moment before he continued. “It didn’t take long to realize that he was no less sentimental or soft, despite his newfound confidence. In fact, he seemed to indulge even more in his bad habits, just without the good grace to be properly ashamed of it.”

 

“Yikes,” you said, rolling your eyes.

 

“I don’t feel like that anymore,” he clarified.

 

“I figured, but still. Yikes.”

 

“I know how callous it sounds, but I genuinely believed what I was doing was in his best interests. I thought that confidence and focus would come through emotional discipline and tough love. I didn’t want to see him chewed up and spit out by Passione. I thought I was protecting him. Despite how I come across, I do care about him deeply.”

 

By now Prosciutto was looking a little fidgety, the way he looked when he needed a smoke. He wasn’t used to talking to you like this.

 

“You gave him so much that I would have never been able to give him. You’ve made him genuinely happy.” He scoffed, and his gaze became a bit unfocused and distant. “Happy. That was never a priority for me. Confident. Efficient. Safe, if it was possible. But I never once thought about his happiness.” He leaned back on the couch and gave you a tired smile. “I’ve never once thought about my own, either. But I’m happy to know you. Proud to know you.”

 

You had no idea how much hearing Prosciutto of all people admit that he was proud of you would cause you to become a sobbing mess, but there you were, throwing your arms around him while he grumbled, trying to fall back into his aloof act.

 

“Not on the suit,” he mumbled, but instead of pushing you off he just patted your back.






Even Ghiaccio had been particularly sentimental and open, although he wasn’t quite so eloquent.

 

“It fucking sucks that you’re going to live with Sorbet and Gelato,” he muttered as you were sprawled out on the spare bed in his room, sorting through your possessions to get a head start on packing for your move. “I feel like we’ve barely done anything together since you started living here. Not to mention the fact that you ditched me.”

 

“I’ve told you I’m really sorry about that,” you said with a small laugh. “But you have been pretty emotionally unavailable ever since… back when this whole Boss thing started.”

 

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned up against the wall on his own bed. “Is it wrong for me to want to know when my Capo is putting your life on the line?” He seemed to process what he said after he had already said it, and he shut his eyes tight and pushed his glasses up a bit. “I meant to say my life, but there you go.”

 

You straightened your back and looked in his direction, setting down the books you were sorting through. “Is that really why you were so upset? I thought it was because…”

 

“My hurt pride? I mean, you’re not wrong,” he said, resting his head on a tight fist while he glared off to the side. “I’ve been saying we should go after the Boss for years and I’ve been told to keep quiet and calm down for just as many. So why then,” he said, gritting his teeth, “is it not taken seriously until after we actually have something to lose?”

 

“...Me?” you asked, mostly rhetorically since it was pretty clear.

 

He gave a loud exhale. “Logically, I get it. In the long run you’re going to be a lot safer living in Naples under our control. We’d have the resources and manpower to make sure that nothing like the shit that happened when you shot yourself ever happens again. But I still can’t help but worry, even after it’s all over…” He turned to shoot you an intense look, eyes soft but expression tense.

 

Whatever he had wanted to finish that sentence with, it was soon forgotten. Before you even realized it he had plopped down next to you on your bed, and gripped your shoulders firmly, looking you dead in the eyes.

 

“Listen. La Squadra is made up of the deadliest motherfuckers in all of fucking Italy, and of them? I am the strongest. I am the most powerful and most deadly man in Passione. Risotto recognizes that. The others don’t like to admit it, but they know it’s true. Do you remember when that rival gang attacked us?”

 

You weren’t sure how much of this was his inflated ego talking, but you knew there had to be some truth to it. While you had mostly seen the more mundane side of his stand in action you knew it had limits far beyond what you could conceive. You nodded your head slowly to show you acknowledged his question, in a bit of a daze from how his eyes were burning into yours.

 

“We were all there that night, the whole squad fought them. Aside from the guy who your boyfriends offed, there were eight others. Risotto killed two of them.” His grip tightened, just a little. “I killed six.”

 

You just stared at him, wide-eyed and a little dumbfounded. You weren’t exactly sure what he was trying to tell you.

