Chapter Text
With a bellchime he didn't anticipate, Fugo gives the door to the small breakfast place a much harder shove than he immediately realized necessary, wincing and apologizing to those nearby for the sudden noise.
He saw a hand waving him down at the corner of his eye and felt instant relief. Giorno Giovanna, the don of Passione, never carried that menacing weight the title should carry. Though, maybe it's because they currently had disclosed from the general public, but still sweet relationship. Not that he minded the chance to run out of the view of onlookers and into the gaze of someone that never ceased to ease Fugo's stress.
"I'm sorry I called you out on such short notice," Giorno explained behind a hand as he finished chewing the last of a pastry. "This couldn't wait until I met you back at Headquarters; pretty big news." He wiped his hands and corners of his mouth on an intricate designed handkerchief before folding it away and taking out an envelope from an interior pocket of his coat.
"What is this?" Fugo took it with a hesitant glance, slipping his thumb under the flap and twisting his wrist to tear it open bit-by-bit until he could pull the letter out.
"Pannacotta Fugo, congratulations on your acceptance!" The printed letter began. From there, his eyes skimmed the paper the further he felt himself sink into disbelief. The smile on Giorno's lips was audible and lured Fugo's attention back slowly.
"You're going back to university, Fugo! I'll be paying all of your expenses - and there's absolutely no room for arguing." The don's statement punctuated with his legs swiftly crossed under the table.
A tremor started in Fugo’s hands then, still holding the letter and envelope in each hand. He felt his face growing hot under his eyes, the tears brimming and threatening to spill. A sob stumbled out past his lips that caught Giorno’s attention and gained a double take.
"Panni?" Giorno stood up and rushed to Fugo's side, holding his hands and kneeling to be eye level with him. "Why on Earth are you crying, are you not ready? I can cancel your enrollment in seconds, if it's what you'd like-"
Fugo's voice trembled in an attempt to talk, but gave up and dropped his head down to face his lap. Giorno's frown grew, more directed at himself.
"I'm so sorry I overstepped my boundaries, Fugo--"
"No, no," Fugo used his sleeves to wipe his tears and meeting the don's gaze with a shaky smile. "This is amazing, Giogio! I-I just don't know what to say."
Relief washed over Giorno, and he returned the smile as he pulled out his handkerchief and offered it.
"How about 'You idiot, how could you make such a decision for me behind my back'? I deserve that at least, for making you cry." The don offered and pushed a section of his partner's pale blond locks behind his ear as he stood. Fugo got up on his feet as well and wrapped his arms around Giorno comfortably.
"Thank you so much." Fugo felt his smile almost begin to ache, but happily so.
A month later, the second-time university student held the books he required for that day to his chest, pressing his thin framed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Fugo knew he'd be anxious, but after his lectures for the day, he felt he was handling it well and mentally patted himself on his back. It wasn't long before he realized the stone path he walked was guarded by rows of roses on either side of him. They were all in bloom, mostly pinks with deeper tints on the edge of their petals and deep reds like it was painted with women's lipstick. It was all reminiscent of that day.
Fugo was called out to a local garden, finding Giorno waiting for him on a bench close to the entrance. He got up with a smile and they walked together deeper among the rose bushes as they spoke.
"Do you always have meetings with underlings in such scenic places?" Fugo gently bent a thorny stem toward himself to better appreciate a fuzzy, round bumblebee covering itself in the flower's pollen.
"I wouldn't really consider this a meeting. Business has no place in such a peaceful space; I usually sneak out of headquarters to unwind sometimes actually." Giorno admitted as he unlatched the cloak around his shoulders and folded it to rest it in the crook of a bent arm. "I guess you could say I'm fed up with being by myself and my thoughts."
"Mm." Fugo responded, because he didn't know what else to really say. 'That Giorno is still an odd guy...somethings don't change.'
