Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Giorno is honestly apathetic at this point.

Not a single choreographer knows how to do their job.

Giorno knows how to dance, and he knows that stiff, awkward movements won’t look good on stage. So why is it so hard for professionals to do their job.

Right now, he’s going to another new choreographer. When he first moved to New York City, he had been looking to make it big. He’s been getting scouted more and more, but none of the people he’s worked with so far have worked. The only good thing to come of that first studio, was his now best friend and roommate, Trish. Him and Trish stuck together ever since, and even now, they’re going to this new studio together. Walking around the city in a leotard used to be uncomfortable, but he’s so used to it by now that he gets mad and wonders why people are catcalling Trish. Luckily he’s there to stand up for her, because she usually just brushes it off.

“Are you excited?” Trish breaks him out of his thought.

“Relatively.”

Trish pouted, “Awww. C’mon! I heard this place was really good!”

“That’s what we heard about the last place as well.”

“Yeah yeah,” Trish dismissed his refute with a wave of her hand. “Say, have you got a boyfriend yet?”

Giorno sighs. Why is this always the way Trish takes a conversation? “No.”

They finally show up to the bus station, “You need a boyfriend so I can finally stop having to take care of you.”

Giorno stands up as strait and as proper as he can, puts on the most serious face, and says, “No u.”

Trish bursts out laughing, drawing attention of the other people at the stop, “Sis, you know I can’t get a good boyfriend.”

“Yeah, because you keep dating people that are obviously douches,” Giorno still can’t understand how Trish puts up with these people.

“Yeah. I know. But they’re also hot, and have nice cars. What more could one ask for?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to be treated like an actual human being.”

This causes another bout of laughter, and the conversation to continue to something new seamlessly. Him and Trish have always been able to keep a conversation going, which is something to Giorno, because he normally doesn’t like to continue on with conversation with anyone else. He thinks it’s fairly useless, especially if he doesn’t like the person from the get-go.

The bus ride always feels shorter when it’s with Trish. So they get to the new studio faster than Giorno thought. Looking at the building, it was small. Comparatively to some of the other places he’s been. And it looks as though it’s situated above a cafe.  Just above the sign for the cafe, Golden Wind , was the sign for the dance studio. Passione.

“Wow! It’s so cute!” Trish says first.

“That’s certainly one way to put it.”

“What? You don’t like it? We could get coffee and tea during breaks!”

“We could do that anyway.”

“Yeah, but now it’s right there.”

“Sure.”

“Well, what do you think of it?”

“It’s... quaint.”

“Wow. Ok. Can’t judge a book by its cover though!”

Giorno was definitely judging the book by its cover right now. How could a place like this have a good instructor? Regardless, Trish immediately sets for the door.

Giorno fixes up his hair, straitens his back, and heads inside.

Chapter Text

It’s been almost a full year since Mista was brought into Passione.

He had started off just along street corners and alleyways. He lived off of money people threw into a jar he had out. He really only started doing street dancing because he needed money. But by his second year on the streets, he started to enjoy what he did. He started wanting to improve, which in turn got him more money. Eventually, he must have caught the eyes of some professionals, because that’s when Bucciarati came to offer him a spot. The guy was charismatic, who was Mista to say no?

When he first showed up, there was already a guy named Abbacchio and another named Fugo there. Abbacchio really just seemed to be an assistant, but Mista is pretty sure that him and Bucciarati are together. Very hard to tell. Fugo was a dancer, and he did tap. He was actually really good at it, but about a month into the time Mista’s been here, another newbie showed up. Bucciarati immediately paired Fugo with the new guy, Narancia. Abbacchio was the one that decided they should do tango. And immediately after this, Narancia came to Mista to complain about how weird tango is, and how suspiciously good looking his new partner was.

It didn’t take long for the three of them to become inseparable. And Mista honestly kinda ships Fugo and Narancia. But Narancia is adamant that Fugo doesn’t feel that way, and Fugo is always too flustered (and angry, honestly) to realize he likes Narancia. But Mista is gonna let them figure themselves out.

Right now, he was taking a break. During his break he liked to watch Fugo and Narancia. It was always extremely entertaining.

“No idiot, your foot goes there.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure it’s here.”

“I’m sure. You’re always the one forgetting the steps anyway.”

“Hey! It’s hard to remember! Why don’t you try doing the girl part?!”

“No way in hell am I gonna wear a dress.”

“Ugh! I’m older than you, doesn’t that give me senior authority?”

“Senior authority my ass! You act like you’re two!”

Narancia tackled Fugo to the ground. Mista sips his water. Abbacchio, who was helping Bucciarati with the Jazz class today, yelled at them to ‘get off each other before I come over there’.

They got up, but continued to push at each other like kids as they walked over to Mista for their own break.

As they sat down, the door swung open. In walks a really attractive girl... and then a literal god. They walked with enough grace to make Mista look like more of a slob than he already is. Wait... that’s a dude?! The only reason he could tell was because they didn’t have boobs. Otherwise, they had perfectly crafted legs with delicate ankles, leading up to swaying hips, a thin but still relatively muscular waist, skinny arms covered by some sort of long sleeved turtleneck thing, speaking of neck it was connected to sharp collarbones on one end. The other end had the most beautiful face. He could tell they were a dude, but their face had a certain feminimity to it. It had soft looking, pink, glossy lips, with well defined cheekbones, and a cute little nose. Their eyes were a startlingly bright green, surrounded with what looked like eyeshadow and eyeliner . Boys can wear makeup? The boy even had delicate eyebrows, and above that, three perfectly shaped curls resting on his head like a tiara. The rest of his hair fell down in a braid behind his back.

Mista must have been staring, because he felt a pinch on his side. He turned to see Fugo grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat or something.

“I love your hair!!” Narancia yelled as he pointed at the girl, who had hot pink hair.

She smiled at his enthusiasm, “Thanks!”

“And you!” Narancia turned his attention to the boy, who looked unprepared for any attention, “You’re really pretty.”

Mista could see Fugo’s eye twitch, “Ah. Well. Thank you.”

The girl turned to the blond and smacked his arm, “See? Told you the winged liner was a good idea.”

“He said I was pretty. Not the liner.”

“You’re wearing the liner though. Which by proxy makes the liner pretty.”

“Right.”

Bucciarati turned to have Abbacchio take over the class he was teaching for a minute so he could great the new comers.

“Welcome!” Bucciarati walked over and kissed each on the cheek to greet them, “You wouldn’t mind if I go finish up with my class quickly?”

“Not at all,” the blond reassured with a blank face.

Bucciarati told the Jazz kids to head out. He’d been teaching classes lately for extra funding, but parents were starting to move over to the newer and bigger place down the street. As the kids filtered out, Mista watched them go, high-fiving and congratulating them on their way out. He always liked the kids, even if they were only, like, 7. Mista reminded the last kid to do his homework as he headed out the room. The parents waved to Mista, a few of the single moms a bit more enthusiastically. He shut the door and turned to see Bucciarati waving him, Fugo, and Narancia over.

“Welcome to Passione. The guys you see here are all my main stars! I’m Bruno Bucciarati, this is my assistant Leone Abbacchio,” Abbacchio gave a disinterested hum, but Mista could tell he was eyeing the two, “Then this is Fugo,” he nodded, “Narancia,” he waved at the two, which the girl reciprocated, “and Mista,” Mista gave them a bright smile, which the girl also reciprocated, but the boy did not, much to Mista’s disappointment. In fact, Mista is pretty sure the boy has had the same neutral face on since he walked in here. Not that he was looking.

Bucciarati continued, “You all can get acquainted later. For now, let’s have a chat. I’ll be back boys.”

As Bucciarati lead the two to his office, Mista got a view of the boys back. A nice view considering the weird long sleeved turtleneck thing had an open back. And god damn what an ass.

He was practically drooling when he got poked in the side, “Ow! Hey!” He turned to see Fugo giving him the same look as before. Fugo leaned over to whisper to Narancia. Narancia widened his eyes and looked ready to bounce off the walls in excitement, “What’re ya whisperin’ about?”

“Oh, nothing important,” Fugo paused before continuing, “So, Mista. I wasn’t aware you were gay,” Narancia started giggling, which made Fugo’s smile grow.

“Huh?! Wha- I- I’m not! What are you talking about?!”

“You barely even gave that girl a second glance once you saw the guy with her.”

“Hehe~ Yeah!”

“Yeah, you were totally drooling over his ass just now,” Abbacchio cut in dryly. Narancia started laughing again, and Fugo looked like he was holding back his own laugh.

“Wha?! Guys! No way! I was just- uh- appreciating!”

“I don’t think that’s the right word. I’m thinking... concupiscent,” Fugo stated.

“What’s that mean?” Narancia inquired.

“It means he wants the blond to suck him off ,” Abbacchio says, which a disgusted look on his face.

“Or maybe he wants to-“

“I don’t want anything! God... you guys are being the worst right now!”

Mista was sure his face was redder than a tomato. But the others just looked proud of themselves. Not cool guys. Mista stomped back over to the side, plopped down, and drank some more water. The others continued to, presumably, make fun of Mista from afar.

Eventually, Bucciarati came back out of his office with the other two in tow, “You guys can show your stuff next time, for now, you can chitchat with the others. I have some more things to clean up before I close up, so let me know when you’re all ready to go.”