 

“Risotto and Pesci have stands made for assassination. The others are great at their jobs too. We’re the best in the business.” Ghiaccio’s hands slipped off your shoulders, and he gestured with one of them to himself. “But me? When I get sent on a job to go after someone without a stand and I just kill a single target by… freezing his heart in his chest? It almost feels like a waste of time.”

 

His voice went a little lower as he finally broke his eyes away, looking down and burying his hand in his loose curls. “The Boss once offered me a position in his elite guard.”

 

“R-really?” you choked out.

 

“It was when the first pay cuts started, right after…” He grunted and gestured to the bed you were sitting on, the one that used to belong to someone else. “Well. I knew before anyone that La Squadra had fallen out of favor with the Boss, and I was offered the deal of a lifetime if I bailed.”

 

“But you didn’t,” you mumbled.

 

“Fuck no I didn’t! Piece of shit treats my family like garbage and expects to just buy my loyalty!?”

 

“Ghiaccio,” you said to try to get his attention.

 

“Cocky motherfucker thinks I’ll kiss his ass for the chance to be one of his shitty bodyguards!?”

 

“Ghia,” you tried again, hoping the nickname might catch his attention.

 

“Risotto fucking Nero works harder than anyone else in this entire goddamn organization!”

 

“Ghiaccio!” you hissed loudly through chattering teeth, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself.

 

“Fuck, sorry,” he grumbled before the temperature went back to normal. He sighed. “My point is…” he said, trailing off as he tried to actually remember what his point was. “The point is that even the Boss knows how bad I can fuck him up. And I’m going to. Because I am never, ever , going to let anyone hurt you, ever again.”

 

“I shot myself,” you reminded him with a half-smile in an effort to diffuse the heavy tension now in the air, but he just seemed to clench his jaw harder.

 

“I do mean anyone,” he said before hesitating for a moment. “There was no reason for Sorbet to give you a gun.” And another pause. “Will those two be able to keep you safe?”

 

Your immediate instinct was to assure him that they would, but you had trouble forming the words. Gelato’s stand didn’t have much offensive capability, and Sorbet didn’t have a stand at all. He was good with a gun which is why he felt offering you one was the only way he could protect you. You both regretted it, but you still didn’t blame him.

 

Ghiaccio seemed concerned by your silence.

 

“Look, I think it’s weird the three of you are a thing now. I was ready to never forgive Gelato for revealing his stand to you, even after you had already gotten over it. I’ll even admit I was a little sore about you taking their extra bed instead of mine.” He gritted his teeth harder and looked even farther from your direction. “With you close by I feel more confident I can keep you safe. I understand why you have to leave, but… I can’t help worrying. And,” he said, looking like he was almost hurting from how hard it was getting to talk, “I’ll miss hanging out with you.”

 

“Oh, Ghia… don’t be embarrassed. I’m going to miss you too,” you said, reaching out a hand to rub his shoulder gently. He leaned forward awkwardly and you realized he was going in for a hug, which you reciprocated.

 

“I can tell those two really care about you now, just like the rest of us. You’re happy with them too. I don’t understand why. Sorbet I get, I guess. Still, I’m glad. I just wish I trusted them with your safety as much as the Capo did.”

 

“When this is all over you can be a part of my elite guard. How does that sound?”

 

He scoffed. “As if La Squadra isn’t functionally that already.”

 

“Still… I had no idea you were so dangerous. Here I was thinking you were just our back-up air conditioning unit.” You leaned back out of his embrace and gave him a smirk.

 

“Fuck you.” His eyes narrowed, but you could tell he was relieved your teasing had given him something to get irritated at. You knew he could only take being vulnerable for so long before it became too overwhelming for him, so you gave him an out.






“I don’t know, I still think it’s a safer option,” Formaggio said with a smirk. He had jokingly proposed that you stay at his apartment instead, despite the lower security of it, saying that he’d buy a dollhouse for you and shrink you down. “No one would ever look for you there.”

 

“Maggi, that sounds a lot creepier out loud than it probably did in your head,” you said with a roll of your eyes, as you descended down the base’s stairs, sans crutches and with both your legs in use. You were moving the last of your personal possessions out to Sorbet’s car.

