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Abbacchio yawned as he entered the kitchen, heading straight to the counter to begin making tea. While waiting for the tea to finish, he sat down at the table and started to read the morning newspaper. His focus was disturbed when he heard footsteps from behind him heading toward the open doorway of the kitchen.
Ah, Abbacchio knew who those footsteps belonged to from anywhere. After years of working with Buccellati, there was no surprise that his mind ingrained the distinct walk of his boss. With a steady rhythm, each step was filled with confidence and he strode with grace. Despite wearing heels, he barely heard the ‘click’, making his walk quite alluring. And then of course, what made it all happen was his long, muscular legs and-
“Good morning, Abbacchio.”
It was Giorno Giovanna.
Abbacchio groaned inwardly. His disappointment showed when he flipped to the next page of the newspaper in an aggressive manner. He tried to refocus his attention to the article. With his peripheral vision he couldn't help but notice Giorno walking from behind him to sit across from him. He held the newspaper a little higher, but he could still see the three birds’ nests protruding out.
Luckily, Giorno read Abbacchio’s body language and hadn't asked for a ‘good morning’ back or make some kind of small talk. Although Giorno was usually quiet and rarely disturbed him in the morning, it was simply the sheer presence of Giorno that made Abbacchio’s mornings less enjoyable.
He never had a good relationship with the kid. For one, despite his calm and quiet surface, he could be cocky and have an attitude just as big as the other members. He takes big risks during missions, and although none of the risks taken had failed the mission and caused any of his fellow members to die, he couldn't help but be irked by his brash confidence. His ‘charisma’ had gotten everyone wrapped around his finger. Trusting the new member just because he has a dream? Bullshit.
A few minutes later, Abbacchio got up from his seat and went to pour his tea in a cup. He put a slice of bread in the toaster. He heard sluggish footsteps going down the stairs and then heard that someone bumping into furniture, accompanied with cursing. The white head turned his head to the doorway to see a disheveled and tired Narancia.
“Good morning, Narancia.” Giorno greeted.
Narancia yawned and made eye contact with Giorno, “Are you always up this early?” Giorno nodded. “Seriously? With Abbacchio, too? Jeez, I don’t get how you can stand to stay in the same room as him alone. In the morning. He’ll make your mornings feel like mournings.” Narancia chuckled at his own pun, then took a seat next to the blonde. Abbacchio shot a glare at Narancia, before going back to butter his toast.
“Why are you up so early, Narancia?" Giorno asked. "Normally you sleep in.”
Narancia yawned, “Well, there was this annoying and loud bird outside my bedroom window which woke me up.”
“I see,” Giorno took a sip of his water and paused before he spoke up again. “On the subject of waking up, I’ve been meaning to ask, but why does Abbacchio wake up so early? I’d ask him myself, but I have an impression that he wouldn’t tell me the truth.” Abbacchio scowled in his head, Although, the kid isn’t exactly wrong. Also you do know I’m in the same room as you people are, right?
Narancia rubbed his eyes, “Well, you see the amount of makeup he has on everyday. The guy has to do it at some point. He eats earlier so he can have time to put his goth makeup on and straighten his hair.”
Abbacchio intervened before more questions and taunts could come up. “Alright, so I wake up early to put on makeup. A lot of people do the same. Case closed.” Abbacchio sat down at the table, tea and toast in hand. He caught Giorno’s mischievous small smile. “Are you questioning me? How about you? Why do you wake up so early?” And why do you ruin my mornings? He wanted to add.
Giorno shrugged, “I like watching the sun rise.” What a Giorno thing to say. Giorno takes a sip of water before changing the subject back to Abbacchio, “So, why do you put on copious amounts of makeup on in the first place?”
The senior bit into his toast and chewed, almost angrily.
“Same reason as anyone else. Makes me feel better about myself and also makes me more presentable-”
“-but not approachable,” Narancia muttered. Abbacchio gave the younger the look. Narancia escaped his superior’s piercing glare and turned to face Giorno. “The truth is,” Narancia looked left and right (but avoiding all eye contact with Abbacchio) before leaning closer to Giorno, a smirk graced his face as he whispered, “He just wants to impress Buccellati.”