They nodded, then turned to see Narancia beckoning them over, “Hey guys! Bucciarati already introduced us. How about your names?”

“I’m Trish!” The girl answered.

“Giorno,” the blond said. Damn what a pretty name.

“What do you guys do?” Fugo asked.

“We both do ballet. I do contemporary, but Giorno over here is way less chill,” Giorno looked like he wanted to say something, but must have decided not to.

“Me and Narancia do tango.”

“And how does that work?” Trish asked with amusement.

“I do the girl part! I only do it because Fugo refuses to wear the dress.”

“Well, that is completely unjust of him,” Giorno said.

Trish nodded, “Yeah. We should totally make him wear the dress at least once.”

Narancia’s mouth made an ‘o’ as he walked over to Trish. He hugged her arm and glared at Mista and Fugo, “Friendship ended with Fugo and Mista. Trish and Giorno are my friends now.”

“Hey! Why’re you ditching me?!”

“Don’t leave me with him!” Mista looked over to Fugo and made a pained expression. Fugo crossed him arms and looked away. Narancia stuck his tongue out at them.

Narancia then wrapped his arms around Trish and Giorno’s shoulders, “So! Now that we’re bffs what should we do?”

“Perhaps we should get tea,” Giorno offered.

Narancia jumped off of them in excitement, “Great idea! You coming Fugo?”

“I thought our friendship ended,” Fugo replied stubbornly, arms still crossed.

“Nooooo! Fugooooo! Pleeeeeaasseee?”

“Alright! Alright, stop whining.”

“Yay!” Narancia jumped up and tackled Fugo again. Fugo caught him without falling to the floor this time (Fugo was surprisingly strong, especially with all the practice doing tango with a clumsy Narancia). The tips of Fugo’s ears started to go a little red.

“You can- *ahem*- you can let go now.”

“Hmmm. No. I think you should carry me.”

Fugo deadpanned and dropped Narancia down onto the floor, “Ow!! Why you-“

Fugo sprinted out the door, Narancia close behind.

“I’ll grab the idiots bags,” Abbacchio said.

“We should probably head after them, before they commit some sort of crime.”

“Are they together?” Giorno asked.

Mista leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Not yet. But they totally should be, right?”

Trish nodded sagely, “Most definitely.”

“We’re heading down now!” Abbacchio called.

“Alright!” Came the muffled voice of Bucciarati, “I’ll be down in a sec!”

“C’mon!” Mista turned and held the door open.

“Thanks!” Trish said as she began going down the steps two at a time.

“Thank you,” Giorno nodded at him politely. Mista nodded back, trying to conceal his enthusiasm at being spoken to.

Mista almost went to go down the stairs after him, before he realized Abbacchio still had yet to go out. He tapped his foot impatiently and Abbacchio looked at him, “Keep it in your pants man.”

“I-!”

Abbacchio was already halfway down the stairs. Mista decided to wait for Bucciarati, just to prove a point. And also because it’s the gentleman thing to do. Right.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Bucciarati said as he stepped out of his office.

“It’s fine! We can head down together,” Bucciarati nodded and smiled.

Chapter Text

Giorno was eyeing Mista from across the table.

Giorno was surprised to find that he was so distracted by him. Well... he was kinda attractive. His tan skin had a nice tone to it, which would actually contrast Giorno’s own skin- wait. That’s not something he should be thinking. But... he had a really nice hair color too. Dark brown, bordering on black (which would also go with Giorno’s hair, which, Giorno wasn’t thinking). His hair was half covered by a pastel purple beanie. His form was mostly obscured by a big red sweatshirt, and black sweatpants. But he looked like he might be more on the muscular side. The way he was talking (Giorno didn’t know what he was talking about. Something about the origin of beets) so animatedly made a few of the female patrons look over to their table. Giorno felt strangely uncomfortable about all the women that always seemed to be looking at Mista.

The conversation lulled a bit, since Mista had finished telling his story, and Fugo seemed to be trying not to burst out screaming. So Giorno decided to ask, “Mista, you never told us what you do.”

Mista’s eyes lit up a bit, “Oh yeah! I totally forgot. I do street dancing. Well, it’s technically called Hip-hop. Well, you would already know that. I mean, you’re a dancer too, so why wouldn’t you-“

“Mista, you’re rambling,” Fugo cut him off. Mista seemed to blush a little, but didn’t say anything else.

“Say,” Narancia pondered for a second, “why’re you guys wearing... umm... l-le-... Fugo, what’s it called again?”

“Leotards?” Fugo said while taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah! Why’re you guys wearing leotards?”

“To show off our hot bods,” Trish said, making a duck face and pushing her chest out a bit. Mista, Fugo, and Bucciarati seemed to choke on their drinks a bit.

Giorno smacked her arm and corrected her, “We were testing out a gym Trish wanted to go to.”

“R-right. That’s good. Well- I mean- not that you don’t have-“

“Mista. Stop now while you still have your dignity,” Abbacchio cut in this time.

Giorno huffed out a small laugh, but of course, Trish caught it. She started practically vibrating in her seat with excitement, and grabbed Giorno’s arm.

The waitress came over with plates of desserts, which caught Mista’s attention, and Trish’s, thankfully.

“Your Orange Tart,” she placed the plate in front of Narancia, who was only stopped from eating it immediately by a smack upside the head from Fugo, “Strawberry Tart for you,” that went to Fugo, “Dragon Fruit Custard,” for Bucciarati, “Blueberry danish,” for Abbacchio, “Cherry macaroons,” for Trish, “Chocolate covered Madeleines,” for Giorno, “and lastly, a slice of strawberry cake, just for you,” she smiled as she put the plate in front of Mista.

Mista smiled back at her with, in Giorno’s opinion, a rather charming smile. Apparently the waitress felt the same, because she blushed and giggled like some sort of annoying school girl. Trish must have noticed him squinting at the girl, because she intervened, “Hey Mista, I have an extremely important conversation I need to have with you.”

The waitress scowled at Trish for interrupting, but caught Giorno’s cold glare and walked off. Giorno schooled his face back into neutrality. God... what was he doing? Why was he glaring at this woman for talking to a stranger, that Giorno knows basically nothing about? Giorno tuned back in, to see what Trish could come up with. She’s going to be talking to him later.

“What do you think caterpillars smell like?”

“Lavender, of course,” Mista said with complete seriousness.

“Woah woah woah. What? Caterpillars don’t smell like lavender,” Fugo said.

“Uh. Yeah they do.”

“... Fugo. Fact check that for me,” Abbacchio said.

Fugo whipped out his phone with practiced speed and read what he found, “There is literally nothing. No one says that a caterpillar smells like lavender. Some people say it smells bad. But no lavender, you psycho.”

“What?! I’m like, 1000% sure on this one.”

“Why don’t we go find a caterpillar right now?” Narancia jumped up from his seat.

“How about you finish your food first,” Bucciarati said calmly, “we can go caterpillar hunting after, ok?”

“Ok!” Narancia hummed happily and continued to eat his pastry.

For a bit, they just ate in silence. Trish had pulled out her phone and was scrolling through Instagram. Suddenly she gasped. Giorno peered over her shoulder and saw what she was looking at.

“Trish, no.”

“But Giorno! Look at it!”

Giorno grabbed the phone out of her hand, only for it to be grabbed by Narancia, who was sitting next to him.

“That’s a nice mustang,” he zoomed in, “got a bad paint job, and has a couple scuffs on it though.”

Fugo grabbed the phone next, “Look at his eyes. He’s totally on something,” Narancia nodded in agreement.

Mista was next, “And look at his hair. He never washes it and thinks slicking it to the side with its own oils is enough.”

Abbacchio grabbed the phone, “And look how washed out he is in every picture. He probably just looks like that all the time.”

Bucciarati grabbed it and handed it to Trish, “You guys shouldn’t just steal phones like that.”

Giorno grabbed it again, “More importantly, look at his comments. Every girl that said anything remotely nice he replied with something creepy. Just like Henry. Remember how well that went?”

Trish grabbed it back, “Yeah, you’re all probably right,” she pouted for a second before lighting up, “You guys are great wingmen! We should totally meet up to go through my list!”

“List?” Mista leaned forward.

“Trish has a list of guys we’ve been going through. I’ve been trying to make sure she doesn’t date the wrong men again. ”

Mista nodded, “Sis, I don’t know who you were with before, but you deserve the best. So you better not settle for people like oily there.”

Trish looked like she was about to cry, “Man... you’re totally right! Giorno, how come you never say that?”

“I literally told you that yesterday.”

“Mista said it better,” Trish waved him off, “Jeez, gay people are the best.”

Giorno smacked her arm, “You can’t just assume.”

Mista looked like he was about to say something, but Narancia cut him off, “Don’t worry, he’s totally gay.”

“What about Jessica?” Abbacchio pointed out.

“Bisexual, then,” Fugo corrected.

“I- Wha- you- Ugh! I’m not gay!”

“Yeah, we said Bisexual,” Narancia said.

“Guys, stop bothering him,” Bucciarati tutted.

“Ugh thank-“

“He’ll come out when he’s ready.”

“You too?! Bucciarati why?! How could you betray me like that?! I thought I was the favorite child!”

“Bruno doesn’t pick favorites,” Abbacchio scowled.

“You must have a favorite, then,” Giorno decided.

“Who?” Trish asked excitedly.