 

“Nah, it sounded pretty bad in my head too,” he confessed with a laugh, rubbing the back of his head as you passed by him at the bottom of the stairs. He followed after you out the front door. “I just can’t bear to not see you for so long. Do you think I’m allowed to stop by?”

 

“No can do, Maggio,” Gelato’s voice called from the back of Sorbet’s car, where he was loading up the trunk with your luggage with Pesci’s help. “The Ice Cream Boys’ Residence is going to stay La Squadra’s best kept secret, followed by the inside of our bedroom at the base.”

 

“I thought Sorbet’s stand was La Squadra’s biggest secret?” Formaggio said with a cheeky look on his face. Sorbet’s huff came from the opposite side of the car. Formaggio would have never been so bold before, but at your behest your friends and your boyfriends were reaching out to each other.

 

“Want to tussle and find out?” Sorbet’s deadpan called over. Formaggio looked to you, his eyes silently asking if he was serious or not, and when you just snickered he relaxed.

 

“Haha, nah,” Formaggio called back with an awkward laugh.

 

“Capo knows where you live though, right? For emergencies?” Pesci asked Gelato as he tried to make some more room in the trunk for the things you had just brought down.

 

“Oh yeah, most definitely. We even have a big red button we push that sends a beacon of light out into the sky to summon him,” he said with a smirk.

 

“...Really?” Pesci asked, his eyes narrowing as he pouted a bit, incredulous.

 

“What if it’s daytime?” Formaggio asked, genuinely.

 

Gelato just tried to hold back a mean laugh while Sorbet peeked over the top of the car.

 

“He knows where we live,” he confirmed, running a hand through his hair. “And he’s on speed dial.”

 

“If you guys really want to see them so bad then we’ll just all have to kill the Boss as quick as possible,” Gelato said, as he finally closed up the trunk once the last items were safely inside.

 

Sorbet and Gelato got in the car to get ready to go, but they knew you needed a moment to say the last of your goodbyes to your two best friends.

 

“You two text me whenever you’re not in the middle of something deadly,” you said, turning to face Formaggio and Pesci. “Tell everyone else to, as well.”

 

“It’s hard to remember a time before I knew you,” Pesci said with a wistful smile as he opened his arms for a hug.

 

“It’s only been a couple years,” you said as you embraced him. “Less for the others.”

 

“It feels like I’ve known you forever. I’m going to miss you so,” he started, squeezing you tight, lifting you up and spinning you around, causing you to yelp, “so so much!”

 

“Careful! The doctor doesn’t want any stress on my leg!” you whined, and he set you down gently, giving you an apologetic and bashful look.

 

“You’ve done so much for me. I really like the person I’ve become since knowing you,” he said, clasping his hands around yours.

 

“You were the one who did all the work to get here.”

 

“Yeah, but you helped. You were the one that helped me realize there was somewhere to actually get to.” He had a look of determination in his eyes. “I’ll be back in your life before you know it.”

 

“Come over here and give your other best friend some love!” you heard Formaggio whine next to you. You faced him, and despite your earlier warning about needing to be careful on your leg, you practically tackled him into a hug.

 

“Oh, I’ve missed hugging you like this without those crutches in the way,” he said, nuzzling his head into your shoulder. 

 

“You only like me for my cuddles,” you laughed, holding him tight against you. “I don’t know what you’ll do without me.”

 

“I’m sure Pesci will pick up the slack,” Formaggio said, squeezing you tight. You looked at Pesci over Formaggio’s shoulder, whose eyes were wide and whose face had turned bright red at Formaggio’s comment. You gave him a smirk and a wink and he just glared at you. He had yet to make a move on Formaggio, but you could tell his crush was getting bigger every day.

 

You held him for a while before you finally spoke again. “Formaggio,” you murmured in his ear, quietly, just for him to hear. “I know that you’re scared. I am too. But this is something that all of you are doing together. You’re all going to keep each other safe. I’m sure that you’ll be successful, I really believe it with all my heart. We’ll see each other again.” You loosened your hold in anticipation of backing up, but he just held you to him tighter.

 

“I know,” he whispered. “I believe it too.”

 

He finally let go and you smiled at both him and Pesci, before moving to place a kiss on each of their cheeks. “Take care of yourselves. Go get him.” You walked towards the passenger seat door before turning back and calling out, “And be quick about it, okay?”