Abbacchio quickly stood up and hit his palm down on the table, “Don’t go making baseless assumptions you little-“
“What’s all the ruckus?”
Abbacchio’s head quickly turned to the doorway, his eyes first drawn by the bright strawberry pattern on pajama bottoms, then spotting the angered yet tired expression of Fugo.
“Abbacchio,” Fugo growled and irritably rubbed his eyes, “I saw that was you. Making such a loud noise... do you not care for Buccellati?!”
“Yeah!” Narancia shouted, “You’re always pestering us about keeping quiet in the mornings on days we have no mission since you want Buccellati to sleep in, but now he’s probably awake right now because of you!” Well god dammit Narancia if he hadn’t woken up before he’s definitely awake now.
Abbacchio was about to blow a fuse. They knew that Abbacchio cared about Buccellati just as much as (and in his view, more than) anyone else. Fugo was mad because he got woken up so he dished out his best plate of low blows while Narancia started this stupid thing in the first place and- no wait, it was Giorno who started it because he asked him about his makeup and Giorno is now just sitting there with sipping his water and probably thinking that today’s 'ruin Abbacchio’s mornings' was the best laid plan and it was a success and he's probably thinking about tomorr-
His train of thought was broken when he heard faint footsteps of someone who had socks on, confidence and grace held within each step. This time, he knew that it was him.
“Good morning,” Buccellati stepped through the doorway and past Fugo, casually sauntering towards the fridge in his plain white pajamas (Abbacchio can’t help but notice how two buttons at the top of his pajama shirt are unbuttoned) and in his bed headed glory.
A chorus of almost seemingly rehearsed “good mornings” followed, minus Fugo, who followed him to the fridge.
“Capo, it’s 7:30 AM, please go back to bed,” Fugo said with concern laced in his voice. He added, “We’re sorry for waking you up."
Buccellati looked up from the fridge and gave his undivided attention to Fugo. He smiled wearily at the strawberry clad member, “No need to apologize, I woke up because I wanted to get a glass of water.” And so Buccellati did. He got the filtered water from the fridge, poured himself a glass, drank it and then walked back upstairs, all while everyone else hadn’t uttered a sound.
When Giorno was sure that Buccellati was back in his room, he broke the silence. “That was a lie. He had probably wanted to break up the commotion.”
The other gang members nodded their heads feeling guilty. They went off doing mundane and quiet activities. Fugo went to the living room to read a book with a piece of toast with strawberry jam. Narancia followed shortly afterwards with a magazine in hand. Giorno headed out for some reason to which Abbacchio could care less about. Abbacchio himself went upstairs to the bathroom to straighten his hair to his liking and do his makeup. A couple hours later he came down to read newspapers and magazines in the kitchen. It was at 11:00 AM when he noticed that not only that Giorno had came back, but he was making lunch and it seemed like quite a large and fancy one at that considering the amount and quality of ingredients he had out on the counters. Thirty minutes later, Abbacchio watched Giorno walk out of the kitchen, holding a tray with his lunch on it. He would never say it to the younger’s face, but the food seemed tasty (or at least presented well, with it being showered in colorful spices and all). Wait a second why is he bringing food upstairs? Abbacchio realized. Maybe he finally got the hint that I don’t enjoy his company or presence. Then again… why not eat in the living room? Is he going to eat in his room? Abbacchio tried to convince himself that it was just the freak Giorno Giovanna so therefore he shouldn’t even bother attempting to make sense of his actions, but his curiosity got the best of him. After Giorno reached the top step, Abbacchio quietly followed. He saw Giorno turn left, which didn’t make sense. His room wasn’t down that hallway. Only Abbacchio, Buccellati, Fugo’s and the bathroom were the rooms to the left of the staircase, with of course Giorno, Narancia and Mista’s rooms being to the right. Giorno passed the bathroom, Fugo’s bedroom then Abbacchio’s bedroom. He stopped right in front of Buccellati’s bedroom. Abbacchio stepped silently into the bathroom, but peaked from behind to see Giorno knocking on the door and softly calling out, “Buccellati, may I come in?” to which was responded with a “yes”.