Abbacchio looked at everyone’s expectant eyes, and then back down at his plate, “Fugo.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Wha?!”

“But he’s mean to me!”

“Leone! You shouldn’t have a favorite!”

“Yeah yeah. I was joking,” he looked up at Fugo with a look that decidedly meant he wasn’t joking. Though, that might have been a joke too, Giorno couldn’t tell.

“Whatever,” Mista pouted, “I have another important question.”

Everyone turned to Mista, “What’s the difference between condiments... and dip.”

“You dip things in dip,” Fugo answered sharply.

“Well yeah, but don’t you dip French fries in ketchup? Are you calling ketchup a dip?” Trish cut in.

Giorno decided to go along with the dumb conversation this time. So he refuted Trish with, “You can also dip French fries in a milkshake. Are you calling a milkshake a condiment?”

Narancia and Mista ‘ooooo’ed at that, and Bucciarati raised an amused eyebrow.

“Does that make milk a condiment? OO OR a dip because you can dip cookies!” Narancia claimed excitedly.

“N-“

“Or is milk a dressing?” Abbachio said with a strait face.

“WHAT?!” Fugo was red in the face with anger.

“Yeah! Change your question Mista. What’s the difference between condiments, dip, and dressing,” Trish said.

“No no no! Stop! Pause. What do you mean is milk a dressing?!” Fugo was gripping the table tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

Bucciarati decided to answer, “Well, can’t you add various amounts of milk to cereal? You can simply drizzle it, or soak it.”

“So is cereal a soup or a salad?” Giorno asked.

“ Cereal ,” Fugo hissed, “is FUCKING CEREAL!”

“Hm. Well, I think you should let the cereal decide, Fugo. You shouldn’t just assume like that,” Narancia said with a frown.

“It literally can’t decide!”

“Wow, Fugo,” Trish shook her head, “No need to oppress cereal lives like that.”

“Yeah, Fugo. Cereal lives matter,” Mista said and crossed his arms.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pro cereal lives matter,” Abbachio said and sipped his drink.

“You really should change your mindset, Fugo. It’s 2020, and cereal lives matter,” Giorno said matter-of-factly.

“...”

Narancia laughed first. Followed by Mista (Giorno found his laugh extremely contagious), followed by Trish, followed by Bucciarati. Giorno only allowed a small smile to play on his lips. And Abbacchio didn’t smile at all, but Giorno could see the laughter in his eyes. Fugo tried to keep a strait face for as long as possible, but, as Giorno suspected, he wouldn’t have lasted long solely because of Narancia’s laugh.

The waitress came back over with the check. Trish started saying something about wanting to pay her share, and Giorno was about to say the same. But he noticed the waitress slip a small piece of paper in place of Mista’s plate. Mista had his head propped up in his palm, with his elbow resting on the table. He grabbed the paper with the other hand, and stared at it for less than a second. He just passed the paper in front of Narancia, who grabbed it. Narancia looked at it before passing it to Fugo, saying, “Just another.” Fugo nodded, and didn’t look at the slip of paper before shoving it in his pocket.

This short, not even 5 second exchange, had Giorno asking many questions. What was on the paper? Was it her name? No that can’t be it, she has a name tag. Her number then? Why would she give Mista her number? No wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course she did. But Mista barely even registered it. Does he just not think she’s attractive? Or does he just get a lot of numbers? Probably the latter. He must get them often, because Narancia had basically said as much. Does he usually pass them off to Narancia? Why did Fugo stick it in his pocket? Are they saving it for later? Does that mean Mista does think she’s attractive? But if this happens often, he certainly doesn’t accept everyone’s number. Right? Would he want my number? Wait, no we’re not supposed to be thinking those things. Regardless, he wouldn’t want my number like that. He said he was strait. Well, he said he wasn’t gay, but that basically means strait. He-

“Giorno?”

Giorno turned his head to see Trish looking at him worriedly, “Yes- yes, sorry. What is it?”

“It’s fine,” she said, but Giorno was sure she was still suspicious, “You just spaced out for a sec there. Bucciarati said he’d pay for us today. As a welcome gift.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you.”

“Of course! It’s nothing much.”

“Can we head out now?” Abbachio asked impatiently.

“Yes, we can.”

“Caterpillars!!” Narancia jumped up from his seat.

“Hell yeah!!” Mista jumped up after him.

Fugo shook his head, exasperated. He turned to Giorno, “Let’s trade numbers real quick. I’ll give you guys Narancia and Mista’s, too. I’ll give them yours later.”

Giorno pulled out his phone and handed it to Fugo. Fugo put his own, then Narancia’s. He had to check his own contacts for Mista’s, though. Bucciarati and Abbacchio’s too. He did the same for Trish, and then Trish grabbed Fugo’s phone to do her and Giorno’s numbers.

“Sorry in advance if Mista makes a dumb group chat,” Fugo said before getting up to catch up with the other two. Bucciarati and Abbachio left soon after.

But, as expected, Trish stayed seated, arms crossed.

Chapter Text

“Don’t think I didn’t hear it.”

“Yeah,” Giorno sighed, “I know.”

“And don’t think I didn’t see that either.”

“Yeah. I get it. Cut to the chase please.”

Trish squealed and practically tackled Giorno. Thank goodness they were sitting in a booth, because Giorno would’ve fallen out of a chair.

“You have a crush don’t you!”

“No way!”

Trish got off of him and stared at him, face blank, “Don’t lie to me. I know all.”

“Wh- I’m not lying. I don’t have time for that kind of thing anyway.”

“No! You totally do! You need to relax and give yourself something nice for once!” Trish wiggled her eyebrows, “and Mista is pretty nice.”

Giorno scoffed, “I don’t need anything nice,” Trish was about to point out that he didn’t deny Mista’s ‘nice’-ness, but Giorno continued, “I see no point in indulging in such a useless thing. Regardless, we are here to look for a good choreographer, not a new update to my dating life.”

“What do you mean useless?! Your happiness isn’t useless at all! C’mon... at least don’t rule it out completely...” Trish was giving him puppy eyes.

Giorno didn’t answer for a second. Just sat, trying to weigh his options. If he accepted, Trish would be satisfied until she decided that Giorno needed to date, but he’d also probably be more distracted, but... he also might finally be happy... But. If he denied, he would be able to focus on important things, Trish might be disappointed, but she’d respect his decision, and he wouldn’t have to let anyone in.

Giorno took a deep breath, “Fine.”

Trish cheered and jumped up from her seat. Giorno tried to calm her down, but instead decided to just pull her outside.

“We have to prepare right away!!” Trish breathed.

“Prepare? Oh no... what have I done.”

Trish grabbed her things and started running off towards the shopping districts. Giorno grabbed his own things and tried to catch up with her.

Chapter Text

Fugo ran after Narancia and Mista in hopes of catching them.

They had run a couple streets down, and were crouching in front of a tree. They heard Fugo coming up behind them, and turned to greet him.

“Fugo! Look! We found one already!” Narancia smiled.

“Yeah?” Fugo placated with a huff of breath, “How’s it smell, then?”

Mista huffed and crossed his arms, “Listen. I’m serious! It must be, like, a different species or something!”

Narancia laughed, and Fugo smirked at Mista, “Looks like you’ll have to tell Giorno about that one.”

“Ugh! Stop it with that!”

Narancia gave a maniacal laugh, “Never! It’s too funny! You were always like, ‘I’m strait! Look at me! I kiss girls!’. When was the last time you even kissed a girl? Or anyone, really.”

“I don’t sound like that! And it was-... oh.”

“Oh?” Fugo leaned forward.

Mista mumbled something.

“Speak up, will you?”

Mista cleared his throat, “Two years.”

Fugo looked over to Narancia. And they both erupted with laughter. Fugo clutched his stomach and doubled over, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Narancia fell onto his back and kicked his legs up. Mista just sat with his arms crossed, pouting.

“You-“ Fugo tried to start, “Holy shit!”

“What are we laughing at?”

Fugo turned to see Bucciarati and Abbacchio making their way over to them. He wiped at the corners of his eyes.

“Mista- he,” Narancia huffed, “he hasn’t kissed anyone in two years!”

“That’s extremely depressing,” Abbacchio said.

“And extremely hilarious,” Fugo added.

“Oh... Come on guys. You shouldn’t make fun of him,” Bucciarati frowned.

“Awww...” Narancia looked down at the ground.

“Mista has just been focusing on other things. I’m sure he’ll be able to find the right person soon,” Bucciarati tried to assure, “Apologize, please.”

Fugo huffed and crossed his arms, “Yeah yeah. Sorry.”

Narancia leapt up and jumped on top of Mista, “I’m sorry too!”

Mista’s voice was muffled from under Narancia, “‘S fine.”

“Are we ready to head out?” Bucciarati asked.

Narancia jumped up again, high energy as always, “Yeah! C’mon Fugo!” He grabbed Fugo’s hand, which was completely unnecessary, Fugo almost moved to pull away.

Narancia smiled sweetly as he started pulling Fugo. His smile turned devious as he said, “Mista left the last piece of brownie unprotected.”

“Hey!” Mista scrambled to get up to chase after them. Narancia just laughed again as he pulled Fugo, and they ran faster. Fugo smiled to himself. Narancia was always so dumb.

Chapter Text

Today felt like it was going to be a good day. Mista woke up happy, and he was planning on staying happy. He’d just have to be careful around Morning Fugo.