 

As Sorbet started up the car you kept waving at Formaggio and Pesci until they were out of sight. While you were up front with Sorbet, Gelato was sitting in the back seat to keep Sir Froggy company. Like usual, he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and he kept leaning forward to talk to the two of you despite your complaints.

 

“Pesc and Maggi, huh? What an interesting combination,” Gelato said. You just shrugged. “It could be cute. But don’t let your guard down.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you said with a laugh.

 

“The three of us can’t lose our position as La Squadra’s cutest relationship to anyone,” he said, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

 

“Put your seatbelt on,” you said, shrugging his hand off of you.

 

He huffed and turned to give Sir Froggy an exasperated look. “They don’t make you wear a seatbelt.”

 

“It’ll squish him,” you said with a frown.

 

“Why do you think I don’t put the thing on? It’ll squish your soft mushy Gelato too,” he replied with a frown that was clearly competing with yours.

 

“Hmm, now I wish I was squishing my soft mushy Gelato,” you said with a playful smile aimed at the rearview mirror.

 

“I’m just glad we’ve got a bed over there that can actually fit all four of us,” Gelato said as he wrapped an arm around Sir Froggy.

 

“I don’t know how big your bed is, but I can’t imagine that actually working out,” you said doubtfully.

 

“Gelato can sleep on the couch then,” Sorbet said with a smirk. Both you and Sorbet got a good laugh out of that while Gelato grumbled in the back seat.

 

“Can you believe those two?” Gelato asked, turning towards the giant frog next to him.

 

In that moment it really felt like everything was going to work out just fine.

Notes:

We're close to the end folks. Thanks for all your support and kind words as I've worked on this. Your comments always brighten my day.

Chapter 30: Sapir-Whorf

Summary:

Forgone conclusions.

Notes:

Been a couple years huh? Hi. :)

I can imagine a few shocked reactions seeing this top up at the top of the tag or in your notifs.

I've actually had the next chapter sitting in my drafts for a while but the idea of having to write even more after it without a clear vision of how I wanted the ending to play out was stressing me out. But I've also hated the idea of this sitting unfinished on my account.

To anyone who has enjoyed my work I hope I can give you a bit of closure. I wanted to be able to post what I had written but without intentions to write more I never felt like I could. I had this whole final showdown with Cioccolata and Secco floating around in my mind but any writing I did to that end felt like I was writing myself into a corner.

The ending is a bit abrupt, perhaps, but emotionally I think the journey of the reader and La Squadra has concluded nicely already. Gelato has allowed himself to care about things outside of Sorbet and Sorbet's arc will be wrapped up shortly in this final chapter.

Thanks to old readers for your support and to any new readers who are reading this all at once. I hope regardless of how sudden the ending is that the journey was still worth it to you.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ooo la la, you two,” you said with a low whistle. “This is not what I was expecting at all.”

 

Their dwelling was a step above a comfortable size for two occupants and very well decorated, bordering on luxurious in your broke college student mind. It had a nice open kitchen area that led out to a cozy outdoor patio with a small stretch of yard space, surrounded by a high wooden fence blocking out the rest of the world. The living area was tastefully arranged, and the choice of furniture really brought the room together. There were two floors, and to your delight there was a fancy spiral staircase connecting them, which was the first thing you rushed over to get a closer look at once your initial amazement wore off. “Oh, this is so cool!” you called out, walking up in an ascending coil before descending again, letting your hand slide up and down the twisting rail.

 

“It’s just stairs,” Gelato said with a shrug, watching you with amusement.

 

“Swirly stairs!” you corrected him between pants, zooming back up them once more.

 

The second floor didn’t have too much to it, although you did take a peek into their (and now yours as well, you thought while your heart skipped a beat) shared bedroom. That was a very large bed and you were feeling yourself getting a little bit giddy already at the thought of sleeping there tonight. Besides the master bathroom attached to their room, the upstairs floor had some kind of office workspace. You didn’t want to mess with any of the expensive looking computers and other equipment outfitted in there, and you soon made your way back down to join Sorbet and Gelato to get the rest of your things.