Suddenly, it all hit Abbacchio as if he had finally figured out an enemy Stand’s ability. It all made sense and it was all according to Giorno’s plan. Giorno used his Stand to turn something into a loud bird which would be outside Narancia’s window and would wake him up. Giorno would ask why Narancia woke up, which would lead up to him asking Narancia why Abbacchio wakes up early. Giorno knew Narancia would answer with the intention to tick Abbacchio off and that would get Abbacchio riled up and cause both of them to get noisy. This was so Buccellati would wake up (although Fugo woke up before, which was fine since the more the people joined the noisier the room would get) because of them and it seemed like Giorno predicted Buccellati’s actions of going downstairs, to which everyone in the room would feel guilty. And then finally, Giorno would deliver breakfast in bed to Buccellati as an “apology” for the commotion this morning, but behind this notion is really that Buccellati would see Giorno responsible, mature and kind and ultimately the blond would win his capo’s affection! Did you really plan all of this, Giorno Giovanna?! Abbacchio thought as he watched Giorno enter Buccellati’s room. He swore he saw a coy smile upon the younger’s face.
As Giorno walked in he saw his capo sitting up in his bed with covers on his lap and an open book in his hands.
"I apologize that I'm interrupting your reading," Giorno hadn't gotten a quick reply due to Buccellati finishing the page of the book he was reading.
When he was done, he flipped the page and set in his bookmark shaking his head while saying, "No need to apologize, I'm more than willing to give up reading a book for you or any other member." He set the book on the night stand. Buccellati looked up for the first time and saw Giorno, a large tray in hand with a delicious looking breakfast sitting atop. Buccellati blinked a few times in rapid succession. "Did you make all of this?"
Giorno nodded, "And it's all for you, capo. Narancia, Abbacchio and Fugo woke you up this morning, and I take some blame for not keeping the situation under control." Giorno gave him a lopsided smile, "This is... an apology breakfast I suppose." Giorno walked over to the bedside and placed the tray on his lap before sitting on the bed, his two legs planted on the floor.
Buccellati gave Giorno a warm and pure smile that almost made him lose his composure. Giorno couldn't tell if he was happy because he would get to eat all this food or happy because of the act of Giorno making him food. Either way, it was all worth it to see his boss's beautiful smile.
Giorno hadn't known when this infatuation with Buccellati started. When he had first met Buccellati (albeit not the most pleasing way they could have met) it was evident at first sight that the man was handsome. Enemy or ally, it doesn't affect how one would judge physical appearance. And then there was Buccellati's personality. Kind, generous, righteous... traits Giorno admired. But just because you hold admiration for someone doesn't necessarily mean you love that someone as a significant other. So when had this love for Buccellati start? Did he even have a chance with him? Five years older, his boss and to top it off there was Abbacchio that circled around him possessively.
Giorno was shook out of his thoughts when he noticed that Buccellati was digging into his meal quite fast, and if Giorno had to guess it was probably because he doesn't get a full meal everyday. Halfway through the meal, Giorno saw a couple of crumbs at the corner of Buccellati's lips. "Buccellati, you have crumbs here..." Giorno swung his legs up on the bed and awkwardly straddled Buccellati's knees. He leaned over the tray and eventually ended up face to face with his boss. The younger focused his gaze on his boss' slightly agape mouth and brought his thumb up to slowly wipe the crumbs off. His thumb grazed his soft lips before he got the crumbs off. He looked back at his superior's plump lips and brought his thumb up once again, ready to repeat the action but this time he had the intention of going from corner to corner. He wanted to feel the contrast between his calloused thumb and those soft, soft lips again. Giorno was broken from his trance when Buccellati grasped Giorno's wrist lightly.
"Giorno." Bucellati said in a gentle yet stern manner. With his other hand, Buccellati cupped Giorno's chin and raised it so they would look at each other. Giorno looked straight into Buccellati's encapturing eyes.