Mista threw on his favorite dark blue cropped hoodie, some ripped grey jeans, and his best sneakers. He plucked his hat off his nightstand and skipped down the stairs. Abbacchio and Bucciarati were already downstairs, Abbacchio sipping at his black coffee and Bucciarati making himself tea to go with his muffin.

“Good morning Mista.”

“Mornin’!”

“You sound unnaturally happy for the morning,” Abbacchio said.

“I don’t know man! Today just seems like a day to be happy.”

“That’s good! Maybe you should take notes, Leone.”

Abbacchio just scowled. Mista sat and started eating his breakfast. Fugo came down next, looking an absolute mess. His hair was everywhere, his pajamas wrinkled, he was slouching, and his eyes looked dead. He was always basically useless before he had his coffee. Mista was feeling nice, so he mixed the coffee for Fugo, which he also had to be careful with. If there was one grain of sugar missing, Fugo would get pissed. Slight exaggeration, but also not at all.

Last was Narancia, who came down in a dark orange cropped sweatshirt and black cargo pants, his usual orange headband lopsided on his head.

As soon as Narancia saw Mista he gasped, “Twinzies!”

“Shhhh...” Fugo said, his voice fading out at the end.

“Oops. Sorry,” Narancia whispered. He turned back towards Mista, “We’re matching.”

“Yeah~,” Mista turned to Bucciarati, “What’s the game plan for the day?”

“I have two morning classes to teach,” Bucciarati said as he placed Narancia’s plate in front of him, “You guys can relax this morning. But at two Trish and Giorno will be coming in, so I figured I could show you guys off.”

“Got it,” Narancia said with a mouthful of food.

Fugo smacked him upside the head, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Sorry.”

“Make sure you don’t trip, Mista,” Abbacchio said ominously.

“Leone, don’t stress him out. You’ll do fine Mista. It’s not a very important thing anyway.”

Mista had to disagree. This felt extremely important. He didn’t want to embarrass himself or Bucciarati. He supposed this was to show off Bucciarati’s choreography to convince the two ballerinas to stay at the studio.

Abbacchio groaned at his phone, so Bucciarati looked at him questioningly.

“Ris got a spot on the news.”

Bucciarati sighed. La Squadra, as they so stupidly called themselves, was the dance studio across the street. They always seemed to have a strange need to one up Passione . They were the worst especially that one guy with purple hair, he was always being a creep. Their teacher was terrifying, too. He was huge and had an obsession with Metallica. Enough said.

“They’re really starting to grate on my nerves,” Bucciarati admitted.

“Starting?”

“Those guys are total jerks. Don’t let ‘em get to you Bucciarati,” Narancia comforted.

“I know.”

“It would be nice to show off and prove to their stupid idiot faces that we’re better,” Fugo commented groggily.

Bucciarati thought about what Fugo said for a second, “Maybe. We’ll see when Giorno and Trish join is.”

“You mean if?” Abbacchio sipped his drink.

“No. I mean when. I’m confident in our abilities.”

The conversation drifted on from there. Eventually, Abbacchio and Bucciarati left, Bucciarati with a kiss to Narancia and Mista’s cheeks. Fugo went back upstairs to get dressed, and came back down wearing a big black shirt with holes littered all over it, a bright green belt around his waist, black leggings with more holes, and white boots. Mista caught Narancia’s gaze lingering for a split second longer.

“What do you wanna do for the morning while we’re waiting?”

“Wonder around town?” Narancia asked.

“Maybe something more enjoyable,” Fugo said dryly.

“Anything is enjoyable with you Fugo!”

Fugo’s eyes widened a bit and his ears started to go red, “uh- I- uhm- well. Sure. Anything except math.”

“Ouch bro,” Mista said before leaning to whisper in Narancia’s ear, “That was pretty smooth, dude. I approve.”

Narancia smiled at him, his own cheeks a little pink.

“Why don’t- uhm. Why don’t we head out then,” Fugo said as he straightened himself.

Narancia skipped out the door and to the street. Fugo followed with a more stiff, brisk walk. Mista capped off the group with his usual relaxed gait.

They wondered down the streets for a little, Fugo and Narancia bickering about whatever they could, and Mista adding to it.

“Oh! Almost forgot. Hand me your phones, will you?”

Narancia relinquished his phone without asking anything, but Mista was significantly less in love with Fugo, and didn’t trust him, “What for?”

“Yesterday, I had the foresight to get Trish and Giorno’s numbers.”

Mista gave up his phone.

“I already gave them yours and Bruno and Abbacchio’s. And I warned them you might make a dumb group chat.”

“Hey! You know you love the one with just the three of us!”

“Yeah, Fugo. You can’t hide it!”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Say, Mista, we should add them to the one with Bucciarati and Abbacchio. So it’s like a big thing. But we can make one just for us ‘kids’.”

“Don’t worry Mista,” Fugo smirked, “We’ll keep the one with just us three so you can talk about Giorno .”

“Will you stop it with that?!”

Fugo and Narancia laughed evilly.

“Lunchtime!” Narancia yelled as he ran off towards the shops.

“What’s up with him and running?!” Fugo said as he ran after him.

Mista took a breath and then began to sprint after them. It’s a good thing Mista is so fast, he was able to order for all of them, which means he didn’t have to pay. It’s also a good thing Fugo is unused to running (well, not for Fugo) because the last one has to pay.

After eating they continued to meander around, until Mista got a text from Bucciarati.

Mom: It’s 2. Are you guys on your way back?

“Oh shit!”

“Huh? What?” Narancia turned to him.

“It’s two! We gotta head out!”

They all sprinted to the studio. Luckily they were already headed in that direction, so they showed up only a couple minutes late. They slammed the door open, panting. Mista saw Giorno and Trish stretching and talking to each other. The two ballerinas turned to the door. Mista threw up his arms and put his hands behind his head, and walked in like he wasn’t late.

“Hey Bucciarati!”

“Nice of you to join us. Mista, Fugo, Narancia,” Abbacchio scowled.

“We’re super sorry!” Narancia cried.

“It’s fine guys,” Bucciarati smiled, like the saint he is.

The three of them walked over to where Trish and Giorno sat on the floor stretching. Giorno was wearing another black long-sleeved, turtlenecked, leotard, but the sleeves were lace, and over that he had on a short, sheer black skirt. Trish had on one that looked like the sleeves might slip off her shoulders, they were so far out.

“Hey guys!” Narancia said as he plopped down next to them.

“Hello,” Giorno said politely.

“Heeeyy~!” Trish said.

“What’re you guys stretching for?” Narancia asked.

“That’s a stupid question, Narancia,” Fugo hissed.

“It’s quite alright,” Giorno assured, “We simply stretch to make sure we can do all of our moves, as well as not pull a muscle.”

“Ohhhhhhhh. That makes sense!”

Giorno nodded at him, and Trish smiled.

Then Trish jumped a little as she remembered something. She turned to Giorno, “Did I tell you what Bethany did?”

“Last week?”

“No, this week.”

“Who’s Bethany?” Narancia interrupted.

This time Mista scolded him, “Don’t interrupt! I wanna know what Bethany did!”

Giorno gave a small laugh and Trish explained, “We went to high school together. I still follow her on Facebook, so I get to know all the things she shouldn’t be sharing, but does anyway.”

Giorno turned back to Trish, “What did she do?”

“Ugh! You’ll never believe it! She had the audacity to cheat on John with Aaron!”

“The same Aaron that cheated on you?”

“Yeah!”

“How’s John?”

“I don’t think he knows yet! How terrible is that?!”

“How does he not know?” Narancia asked.

“He’s such a sweet guy, I think he just thinks they’re friends.”

“Ouch. That’s gonna hurt,” Mista said.

“Right? I feel bad for the guy.”

“Yeah, that’s a dick move from Bethany,” Fugo said.

“Haha! Small pp energy!” Narancia laughed.

“Must be ceiling gang,” Mista shook his head, then glared up at the ceiling.

“...Ceiling gang?” Giorno questioned.

“Yeah,” Narancia confirmed, “We don’t frick with ceiling gang. Don’t worry though, you guys are floor gang.”

“Floor gang?” Trish snorted.

“Just... accept your fate,” Fugo shook his head. Mista smiled at Fugo.

“Who wants to start?” Bucciarati called out.

Trish hopped up, “I’ll go! I have something I’ve been working on, so I was hoping to get some tips!”

“Alright, I’ll adjust things as you go.”

“Cool,” Trish stepped into the middle of the floor. The rest of them shifted off to the side of the room. Giorno continued to stretch out his legs, but Mista wasn’t paying attention to that. Promise.

Trish took a breath and straitened her back. She looked over at Giorno with a blank face. He leaned over and tapped at her phone with one hand real quick, then gave her a thumbs up. She stood still in her first pose when Mista heard the opening notes. She started to move along with the music, she kept it very smooth. Whenever there was a move she was unsure of, she faltered a little, and when she did Bucciarati suggested either how to improve it, or something to replace it with. She only had about a minute of the song figured out, so she stopped early.

“I already have a good idea for the rest of that song,” Bucciarati said.

“That’s good, I was starting to wonder how to finish it. And thanks for the pointers.”

“That’s literally my job, it’s no trouble,” Trish went and sat back next to Giorno, “Hm. Fugo, do you want to to grab your shoes in the back?”

“Wait, I’m going?”