 

On your way to grab your various remaining luggage items you kept seeing Sorbet and Gelato opening secret compartments behind furniture and loose panels, compartments clearly added after the building’s initial construction, and using the contents they retrieved to open the locks of other secret compartments. You were a little overwhelmed by the idea of having to learn their unique and convoluted storage system to be able to navigate your new home.

 

Once all of your belongings from the car had been brought in Sorbet reached over to set his hand on your shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said in his deep voice, leaning down to gently kiss your temple. You turned around to give him a small kiss on the lips while he was still at your height and he smiled, tussling your hair. Not one to be left out of the affection, Gelato slowly spun you around again to face him, giving you a kiss of his own. While kissing had made you drop your guard, you let out a yelp when you felt Gelato’s arms wrap around you and picked you up.

 

“Ah, put me down!” you said, flailing your legs as he walked you over to the couch.

 

“Alrighty!” he replied, voice filled with mischief as he let go of you. You braced yourself, but when you plopped down you immediately found yourself sinking into the plush couch.

 

“Don’t do that!” you grumbled, sinking further. “Dang… this thing has a lot of give.”

 

“I wanted to get something a bit firmer, but Gelato insisted,” Sorbet said with an amused click of his tongue.

 

“He has a hard time saying no to me,” Gelato added, plopping down next to you and peering at your form below him, partially submerged in a sea of cushioning. “Just don’t get lost down there.”

 

“Gelato, I’m drowning,” you said, feigning a wistful distress as you reached an arm out towards him.

 

“Eh, you’ll live,” he replied with a smirk. You pouted at that, and sprung up to tackle him into the couch. He struggled for a moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to pepper messy kisses all over your face. Not to be outdone, you gave him some of your own until you were both a giggling mess tangled up in each other.

 

Sorbet just watched the two of you, unable to help a small smile from tugging at the corner of his lips, before Gelato sat up and grabbed him by the shirt, giving him a forceful pull. He stumbled forward and barely caught himself, bent at the waist over the back of the couch, now between the two of you. He was still processing it as Gelato leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. You stared wide eyed and tried your best to stifle a laugh with your hand over your mouth as Sorbet’s expression slowly morphed into one of annoyance, before you leaned over and kissed his other cheek. He straightened out with a huff and pushed himself up off the couch’s back and walked away muttering under his breath.

 

You tried to give Gelato an admonishing look for what he did, but it was hard to keep the smile from creeping onto your face, purging any venom your expression may have held. He just flashed you one of his too-wide toothy grins, before his expression softened just a bit. 

 

“I suppose I should say… welcome home?”






Life at Sorbet and Gelato’s house quickly fell into a normal routine.

They had a lot of rules for you to follow; all for your protection of course. They made sure to show you where they wanted you to park your car when you eventually went to pick it up, and the circuitous path that you would use to approach their home’s hidden side entrance, a gate that blended in perfectly with a fence bordering the backside of their property. There were a lot of precautions they used to make sure they weren’t being tailed home that they in turn made sure to drill into you. You appreciated that your boyfriends were nothing if not safety-minded and vigilant. (Illuso probably had some other adjectives in mind.)

 

Despite their set up making you feel like you were in a maximum security military outpost, it was a beautiful home and you were glad to be there. Knowing it was their home just made it better.

Eventually school started up again, and despite how much you loved your boyfriends you were excited for some space to yourself to engage your personal passion for linguistics. It was your last year, so you had signed up for some pretty interesting classes that really focused on your specializations.

 

It worked out since they were often gone for long stretches of time, leaving you alone in their home to focus on your studies. It had been a long time since you’d been alone like this for days, and sometimes weeks, on end. But it wasn’t as lonely as you thought it would be. You were content with your own company, content with the life you had forged for yourself and all it had brought you.






It was a weekend and your boyfriends were at home after a long absence. Gelato had stepped out to ‘pick up some essentials from the store’ and you didn’t really want to burn the mental energy trying to figure out if that meant he was meeting up with a contact or not. He was going to be back for movie night later and that’s all that mattered to you.