Giorno said, "I overstepped your comfort, Buccellati, I..." Giorno trailed off. He felt himself lean closer to those luring eyes.
"Hell yeah you did," a familiar voice roared. Accompanied by it were heavy footsteps, each footstep being heard loud and clear, almost piercing to his ears. There was a certain weight to them that carried anger. Giorno knew whose's footsteps they belonged to.
Giorno turned his head around to see the white haired anrgy goth lion called Abbacchio. His hands were clenched in tight fists, he had his chin raised and he wore a deep frown.
When Abbachio approached the bedside he stared straight into Giorno's' eyes.
"I let you pull that crumb stunt, hoping that I would get the pleasure of seeing Buccellati slap you in the face but I should have known that he'd go easy on you." Buccellati didn't say a word and let the tension hang in the air.
"I am giving you twenty seconds for you to get your ass out of this rom," He offered sharply, "Unless you want me to grab you by the collar and throw you out?"
Giorno furrowed his brows, but he had not wanted to make the situation any worse, so he quietly left the room (he swore he felt the both of their eyes burning on his back) and closed the door on the way out. He headed to the staircase. When he reached the stairs, he saw Mista, Narancia and Fugo half way up them and standing, looking a little guilty. He guessed they had heard Abbacchio.
"Did you try to make a move on Buccellati?" Fugo asked, his eyebrows slightly raised.
Giorno thought there was no reason to hide it. "How did you know?" Giorno asked.
"You made a huge lunch, but didn't share it with any of us." Narancia pouted. Of course Narancia made a deduction based on food.
Mista chimed in, "That's besides the point. Anyways, we're just here to tell you that you should give up on Buccellati," Mista put his hand to the back of his hat. "Actually, the three of us used to have a crush on Buccellati at some point," he said sheepishly. "But Abbacchio interfered whenever we tried to gain his affection."
"Ah..." Giorno replied dumbly. He was surprised, but simultaneously he wasn't.
"C'mon Giorno, let's go down to the kitchen. We'll make you some lunch." Giorno almost wanted to say Narancia said that with pity, but he sounded too chipper and sincere. Giorno looked at the three's faces, all three who were rejected by Buccellati- or rather, Abbacchio. He supposed Buccellati was in good hands if Abbacchio could fend off four boys. Giorno smiled as he headed downstairs with the trio.
"Are you mad at me..." Buccellati asked, "For not punching him in the face?"
"Slapping," Abbacchio corrected. He was sitting on the bed while picking off the remains of the lunch that Buccellati didn't want.
"I don't want you to think I'm not faithful to you, Leone..." Buccellati said while looking down at the tray, troubled. It was making Abbacchio a little upset. Heck, out of all of the conversations that could have went, he was expecting a slap to the face.
The relationship between Abbacchio and Buccellati was a little complicated. They never stated the official dating status between the two, for they feared it could cause other complications, but it seemed as if all the gang members knew.
"Bruno, you are kind natured and that is what I like about you. I'm not upset at you." I'm upset at Giorno, Abbacchio thought.
A minute passed before Buccellati spoke up, "I'll have a conversation with Giorno to make sure he gets the idea." Abbacchio nodded, although he was sure Giorno got the message. After all, Mista, Narancia and Fugo had gotten the message before.
"Can I listen to you read? It can be what you were reading before." Abbacchio asked. Occasionally Buccellati would read aloud a book. Funny enough, it was Abbacchio and Fugo who taught him how to read, and it was first Abbacchio who would read to him. But then after Buccellati learned how to, he grew to love listening to his boss read, especially if it was fiction, for he put ounces of emotion into his voice. Not only that, but he could feel pride coming from his voice, most likely pride for learning on how to read, and Abbacchio was happy to indulge in that.
"How long had you eavestropped?" Buccellati asked with a smirk on his face.
Abbachio blushed. "W-Whatever, just do it."
Buccellati chuckled before reaching over to grab his book from his night stand. Abbacchio got comfy and sat beside Buccellati on the bed. As Buccellati read, Abbachio leaned his head against the ravenhead's shoulder.