“Well, you and Narancia’s dance isn’t done yet. So I figured you should at least do something .”

“What? Are you scared Fugo?” Narancia asked.

“O-of course not! Let me go get my shoes!”

“What shoes?” Trish asked Mista.

“He used to do tap. So tap shoes.”

Fugo came back out with his tap shoes on. They were white with black laces, and the metal underneath was a bit worn. He looked a little embarrassed.

“Which song?” Fugo asked as he fiddled with the end of his shirt.

“I was thinking ‘Gotta Get Thru This’.” {AN: this mans arms give me motion sickness. Pretend they aren’t there Bc I hate them}

Fugo looked up at Bucciarati, “Not your favorite one?”

“I figured we could save that one.”

“Save it?”

“Ready?”

“Oh! Yeah.”

Fugo shook his arms out and tapped his shoe a couple times before nodding. Bucciarati turned on the song and Fugo spun around. Fugo was still really good at tap, even if it had been a while. Mista wondered what Bucciarati was talking about with saving (in Mista’s opinion) Fugo’s best dance. Wouldn’t it make sense to show off the best to convince Trish and Giorno to stay? Mista isn’t the boss, though, so maybe that’s just how business works. Fugo finished up his routine, and they all clapped for him.

“You did so good, Fugo!” Narancia said.

“I could literally never do that!” Trish exclaimed, and Giorno nodded in agreement.

“It- it’s nothing really...” Fugo started messing with the hem of his shirt again.

“Don’t sell yourself short man!” Mista tried to encourage.

“Be more confident in yourself,” Abbacchio grumbled. That basically translated to ‘I’m confident in you, so you should be too’.

Fugo moved back to sit next to the rest of them when Bucciarati spoke again, “Narancia, do you want to do ‘Black Widow’?” {AN: bro the song doesn’t start till a minute in smh}

Narancia jumped up, his excitement clear, “Yeah! Let me grab my shoes!”

Trish leaned back towards Mista, “What about him?”

“I actually don’t know.”

When Narancia came back out Fugo and Trish gasped, and Mista’s eyes widened. He had on thigh highs. He had even taken off his cargo pants in place of cheer shorts.

Giorno was the first to speak, his voice even and his face still blank, “Narancia, you pull those off rather well. What do you think, Fugo?” Damn, the first thing he went for is bullying Fugo. This guy is great.

“I-I-y-ye-uh-yeah,” Fugo fumbled.

“Bitch those are stunning! You need to tell me where you got those! Because now I need them for the next time Giorno and I go out!” Trish looked ecstatic.

“I’ll send you a link!” Narancia smiled.

“Ready?” Bucciarati asked.

“Yup!”

Bucciarati must have skipped forward in the song, because it started in the middle. Narancia immediately started, somehow still being able to move in heels. Mista knows he would probably die if he tried that. Narancia did extremely well, and he never fell over, which would be enough for Mista to say he did good.

Everyone clapped again, “ Damn! That was so good! Don’t you think, Fugo?” Trish smiled at Fugo with fake innocence.

Fugo barely even sputtered out his conformation. Mista decided to use actual words, “Yeah, you totally pulled that off! I could never.”

“I don’t know Mista, I think you’d look good in heels,” Trish said as she elbowed Giorno.

“Doesn’t mean I could walk in them.”

“I’ll train you!” Narancia said.

“...You would look rather dashing in heels,” Giorno said, facing away from Mista.

“R-right. Maybe we could all go shopping or something...” Mista mumbled, he could tell his face was red.

“Who wants to go next?” Bucciarati inquired.

“I’ll go, if you don’t mind, Mista,” Mista shook his head, “Alright. I don’t have any dance like Trish. I’ve had an idea for a while, but it’s been turned down multiple times. So I figure it’s not a good idea.”

“Probably isn’t,” Abbacchio grumbled.

“Leone,” Bucciarati scolded, “I’m sure it’s great. I’ll help you work it out. For now, how about you just do some classics.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hm... can you do ‘32 Fouettés’?” {AN:I would fall and die ngl}

“Yes, I can,” Giorno confirmed as he stepped into the centre of the room. Bucciarati turned on a song Mista hadn’t heard before, and Giorno kicked off the ground onto one foot, standing on the tip of his shoe. Jesus! How can you stand on the tip of a shoe like that?! Giorno spun around to the beat and Mista wondered how many times he could spin before getting dizzy. Did Bucciarati say 32? That’s a lot! What the hell?! Giorno finished off with a flourish of his arms as the music ended. Everyone applauded again.

“You did all of them this time!” Trish said proudly.

“He couldn’t do all before?” Fugo asked.

“The last time I tried, I only got up to 30,” Giorno answered.

“Then why’d you say you could do it,” Abbacchio asked angrily.

“Because I was sure I could do it this time.”

Bucciarati smiled approvingly (like the mom he is) and Abbacchio scowled.

“What did you think Mista?” Narancia nudged him.

“It was super good! I couldn’t even do one,” Mista tried to say as clear as possible.

Giorno smiled a bit, “I’m glad you think so.”

“Do you want to do anything else?” Bucciarati interrupted.

“If there’s something else you think I should do.”

“How about the Sugar Plum Fairy?” {AN: classic}

“I can do that. Yes, Abbacchio, seriously,” Abbacchio looked ready to beat Giorno’s head in for that.

Giorno walked over to a corner of the dance space and waited for Bucciarati to turn on the music. This song, Mista is sure he’s heard somewhere before. Maybe this is a really popular ballet thing. Mista watched closely as the song progressed, the foot work was fantastic. There was more standing on just his toe, and it was relatively fast paced. At one point in the song, it must have been the main part, Mista knew he’s heard this before. Giorno moved around with small, delicate movements that matched with the small, cute beats of the song. At the end it got really fast, but Giorno spun in an oval around the space with the same speed. The song finished off with a cute little ding and Giorno stopped. There was more applause, and even Abbacchio seemed to have mildly enjoyed it.

“That’s probably my favorite rendition of the sugar plum fairy,” Fugo said.

“It was so pretty!” Narancia claimed.

“You pulled it off especially good this time, Giorno!” Trish smiled.

“That was absolutely stunning,” Mista stated. You’re absolutely stunning. No wait-

“You’ve definitely got skill I can work with,” Bucciarati nodded.

Giorno went to sit back down, “Thank you.”

Mista hopped up, “it’s my turn now, yeah?”

“Yup! Do you want to do ‘Me And My Broken Heart’?” {AN: this one’s a bit wack, but you only have to watch the first thing. It’s just the same choreography over and over so}

“Oooo~ yeah, I like that one.”

Bucciarati smiled and Mista walked towards his spot. He shook out his arms, checked his shoes, and then got into ‘serious mode’. The song came on and Mista started walking towards the center of the room. He had just recently finished perfecting this song, and now he was doing it in front of two new people. He made sure to hit the notes extra on time, and make all of his movements as smooth as possible. Mista focused on his dance, and soon enough it was over. He breathed as the world came back around him, along with everyone clapping for him. He stood up strait and smiled sheepishly as he got bombarded with praise.

“That was hot Mista!” Narancia said.

Fugo smacked him upside the head, “Yeah, it was pretty good.”

“I liked that a lot,” Trish squealed.

“That was my favorite one,” Giorno said with a light smile. Mista kinda felt like he might faint.

“That turned out really good! I liked the little pizazz you added to it,” Bucciarati exclaimed.

“Thanks you guys,” Mista rubbed the back of his neck.

“So,” Bucciarati clapped, “What do you think? Would you like to join us?”

Everyone looked expectantly at the two. Trish was looking expectantly at Giorno. Giorno huffed, then gave Trish a terse nod. She jumped up and hugged Giorno, “Yeah! We’re totally joining!” Narancia jumped up to join their hug, Bucciarati turned and smiled proudly at Abbacchio, who just crossed his arms and turned away, Fugo smiled and punched Mista in the arm, and Mista shook with excitement.

“You all can relax for the rest of the day,” Bucciarati addressed them, “We meet every Wednesday and Saturday, but you can come in any day, we’re always here.”

Giorno and Trish nodded, “We’ll be able to come Saturday, I have to reorganize me and Giorno’s schedules.”

Narancia jumped up and down, “You should totally come in on some of our other days! On those days we get to dance for the kids! They’re so cute! You don’t have to wear your leotards on those days, unless you want to.”

“Don’t stress them out,” Fugo scolded.

“Yeah dude, chillax,” Mista said.

“We should totally come in! By Saturday we should be good, so we can come in any day after that. What do you say Giorno?”

“I suppose we can.”

“Great! We can go through my list, and gossip about all the idiots on Facebook, maybe we can venture around town too!” Trish sounded super excited.

“Yeah!” Narancia sounded even more excited, “We can even take you guys out drinking!”

“Oh,” Giorno cut in, “I’m only 19, and Trish is only 20.”

Fugo waved them off, “This is New York City. They don’t ID.”

“If you guys do that, be careful,” Bucciarati warned.

“I can supervise,” Abbacchio said.

“Yeah right! You just want wine!” Mista called out.

Abbacchio just huffed and stalked off to Bucciarati’s office. Bucciarati went after him, saying something about cleaning up.

“I meant to ask,” Giorno started, “What’s that on your leg, Fugo?”

“Huh?” Fugo looked down.

“Yeah, there on your right thigh,” Trish clarified.