 

You were cuddled up next to Sorbet on the bed upstairs while he read a book. Actually dating him made you feel less embarrassed about staring at him longingly, which is what you eventually ended up doing when you found yourself unable to follow along with his bewildering choice in reading material. At some point he noticed and after finishing up the last page in the chapter he was working on he placed his bookmark down and closed the book.

 

“Does someone need my attention?” he asked with a low rumble.

 

“No,” you said, nuzzling closer. “Don’t stop reading on my account.”

 

He reached over to set the book down on his bedside table. “It was a good stopping point anyway.” He came back to his neutral sitting position and pulled you closer.

 

“So how goes, uh… Chicken Soup for the Soul: Living Catholic Faith: One Hundred And One Stories to Offer Hope, Deepen Faith, and- ?”

 

“The book is going fine,” Sorbet interrupted, before adding with a small smile, “a lot more engaging than Chicken Soup for the Golfer’s Soul but less so than Chicken Soup for the Entrepreneur’s Soul.”

 

You raised an eyebrow. “You golf?”

 

“No,” he replied.

 

You snorted out a laugh at that. He brought his hand up to soothingly scratch your head, and after a small pause you spoke again. “I don’t want to sound… judgy? But do you read these books, like uh… Ironically?”

 

“Perhaps,” he said with a shrug. “The absurdity of it isn’t lost on me. A big tough guy curled up in bed with his saccharine feel-good garbage. I can’t say I even feel particularly captivated by the content.” He didn’t quite seem like he was finished, but it took a moment for the rest of his thoughts to catch up with him. “I suppose it’s the sort of tacky thing I would have found on my parents’ bookshelf as a child, not that I ever even read them back then.”

 

You considered the words quietly for a moment. “So, a kind of nostalgia maybe? Er… but for something you didn’t even really experience?”

 

“I’d consider it a morbid curiosity more than anything,” Sorbet responded. “An exercise in picking the mind of ‘normal’ people.”

 

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow. “And normal people… golf?”

 

“Normal people feel like they’re a part of the world they live in.”

 

You were going to respond but then you got stuck on a particular memory of Illuso walking you through the mirror world on your way to your car after Pericolo had stopped by base unannounced. You remember when in that desolate and lifeless world he had said ‘the real world might as well be this for me, just louder.’

 

You supposed that if you were to ask anyone in La Squadra whether or not they thought of themselves as ‘normal’ they’d all answer the same. Being an assassin made you not normal by default you thought, but perhaps it was more shrewd to say that no normal person would become an assassin to begin with. Even Formaggio, who could socialize at a bar with relative ease, must have had a penchant for violence that drew him to the life of a mafioso. He was banned from professional wrestling for his callous disregard for the safety of others, afterall.

 

It had always been framed that your presence injected a sense of normalcy into their lives, but how else could you have ended up with them as your friends unless you were also some level of withdrawn from normal life? You could never truly immerse yourself into the world of crime and conspiracy that your friends lived in, but you found it harder to feel like you had any place in any sort of real world as time went on.

 

You lived somewhere between the two, in a world of just nine people.

 

You glanced over again at the book Sorbet had put down, and thought about something else you wanted to ask about instead of responding to what he said.

 

“Do you believe in God?” you asked.

 

He took a while to respond, and although his face was as unreadable as ever, his eyes looked almost… shy?

 

“I do,” he said finally. “Gelato doesn’t care to talk about it, so I don’t have a reason to bring it up. It makes him uncomfortable.”

 

“How does that… work out for you?”

 

“Maybe calling myself religious is a bit of a stretch, but it was a huge part of my life growing up. I don’t believe most of it. God though… I believe in God.” He leaned back against the bed frame and pulled you gently with him, causing you to cuddle up closer. “Didn’t matter much to me, given my career trajectory, aside from a sort of constant dread in the back of my mind. I sort of figured I was too far down the road of no return.”

 

He was quiet for another moment.

 

“I thought about putting the lighter out.”

 

“The lighter?” you asked, confused.

 

“The one for the Passione entry test. For getting a stand. I thought about it,” he said.

 

“Why didn’t you? I’m sure it would have worked.”

 

“I know it would have. But…” He paused for a moment. “Knowing I would see my own soul reflected back at me… Finding out who I really am, at my core…” He closed his eyes. “I was terrified.”

