Work Text:
You completely lost count over the time. You had no idea how long you have been hunching over your sketchbook, but considering the faint burning behind your eyes and the growing heaviness in your limbs, it was way past your usual bedtime. Hell, it was past bedtime already when you arrived back to the HQ from your mission, had dinner and started sketching for a while to unwind.
Unlike the last time you were drawing, which was days ago, you didn’t have any specific idea on mind, just drew whatever you could see, the leftovers in your plate, the vase on the table that hadn’t seen a flower in the past year, the occasional clutter left here and there by your teammates. You just got really into it, and while you told yourself a couple of times that you would go to sleep as you finish just this one, you still were glued to the chair, burning through another and another page of your sketchbook.
Not long after the clock stroke 3, you heard footsteps coming from the sleeping quarters. It wasn’t unusual to sleep at the base when someone had a job early in the morning, or just finished one late into the night, and it was easier than going home. You didn’t even look up, thinking whoever is coming, they would just get a glass of water and leave, so you were quite surprised when the footsteps stopped at the door, behind your back, and you heard the click of a lighter.
- It’s 3 in the morning - started the low, raspy baritone voice, audibly groggy from some light sleep, after exhaling the smoke. - They say that those awake at this time are either drunk, or in love, or both. So, which one is it tonight?
You half-turned your head, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Prosciutto was leaning to the doorframe, hair down, wearing his striped nightgown (and judging by his visibly naked chest and legs, only a pair of briefs under it), smoking a cigarette. This was something that not many people who knew this always prim and proper gangster could have seen. Normally, you would scold him for smoking indoors, but it was the hottest night of this summer so far, and with all the windows open, you were sure the draft would clean the air soon.
- I didn’t expect you to say something like that - you turned back, the corners of your mouth still curling upwards. - More like, “Why the fuck do you think staying up at this hour is a good idea?” Or, “If you jeopardize the mission tomorrow because you are too tired to function, I am not going to save your ass again.”
At your accurate but mocking tone, he let out a laugh that filled your chest and stomach with warmth, and flushed your cheeks red. He stepped closer, grabbing the ashtray from the counter.
- Impressive - he said, - But I liked my version better. So, answering my question…?
- It’s neither - you sighed. - I’m just drawing. Helps clearing my mind after work.
- Show me - he sat next to you, placing the ashtray in front of him and gently tapped some ash into it from the end of his cigarette. You watched his beautiful, veiny hands and his nimble fingers work for a split second, then reluctantly pushed the sketchbook over to him.
- It’s really nothing, you see. Just some sketches about this and that, I’m practicing shading at the moment and…. WAIT, NO!
You desperately tried to yank the sketchbook out of his hands in panic when he flipped back one too many pages, but it was too late. Cold, wrenching panic knotted in your stomach while he was just sitting there, cigarette in his mouth, looking at what was a drawing of him. Him, waist up, half naked, to be correct. His brows furrowed, eyes focused, you tried to read his expression while praying for whatever gods are up there to make you disappear. He exhaled the smoke sharply.
- So… Is this how you see me?
- Pro, I… Look, you shouldn’t have seen that, jesus, I know it’s not appropriate, and I’m really sorry, but can we just forget about it?
- Hey - he cut your embarrassed rambling, eyes still fixed on the picture. - It will sound weird, saying this about a portrait of me, but, I think this is beautiful.
- You what? Really?
- Yeah, really. I had no idea you are this talented, I’m in awe. Also…. - his voice softened even more - There is so much endearment, and love in the way you drew this.
- Well, it’s because there is so much endearment and love in everything I do, when it comes to you - you blurted out, regretting it immediately. Prosciutto shot up his glance, and met your deer-in-the-headlight look. - All right, now can you please just whip out your stand and murder me?
He chuckled and shook his head, putting out the cigarette in the ashtray, dabbing the butt a couple of times to make sure it was extinguished. You have never been more embarrassed in your life while he looked so calm, almost relieved, almost happy.
- If I don’t seem enthusiastic enough, it’s because a part of me is sure I am still sleeping and this is a dream, but we definitely need to talk about this tomorrow.
Seeing your expression getting more strained and painful, with a soft “Oh”, he suddenly understood how you felt in the past few minutes, and continued, with a straight face, but smiling eyes.
- If I’m right, and you are feeling what I think this implies, then I can say that it’s mutual - he reached for your hand on the table, and you tangled your fingers with his, studying his face in awe. - And while I don’t think that mixing work and personal life on this level could ever be a good idea, I have feelings for you for quite some time now, and I’d love to see how this would turn out. I mean, only if you’d like to as well.
You nodded, at complete loss of words, staring into his eyes. Prosciutto squeezed your hand a bit in reassurance, and his smile was so confident, so genuine, and so smug, that you couldn’t help, but returning it, though on the inside, you just wanted to scream into your pillow from this happiness. You stayed like this for about a minute, both of your minds racing over what just happened, then he stood up to empty the ashtray into the garbage can.
- I’m glad we got this one off the table, and I can’t wait to finish tomorrow’s mission. How about a dinner? I know some really good places, and I can get a table anywhere.
- That would be perfect - you said with a tired smile spreading further on your face. - I hope we can off the target real soon.
- Just like we always do, tesoro - the ways this nickname rolled off his tongue made you shiver and blush. Prosciutto noticed this, and stepped back by your side. - But now, please, go the fuck to sleep, because it’s past 3 in the morning, and if you jeopardize the mission tomorrow because you are too tired to function, I am not going to save your ass again.
You couldn’t help but laugh over how instantly he could switch back to his work tone and straight face. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, then took his leave towards his room.
- Good night, beautiful.
You waited until his door creaked and shut, before you let your face fall into your hands, and let out an utterly immature squeak and some giggles. You glanced over at the drawing again, beautiful as ever, and you finally admitted to yourself after all these months, that how deeply, and stupidly in love you were with this man.