“Oh! That. It’s just a tattoo,” Fugo pushed his pants so the hole in his leggings showed his whole tattoo. It was a simple little purple skull, one of its eye-sockets was empty, but the other had an eye, the bottom, where it’s teeth would be, was drippy, like the whole thing was melting, and it had a few purple puffs of smoke around the sides.

“Me and Mista have them too!” Narancia pulled down the edge of his boots, which he hadn’t changed out of yet, to show a silhouette of an airplane.

“Uh yeah, I would show you mine, but I’d have to pull down my pants. And something’s telling me that isn’t a good idea.”

Giorno smiled at that, but turned back to inspect the others tattoos with Trish.

“You guys sure are-uh- interested in these tattoos,” Fugo pointed out.

“We aren’t allowed to have tattoos,” Trish explained.

“Why not?!” Narancia sounded appalled.

“A ballerinas skin has to be perfect. It looks better that way, on stage with others. Plus there is still quite a bit of older views in the industry,” Giorno answered, “Did it hurt? I heard it was terribly painful,” Trish nodded, as if to ask the same question.

“Depends on the person,” Mista answered, “And where you get it.”

“I see...”

“Doesn’t it hurt more where there’s more nerve endings or something?” Trish inquired.

Fugo nodded, “Places like the spine, the bottom of your foot, or your rib cage.”

“Does it rub off?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s under the skin, Trish. How would it rub off?” Giorno reasoned.

“Oh yeah! Can I touch it?”

“Trish!”

“What? It looks touchable.”

Fugo backed away a bit, but Narancia stepped forward, “Here.”

Trish poked Narancia’s airplane, and then looked at her finger, as if to check that it didn’t, in fact, rub off, “Woah. Touch it Giorno.”

“No way. That’s weird.”

“Your loss. Narancia has really soft skin.”

“You’re crazy.”

Narancia laughed and pulled his boot back up, Fugo fixed his pants back the way they were. Mista thought it was hilarious (and adorable) how they didn’t understand tattoos, as if they were some alien.

“Narancia, are you gonna walk out wearing that?” Mista asked.

“Maybe I am.”

“Bet,” Trish smiled.

“Well I’m going to change out of these tap shoes. I’ll be back.”

Narancia waved at him, and then turned to Mista with a worried look, “Do you think he likes the boots?”

Trish answered for him, “That man is absolutely enamored,” Giorno and Mista nodded in agreement.

Narancia breathed out nervously, “Ok... I don’t wanna wear these out for no reason...”

Mista smiled and patted him in the back. They headed out soon after, Giorno and Trish left, Trish mumbling about fixing her schedule. Mista was right this morning, today was totally a good day.

Chapter Text

“Idiot! What do you think you’re doing!”

“I- I’m-“

“Stop stuttering!”

“I’m sorry Papa...”

“Oh! And now your crying! I’m not here to raise a weakling! Boys don’t cry!”

Giorno sniffled, “Right. Sorry Papa.”

“Get out of my face.”

Giorno left right away. He walked into the living room, where his mother was sitting, reading.

“What is it, Haruno.”

“Nothing.”

“How about you watch some television.”

Giorno knew she just wanted him out of her hair, “Ok.”

Giorno turned it on to a random channel. What he saw on screen was stunning. There was a lady dancing in a beautiful white dress. It bounced each time she lifted her feet. She moved delicately and gracefully. Giorno wished he could be as pretty as her, and feel as carefree as she looked dancing. He knew he was supposed to be big and tough, but something about the lady made him think he didn’t have to be that.

He was quickly reminded, though, “Haruno! What’s that on television!”

He quickly flipped to a different channel.

Giorno jolted awake. Someone was by his bed speaking a language he didn’t understand. He jumped away from the figure.

“Per favore, non colpirmi! è stato un incidente!”

The figure sighed. It spoke to him in a calm, comforting voice, in a language he could understand, *“I won’t hit you. I promise. It’s me, Trish.”*

*“...Trish?”*

*“Yes. See?”* She reached out and grabbed his hand gently. Giorno sighed in relief at the familiar contact.

He breathed before trying to switch back into English, “Sorry,” his voice sounded unfamiliar, so full with emotion. He tried to force it all back down before he had a chance to cry.

“No need to be sorry,” reassured Trish, also moving back to English, “Are you ok?”

“Of course I’m ok,” Giorno said, his voice back to normal. Trish sighed, but didn’t press, and walked back over to her side of the room.

“We have our first meeting with Bruno today.”

Right. Giorno was in New York. Not Naples. And he was doing dance. It was useless to be sad. And Giorno hates feeling useless.

Giorno got up to get ready, but noticed that even though Trish was already dressed, she had an outfit laid out on her bed.

“Don’t worry, I tried it on to make sure it would cover it.”

“... right,” Giorno looked back at the leotard, “How did you get it on?”

Trish laughed, “Good to know you’re feeling well enough to make fun of me! The fabric stretched around my boobs just fine thank you.”

Giorno gave Trish a half smile.

He made his way to the bathroom to get ready. He glanced towards the mirror as he walked past, but turned around to do a double take. He looked terrible . Why didn’t Trish tell him? His hair was everywhere, most of it falling from where he tied it back for the night, there was still a bit of mascara on his lashes, and some of it had rubbed off under his eyes, he could only hope that none of it was on his pillow, and he looked dead tired. He looked more like a feral raccoon than a person. He groaned as he grabbed his hair products.

He walked out of the bathroom not feeling much better, but looking marginally better, which did lift his spirits a bit. Trish was lying on her stomach on her bed, phone already in hand. He sighed as he grabbed the leotard off the bed. He held it up and stared at it for a second. This one had no sleeves, unlike the rest of them, so it felt revealing in a way. He pulled off his big pajama shirt and slid on his pink stalkings, then slipped the leotard over himself. His arms felt strangely cold, and he went back over to the mirror. Trish was always good at shopping for Giorno, she knew exactly what size he was, and knew which parts of himself he should accentuate. Trish had always said he had a perfect body, but he would have to politely disagree. He huffed and decided he didn’t want to pick at his insecurities this morning. When he walked back into the bedroom, Trish was looking up at him.

“Hm... blue shoes today. That looks great on you, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Giorno walked over to grab the recommended shoes.

“No empty ‘thank you’s, please. Take compliments with pride.”

“Sorry,” Giorno mumbled.

“And stop being sorry. You gotta be tough!”

“That’s something, coming from you.”

“Ouch! No need to come at me. I’ve told you, I don’t need a man to be tough for me, I just need a nice guy with a nice car.”

“Really? Seems to me the car is the priority.”

“Wow. I did not wake up to be bullied.”

“Sor-“

“Don’t apologize!”

“That seems like something I should apologize for though.”

“Shhhhh. I know you’re joking, it’s fine.”

Giorno lightly rolled his eyes as he shoved his shoes into his bag, and finished putting on his slip on shoes. He nodded to Trish, and she grabbed her own things so they could make their way out.

Trish kept him distracted the whole way to the studio. She was talking about some new scandal that she read about in the news. Giorno was only really half paying attention, enough that his mind didn’t wander to something else. Trish was always good at keeping him from breaking down, but Giorno just wanted to be actually ok. Not just ‘patched up for now’ only to have to ‘re-patched’ later.

When they showed up, Trish stopped by the cafe to grab them both some coffee. Giorno accepted his greatfully, and took a sip. He always liked his with so much sweetener and sugar, it masked the bitterness of the coffee. They walked into the studio and Giorno stopped.

Like, physically stopped.

He could not walk.

Because Mista was sitting in the floor with Narancia, talking excitedly about something. Without a shirt. Oh my god.

“I’m going to fall over,” Giorno whispered.

Luckily Trish was there to put a supportive hand on his back. That wasn’t going to help if his legs continued to feel like jelly though. Why wasn’t Mista wearing a shirt, and why was he absolutely stunning . Giorno was right about his initial thought that Mista would be on the muscular side. He wasn’t too suffocatingly muscular, either. Giorno had already gotten a sneak-peak last week from the cropped sweater, but now Giorno had a full view. God... he has really nice abs. And pecs, Jesus. If there is a god, please save me. Even his arms- what’s that on his arms?

Giorno finally moved on from oogling at Mista’s... chest... And noticed that his left arm was covered in tattoos. He couldn’t see what any of them were, because Mista was waving his arms around as he spoke. Suddenly, Giorno’s comment about Trish being strange for wanting to touch the tattoos didn’t seem like a good idea. She’s going to pester me about that when I tell her.

Narancia looked over and noticed them, and waved frantically. Mista looked over, and Giorno’s knees felt like they might give out. Mista smiled and waved at them, and Trish waved to the both of them. She started guiding Giorno over to where the two sat, making sure he was still placing one foot in front of the other.

“You ok Gio?”

Holy-

“Aww! How come you don’t have a cute nickname for me?”

“Sorry Narancia, I didn’t know you wanted a nickname. Besides, wouldn’t it be better if Fugo came up with one first?”

“Pfffttt... psshhhh... hu... Yeah...”

Luckily, Giorno had enough time to reorganize his thoughts, and speak actual words, “I’m fine, thank you.”

Mista smiled at him before moving on, “Did you guys see the trailer for the new game coming out?”

“No, indulge us,” Trish answered as she helped Giorno sit down.

“Well, I read an article this morning, and the English Nintendo Direct skipped over a game!”