Truly he felt that the current capo hadn't changed, aside from what he knew had occurred the past months. It sometimes sounded like Giorno was struggling with the change as well, but Fugo decided it wasn't his place to voice such concerns.
"Not to be blunt, but…" Giorno's voice carried from behind, but stopped. This caused Fugo to turn around and face him directly. "Are you seeing anyone?"
"That's a sore and frankly unrealistic fantasy." Fugo scoffed. "But I can't see someone that looks like you understanding that."
"Why is that?" Giorno asked innocently.
The fact he did so was almost laughable to Fugo.
"Like you don't know," Fugo rolled his eyes and sauntered a little farther into the rose garden, Giorno in tow. "You're gorgeous, first of all. You're able to think on your feet, hell even your stand is just as adaptable as you! And you carry yourself like you've already won the fight...it's all so admirable, really." Fugo sighed, practically speaking to himself the more he spoke. His arms crossed and eyes lowered onto a stray, wilted plant at his feet.
"I'm flattered by your honesty, Fugo." Giorno mused with a small smile. "So, what do you say?"
"To what?" Fugo looked up, realizing the don's smooth voice was growing closer.
Giorno stopped just in front of him and the plant between them slowly curled into itself like water restricted to a bowl, the color refining to a sharp green and raising up to show a combination of gold roses just at their chests.
"Why don't we go steady?"
The slightest brush against a passerby jolted Fugo out of his haze and sent his books falling out of his arms.
"I-I'm sorry, it's my fault," He mumbled to the student and quickly picked up his things.
From there, Fugo walked off to the library in quick, flustered strides. The chill of being indoors helped calm the blush under his eyes as he peered between aisles and bookshelves for somewhere he'd be able to sit by himself. Because it was early in the afternoon, he was able to find a wide table in the back of the library.
He quietly let his books clutter the table, slinging his backpack under it and collapsing into a chair with his eyes closed.
'I really got worked up over some flowers. How ridiculous,' He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, freezing once he realized something was very off.
'Why can't I feel my glasses anymore?'
Fugo slowly opened his eyes just in time to see what would've been inexplicable in any capacity. His glasses now floated over his head and upward still.
'It's only my first week of school and I'm already losing it.' He sighed and watched them for a moment. Suddenly his body sprung to stand up on his chair, gaining extra leverage with a foot on the table as his arms grab at them. 'I refuse! I'm not going crazy as long as I have a say in it!'
The arms of the glasses folded, and each bifocal twisted like a towel being rung out, then reopened into a butterfly with wide brown wings.
"Those are a new look for you." A familiar voice spoke to his side. Fugo sputtered realizing after the second glance.
"Giogio?!" Fugo squeaked a lot louder than he meant to and clamped a hand over his mouth. The butterfly over his head finally settled over Fugo's nose, and he watched it intently as it's wings beat gently over his face before reforming into his glasses. "What are you doing here?" He huffed and adjusted them over his face.
Giorno offered a hand to Fugo, helping him down and off the table and taking a chair next to him.
"I'm in need of some scholarly touch-ups. It just registered to me I didn't even finish highschool, and It'd be embarrassing to my image if word got out." He responded cooly, slight amusement in his tone.
"Why not just hire some private tutor, why rely on me so suddenly?" The student quipped.
"The way I see it, we can spend more time together - regardless if it's back at Passione or really anywhere."
Fugo couldn't help but smile a bit sheepishly at that.
"You don't need to make up excuses to see me, Giogio. You can just ask--"
"Second, you're now dressed for it." Giorno smirked and leaned closer while studying the magnification of the lenses.
"Are the glasses that shocking to you?" Fugo crooked an exasperated brow. "It's not a fashion statement, I just need them to read but my case is broken so I'm wearing them."
"I'll get used to them, I promise Professor Fugo." Giorno held a hand over his heart as he spoke.
"Alright then," Fugo sighed and pushed his glasses up, "What subject would you like to start?"