 

He held you closer, and turned his head away from you to hide his face.

 

“I really do think… you’ve given us all a second chance. And I wanted to tell you first, before I told the others. Once this whole Boss thing is settled… if I make it out alive… I’m retiring.”

 

You clutched at him tighter, processing those words. “R-really?”

 

He turned back to look at you, a tired half-smile on his lips. “With all the money we’d get out of it I’d be set for life. I don’t know what Gelato would want to do about his role in Passione, but the two of us could finally get married at least. It’s a little too early to be thinking about how you figure into that, but I’d definitely have more time to spend with you. I could start going on vacations. Maybe even pick up golfing?”

 

Sorbet leaving behind assassination? For some reason you had never considered it a possibility before. You could see Pesci or Formaggio stepping back when things were all done, but Sorbet?

 

“That’s… wow! Sorbet. I… I’d love that for you.” You clutched his shirt a bit tighter. “But… don’t say things like… if you make it out alive.”

 

You turned to look at him, and you both made eye contact for a while. You could see a lot of thoughts going on behind those eyes, but for once you couldn’t decipher any of them. Eventually his expression softened, although it held some distant sadness.

 

When I make it out alive,” he corrected. “When we all make it out alive, the squad and us can all go golfing.”

 

And despite the heavy atmosphere, you both laughed.

 

After Sorbet was able to get his plans out in the air with you he finally felt confident enough to run it by Gelato as well.

 

At first Gelato didn’t take his boyfriend seriously. He made a few jokes about how he couldn’t believe that Sorbet was going to make him partner with “those other chumps” on missions, but it didn’t take long for him to realize Sorbet meant it genuinely. He was shocked to silence for a moment before he threw his arms around his boyfriend and let out an ugly strained sob, cut through by a couple spluttering laughs.

 

“Good for you, Sorbet! That’s going to be so great for your stomach ulcers,” Gelato joked between gross wet blubbering. “You can finally start that jigsaw puzzle you’ve been meaning to get to!”

 

Sorbet sighed and patted Gelato’s back while the shorter man clutched at him. He was a bit misty eyed himself.

 

The suffocating sense of doom you’d had ever since the Boss mission started was finally subsiding. All that was left was the formalities of actually finding him; as far as you were concerned, they’d already won.






Two members of the Boss’s personal special operations team had been tasked with taking out a couple of traitors who had gotten too close to discovering vital information about the Boss’s identity. The goal was to send a message to anyone else who got big ideas to follow their lead, especially the other members of their unit.

 

All intel gathered on “Sorbet and Gelato” painted them as loners who often acted independently from the rest of their squad. Too paranoid to trust their high stakes gamble to anyone else. While the stand capabilities of the two members were unknown, it was clear from records of their mission dispatches that they had little combat prowess against other stand users.

 

Making an example of them would have been so easy.

 

But they weren’t the men in those intelligence reports anymore.

 

When the Boss’s assassins came for Sorbet and Gelato, they weren’t expecting to have to fight all of La Squadra.






They all went into hiding after that. You’d hear from them on occasion, when they felt it was safe to contact you, but they couldn’t afford to involve you now that they were on the run. While you missed them dearly you were buried deep in your studies. It was all you could do to keep yourself from worrying endlessly.

 

But it wasn’t just La Squadra taking on the Boss anymore. Risotto was able to make strong allies all across Passione to help with their coup. Had Risotto been motivated by money or power he would have never reached out, but he had become a man motivated by principles. And when he found he could build his alliances based on those principles he was finally able to envision a better future.






You weren’t privy to details about your friends’ ongoing campaign, so you had no way of knowing how progress was going. It wasn’t until about a little over a year after you graduated college that you received news that it was all finally over.

 

The revelation came in the form of an invitation to your boyfriends’ wedding.

Notes:

Thanks for your patience and sorry if the bullet point style epilogue at the end there wasn't satisfying. I'd like to hope it's at least better than never getting a final chapter at all.

My sensibilities and interests have changed a lot since I first wrote this. There's a lot of things about this work that I find kind of silly inherently now. But there's also a lot of stuff I'm happy with.

This was the first proper fanfic I've really ever written. I think the experience was worth it in the end.