“Really?!”

“Yeah! I checked it out, and it looks so good. It was shown in the Japanese Direct, so I didn’t understand anything they said.”

Giorno kind of wanted to cut in to say he knew Japanese. To be able to show off like that. But he was honestly still distractedly staring.

Sadly, Trish wasn’t so distracted, “Giorno knows Japanese!”

“Deadass?!”

“Yeah! We can watch it together later, so he can translate for us.”

“Is that ok with you?” Mista asked.

“Oh. Yes, that’s fine.”

Narancia jumped up and down before hugging Giorno, “Wow! You’re so cool!”

“Uh-“

“What’s the game called?” Trish cut in.

“Oh! It’s called ‘ Sakuna: Of Rice and Ruin’. The article said it was kinda like a blend of ‘Harvest Moon’ with RPG stuff.”

“Me and Giorno don’t game often. What’s RPG?”

“You poor things,” Narancia shook his head, “We’ll show you the ropes.”

“Thanks!”

“Sorry to interrupt. But Mista, if you don’t mind my asking, why aren’t you wearing a shirt, but still wearing a hat? That seems very contradictory,” Giorno didn’t mean to still be distracted, but he was just fixated. Hyper-focused. But he made sure he had worded his question in a way that wasn’t obvious about it.

Mista looked down, as if he hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Oh yeah. I’ll go get a shirt.”

As Mista got up, Giorno whispered, “Or you could just lose the hat.”

He thought he’d said that quiet enough, but Trish burst out laughing. Narancia turned to her, “Did I miss something funny?”

Trish couldn’t even speak, but she waved her hand at Narancia to try and say no. She just continued laughing, clutching her stomach. Giorno was beyond embarrassed, and was glaring at Trish. This only made her laugh harder. Mista started walking back over (with a sweatshirt on, to Giorno’s disappointment) when Fugo came out from a back room.

Fugo stared at them for a second, “What... what’d I miss?”

“Nobody knows!” Narancia whined, “Trish just started dying for no reason.”

“Looks like Giorno might know, he looks pissed,” Fugo pointed out, “Or at least, as much as Giorno can look anything. His face is always so blank.”

“I-,” Trish tried to say through heavy breaths, “I just- I didn’t- expect- oh my god!” She started laughing again.

Giorno cleared his face again, then stood up to drop his bag off along one of the walls, then sat to change his shoes.

Trish scrambled up after him, “Wait! I’m-I’m sorry! I swear I’ll stop! I- hoo- I promise. I’m done.”

Giorno just ‘humphed’ and continued to lace up his shoes. Trish sat next to him and worked on her own shoes. They were both stretching on the bar when Bucciarati came out of his office, talking to Abbacchio.

“And- oh! Hey all!”

“Oh. You two are back,” Abbacchio grumbled.

“Be nice. It’s good to see you guys again!”

“It’s good to see you as well. I missed you too, Abbacchio.”

Abbacchio grit his teeth and looked at Giorno like he might smash his skull on the curb outside.

“What were you all laughing about?”

“It was just Trish!” Narancia corrected, “She laughs really loud!”

“Hey! It was just really funny!”

“What?” Bucciarati tried to press.

But Trish shook her head, “I can’t tell you. Bff solidarity.”

“Aw! That’s totally cheating!” Mista complained.

“That’s not how cheating works, idiot!” Fugo said.

“Why don’t we get started for the day,” Bucciarati intercepted.

Mista nodded and headed off to a corner of the room, putting in headphones, Fugo and Narancia walked to a different section, and Abbacchio went over to them, and Bucciarati came over to Trish and Giorno.

“Alright you two. Since I’m working with you both at the same time, let’s try and organize this. Trish, you already have a lot down, so why don’t I do half a lesson with Giorno first, while you practice what you already have, then we can switch and Giorno, you can practice whatever we figure out today, and I can help Trish with the rest of her thing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Trish shrugged. Giorno nodded his agreement.

“Alright, you can set up right over there Trish,” She nodded, grabbed her phone and headed off, “And we’re over here, Giorno.”

For the next hour and a half Giorno worked out his very messy idea. Bucciarati was extremely helpful, and was surprisingly able to decipher and piece together all of Giorno’s ideas, and added some of his own. Giorno was glad to have finally found someone who liked his idea, and was willing to listen to Giorno. After they planned out some of Giorno’s dance, Bucciarati called out to everyone for a 15 minute break. Giorno didn’t really want a break, but he supposed it was probably fine to rest for a bit.

He immediately headed over to Trish, “I wasn’t expecting a break.”

“Me neither. Usually they just want us to pump out work. Bruno is so much more chill.”

“Agreed.”

“Looks like Fugo and Narancia are fighting, wanna go check it out?”

“Let’s.”

Giorno could see Mista already sitting against a wall next to Fugo and Narancia. He was dripping sweat, but still wearing his sweatshirt, and drinking from a water bottle as he watched the other two fight. Giorno sat down next to Mista, and Trish sat next to him.

Mista looked over to them, “Oh! Hey! Usually I watch the show alone, but now we can enjoy it together,” he smiled.

Giorno gave a light smile back, then turned to ‘watch the show’.

“Doesn’t it go like this?”

“No, it’s left foot then right foot.”

“Why would it be that? It feels more comfy right then left.”

“But it looks better when you do left then right. Which is why you’re doing that.”

“Doesn’t my comfort matter?”

“Not right now it doesn’t.”

“Ow! That hurts my feelings!”

“I- So what?”

“What do you mean ‘so what’? No need to be a prick.”

“Yeah, well you don’t need to be so difficult, dipshit.”

“Why you-“

“Shut up,” Abbacchio finally cut in. It seemed he was enjoying the display as well, “You’re doing left then right, Narancia.”

Narancia pouted and Fugo grinned proudly, “Since you seem so happy with the decision, why don’t you switch with Narancia?” Abbacchio finished.

Fugo’s smile dropped and Narancia stuck his tongue out at him, “That’s what I thought. Take your breaks.”

Fugo and Narancia both huffed, crossed their arms, and turned away from each other. Narancia sat next to Mista and Fugo sat next to Trish.

“Does this always happen?” Trish leaned over Giorno to ask Mista.

“Yeah, they get over it fast, don’t worry. So Trish, how was you guys’ week.”

“Oh, all was well. We went out shopping the other day. Giorno’s wearing his new thing right now, what do you think? I picked it out so be nice.”

“I-it looks really good! You pull it off, Gio. And you made a good choice Trish.”

Giorno gave Trish a tired look, but she just smiled victoriously.

“Fugo, come back,” Narancia whined out of nowhere.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

“B-but... I’ll tell them your first name!”

Fugo glared at him, “You wouldn’t.”

Narancia smiled now that he had Fugo’s attention, then turned to Giorno and Trish, “It’s Panna-“

Fugo jumped up, rushed over, and slapped his hands over Narancia’s mouth before he could finish.

“Well now I kinda wanna know,” Trish said.

“No you don’t,” Fugo tried to reason.

Mista smiled deviously, “It’s Pannacotta.”

Fugo groaned and slumped onto the floor, defeated, “How could you.”

Narancia was laughing, “I had to!”

Mista turned to Narancia, “Oo! Narancia! Remember what we were talking about earlier?”

Narancia thought for a moment before he perked up, “Panna!”

Fugo looked up at Narancia, confused, so he clarified, “That’s your cute nickname! Panna. Now what’s mine?”

Fugo went red as Narancia stared at him expectantly, “Oh- uh- well- uhm- h-how about Nara?”

Narancia jumped up and hugged Fugo, “Perfect! That’s my new favorite thing!”

“He decided on Narancia’s nickname rather fast, didn’t he,” Giorno whispered. Mista and Trish snickered.

“Say, since we have Pannacotta Fugo’s full name, how about the rest of you?” Trish smiled. Fugo glared at her for using his first name, but didn’t say anything.

“Narancia Ghirga!” Narancia answered, still hanging around Fugo’s neck.

“Trish Una.”

“Guido Mista,” Mista said with a smile.

“... Giorno Giovanna.”

“Woah! That’s such a cool name!” Narancia exclaimed.

“I suppose so.”

“...Giorno... Giovanna...” Mista was whispering the name under his breath. Giorno was trying to ignore how much he liked the way his name sounded coming from Mista, “...Gio... GioGio!”

Giorno could feel his eyes widen a bit involuntarily, Trish laughed, “That’s so cute! I like it a lot! Do you like it too, Giorno?”

Giorno didn’t have enough time to clear his mind, “I- yes. I do like it,” Stop stuttering.

Mista laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “G-glad you do.”

“Well, if you two are done flirting-“

“Hey! We aren’t! And your one to talk! Narancia is literally sitting in your lap!”

Fugo went red as if he just realized (or more likely, he was ok with it and just was embarrassed to be caught) and pushed Narancia off of him.

“Ow!”

“15 minutes is up!” Bucciarati suddenly called.

Fugo huffed, stood up, paused, then turned around to offer his hand to help Narancia up. Narancia accepted with a smile, and they headed off to where Abbacchio was sitting. Mista stood, gave Giorno a bright smile, then went off on his own, headphones already back in his ears.

“Aww,” Trish was still looking at Narancia and Fugo, “They’re soo cute. They need to get together before I implode.”

