Chapter Text
The summer breeze carried the fresh sea air and fine drops, each a promise of yet another warm summer day. The chilled air moved clouds against the horizon, streaks of golden rays broke through the clouds .
Giorno let his eyes rest for a moment, leaning his head onto his desk. Feeling the absence of people and the sweet rumbles in the distance, taking in the aroma of fresh bloomed Daturas . He had just arrived home from a long trip to the states. Visiting family was hard, especially visiting people you've never met and those who dont know youre a mob boss . The world around him went dark, despite the warm summer evening. A few minutes he told himself. Just a few minutes to rest his eyes, trying to justify his actions.
"Giorno" ... "Giorno!"
He sat up, gasping and looking frantically around the room. His stand manifesting to life and ready to fight. A body stood in front of him blocked the sun that shown through the open window. He was blinded by the light creating a halo around the figure.
"Oh its just you Fugo". He let out a sigh of relief, his stand disappearing behind him.
Fugo reached for a cloth in his jacket pocket, handing it to Giorno. "You have a bit of...".
Giorno looked down at his desk, putting a hand up to his lips. There was a small puddle of drool on his desk. He could feel the heat growing in his cheeks. By now they must be beyond a rosy attractive.
"Fugo! Im so sorry. Please, don't make me dirty your handkerchief over this. lll just...". Giorno pulled tissues out of a box on his desk and frantically wiped down the areas.
"You seem stressed. You should let me finish these". He paused, looking down at Giorno who was either tired from the jet lag or stressed beyond belief. Could be both if he was being honest with himself.
"You know...your desk reminds me a lot of Abbacchio".
Fugo picked up the papers that were strewn across Giorno's desk. He usually kept things neat and clean, but seeing his work space in such aray made his partner worry.
Giorno gasped, already standing up and slipping off his suit coat. "How dare you say something like that".
Fugo laughed, leaning over the desk and pecking a kiss onto Giorno's cheek.
And then there was nothing more to it, yet there didn't seem a need to. Despite his attempts at keeping collected, like always Fugo saw through it. Because his stress, whatever was getting him down today. Was enough for Fugo to call off the days meeting. And (on Fugo's order), to go out into the courtyard for a break. Calmly he explained that he wouldn't allow his capo to continue his work without being in the right mindset . So he left. On orders, and on time.
He took a deep breath of fresh air. The wooden gate was rough under his touch, the ivy cascaded over the fence and grew bright emerald tendrils in every direction . The stone path, once elegant was now cracked and weeds sprouted between every corner. The unmanicured lawn was more grass than anything now, and covered all the different lawn decorations . Clusters of daffodils poked their golden heads amidst the weed and there were buncles of grapefruit primroses .
Giorno sat down on a bench, crossing his legs and admiring the garden. He picked up a few pebbles, turning them into various types of butterflies. The noise around him faded like he was stuck between realities until his vision was broken by something moving out of the corner of his eye . He looked over towards the movement, watching Fugo open the gate with his stand and carrying two glasses of tea .
Fugo smiled, sitting down next to him and handing him a glass. Giorno wasn't sure he deserved the attention or the care but was grateful for it regardless.
"Thank you", he said softly and took a sip his drink. "I appreciate you checking in on me".
"Don't thank me for something like that." Fugo said, watching the butterflies dance around the yard.
Giorno leaned over, resting his head on Fugos shoulder and letting out a long heavy sigh. It wasn't easy being a teen, never mind being the don of the mafia. He had large shoes to fill and he wasn't close to fitting in them. But there was Fugo. A wonderful subordinate and an even better partner. Logically he knew Fugo was there for him and if he went to Trish, or Mista they would comfort them. Hell he could even talk to a turtle if he wanted to. But It was futile to argue that he wasn't stressed.
"You okay Giorno?" Fugo asked, his hand already in Gio's hair and petting him softly .
He nodded, sniffing and biting back a whine. He could pull himself together, he always could. Yet, tears come in such generous streams as long as Fugo kept whispering sweet nothings to him. It felt good to be on the high, no matter how temporary it may be.
Fugos eyebrows knit together, wrapping his arms around his partners shoulders and squeezed him tightly . Despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of his body pressed against his. Giorno sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple but kind gesture. The tears transformed to something brighter all the faster in the company in someone trustworthy .
They stayed like this for a long while, til the sun started to dip beneath the horizon and the air turned crisp. Fugo pulled away despite Giorno's retaliation.
"Lets go get dinner. Just you and me?" he requested, standing up and holding out his hand.
Gio nodded. Taking Fugos hand and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
"And some strawberry cake?"
Fugo snickered, leading Giorno out of the courtyard. "Of course" He said, leaning in and giving him a kiss.
The world fell away, it was slow and soft yet comforting in ways that words could never be. But that was the blessing of having Fugo around.