Giorno sighed and shook his head. Trish turned to him, “Don’t even. You need to get together soon too, GioGio. ”

Giorno rolled his eyes and got up, “Don’t roll your eyes at me!” Giorno pointedly rolled his eyes again. Trish huffed and walked over to Bucciarati.

Giorno made sure not to be distracted by anything while he was working on what he and Bucciarati went over. This hour and a half did give him a bit of time to think, though. Giorno felt a bit lost. He isn’t used to having such intense emotions. He can’t even really pinpoint what emotion it is. I’ve seen Trish be attracted to people before, so is that this? But Trish always ends up breaking up with whoever, so will this not work? It must just be that you can’t only be attracted to someone visually. I have to be attracted to their personality. Am I attracted to his personality? I think so... I should pay more attention to that, instead of his looks. Even though he has such a great smile. Wait. Distracted. We’re supposed to be dancing.

At the end, Bucciarati spoke up, “Alright! You all did great today. Our next meeting is Wednesday, but feel free to drop by any other afternoon.”

Trish was already heading for the door, so Giorno grabbed his things and went to follow her.

“See you GioGio!”

Giorno turned to see Mista smiling and waving at him, “See you,” Giorno waved back.

Chapter Text

Today was Monday. And Trish was going to convince Giorno to go to the studio today.

“Ok.”

“Wow! That was easier than I expected. I should have expected that, though, GioGio. ”

Giorno huffed, but got up out of his bed to get dressed, “You should wear those,” Trish suggested.

Giorno looked to where she was pointing. She had bought Giorno a magenta crop top, one that was off the shoulder, a pair of high waisted black jeans, and a lace choker. Giorno gave her a look, but put on the clothes anyway.

“And! You should totally put it with these wedge booties.”

Trish was proud of her fashion handiwork. She watched Giorno walk out of the room to look in the mirror.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bit much?” He said from the other room.

“Nope! This is perfect,” He walked back into the room, “His jaw, will drop.”

“I’m not talking about him,” Trish lifted a single brow as he continued, “We’re just going to a dance studio with children. I don’t think I need to be wearing something like this.”

“Oh please. If anything, it will teach children how to dress fashionably.”

“I don’t think children worry about fashion.”

“They should. Now, don’t fight me on this. You’re wearing that.”

“Fine,” Giorno sighed. Trish gave him a bright, taunting smile.

“Should we bring our slippers?” Trish changed the subject.

“Narancia did say something about dancing for the children.”

“I’ll put ours together in one bag. So there’s less to carry.”

Giorno nodded, so Trish shoved their shoes and a pair of socks for each of them into her bag. They made their way out to the studio, and Trish told Giorno about a new fashion blogger she had followed. They skipped coffee today and went inside. Trish regretted not getting coffee. The kids were all standing in some semblance of lines, and they were all talking. Somehow. A few children were just talking to each other, a couple were talking to Fugo about something, a couple more to Narancia, some were showing Bucciarati their dance moves (which he was encouraging no matter how atrocious), and the rest were laughing as Mista told a joke. Trish could practically hear Giorno’s heart flutter at that. He always loved kids, so of course, he would want to be with someone who was good with kids.

Abbacchio noticed them first, and nudged Bucciarati, then pointed to the door.

“Oh! You guys came! Kids, we have two guests!”

Trish double regretted not getting coffee. Every single pair of tiny child eyes was staring at her. Not her idea of paradise. She still smiled and waved at them, and Giorno just waved politely.

One of the boys was seemingly the bravest, and decided to walk up to Giorno, “Are you a boy?” What a question.

“Yes,” Giorno said patiently.

“How come you’re wearing pink?” Another boy asked.

“Because I like pink.”

“I didn’t know boys were allowed to wear pink,” a girl said.

“Of course they are,” Trish said.

“You’re a very pretty boy,” a different girl said while she twiddled her thumbs.

“Thank you,” Giorno gave a soft smile.

“Why don’t we let them in,” Bucciarati said.

One girl came up and grabbed Giorno’s hand to drag him into the room. He just let her pull him wherever, which was next to her little group of friends.

“What’s in your bag?” A boy asked as Trish walked in.

“Our shoes.”

“But you’re already wearing shoes,” the boy pointed out.

Trish laughed, “That’s true. But these are special shoes. We wear them so we can dance.”

“Why do you have special shoes just so you can dance?”

“We do a special kind of dance. So we need special shoes,” Giorno said from where he was.

“Do you dance like Fugo and Narancia?”

“No, we do ballet.”

“Will you show us?”

“Yeah show us!” All of the children agreed in some way. Trish pulled the shoes from her bag, and handed Giorno his. A few kids came over to get a closer look, so Giorno handed one of his shoes to the group as he took off his heels. Trish put their normal shoes in the bag, then finished lacing up her slippers.

“Why are they square at the tip?”

“So we can do this,” Giorno said as he went onto his toes. A couple kids gasped.

“How do you do that?!”

“Yeah! That’s magic!”

“It’s not magic,” Giorno explained, “We just practice a lot.”

“Can I do that?”

“You have to do ballet, and it takes a while before your teacher gives you pointe shoes. It’s an honor to get them,” Trish said.

“What other things can you do?”

Giorno looked up to Trish, and she nodded at him. He went over to an empty space and Trish walked over to where Mista was standing.

“What would you like to see?” Giorno asked.

“I heard there was a thing called a purée! Do that!”

Giorno smiled, “It’s called a pirouette. And I can do that,” Giorno did a quick pirouette.

“Wow! That looks so cool!”

“Is it always just one?”

“I can do more.”

“Do 20!”

“20?” Giorno pretended to think about it, “That’s quite a few. How about just 5?” The kids nodded excitedly, so Giorno did his five turns.

Giorno kept showing the kids different things, and a couple asked Trish if she could do those things too. At one point, some of the boys pulled Fugo over to Giorno and asked him to do the same things. Fugo tried to refuse, but Narancia was egging the whole thing on. Giorno tried his best to help Fugo out, and he did... fine. Something told Trish Fugo didn’t regret it, though. And that something was the huge smile Narancia had.

Two girls had been watching with her and Mista, and one said, “He’s so pretty.”

“Yeah,” Mista sighed.

Trish snorted, and Mista realized what he said, “Wait! No! I mean- well- ugh. Never-mind.”

“Do you think he would marry me?” The other girl asked.

“You should try asking him,” Trish suggested.

“That’s so scary! Will you help me?”

“Yeah, I can help you. We have to be careful, Mista might get jealous,” Trish fake whispered.

“Hey!”

“Why? Are you married to him?”

“I- uh- no...”

“Then I get him first.”

“She’s right. She got first dibs,” Trish nodded.

Trish grabbed the girls hand, and they made their way over to Giorno. The girl was stuttering, so Trish squeezed her hand supportively, and the girl asked her question.

Giorno smiled a bit, “Seems like an intense commitment.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” The girl pouted.

“How about I marry you for just today?”

“Yay! Then, Mista can marry you next.”

Giorno blushed. Blushed. “Mista won’t marry me.”

“But he will! He only can’t marry you because it’s my turn first. She said I got ‘first dibs’.”

The girl dragged Giorno over to her friends to show him off. They were all fawning over him, until Bucciarati decided they should get back on track. They all went back into their messy lines, and the girl kept Giorno with her. He ended up doing some of the dancing with them, and even added a bit of ballet to show off. At the end of class, some of the kids sat against the wall with folders out, and Fugo was helping them with their homework, and Narancia was making faces behind him. Trish had changed back into her normal shoes, and was watching the chaos.

Giorno was sitting on the floor, braiding hair, when a girl brought Mista over to them.

“Braid Mista’s hair too!”

“My hair’s too short, chickadee.”

“Can you braid Giorno’s hair then?”

“I don’t wanna mess it up,” the girls whined.

“Maybe after we train Mista, we can get him to do it next time,” Giorno reasoned.

The girls all agreed and forced Mista to sit down. One tried to show Mista what to do, and another sat in front of him to be his test subject.

One girl decided to start conversation, “So Mista, when will you marry Giorno?”

Giorno kept on his usual blank face, but Trish could see his mouth twitch up for a split second.

“W-well adults can’t just marry each other all Willy-nilly.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause. It’s just not how it is.”

The girls moved on to a new topic, and eventually it was time for them all to leave. Scarily enough, the one girl ran out saying, “Mommy! I got married today!”. Trish didn’t get to hear the response, though.

“Thanks for coming in today,” Bucciarati sighed once all the kids left.

“Thanks for letting us come,” Trish smiled.

“We’ll see you on Wednesday?”

“Yup. We should head out now. Gio, get your shoes,” Giorno nodded tiredly and walked over to their bag.

“Wow, he looks tired,” Narancia pointed out.

“He loves kids, but he’s definitely not used to them.”

“Understandable,” Fugo mumbled.

Giorno collapsed into bed when they got home, but before he could pass out, Trish asked, “So, when’s the wedding GioGio?” He just huffed out a half laugh before fading to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was Wednesday, and Giorno and Trish had just left the studio. Narancia, Mista, and Fugo were relaxing in Golden Wind , waiting for Bucciarati to finish up something important he said he need to do.

Narancia was trying out a new cupcake, chocolate with orange icing, that the staff had made for him, since they were all regulars. He was super excited to be able to try it out, and dug in as soon as the waitress placed it in front of him.

Fugo smacked his hand, “You didn’t even say thank you!” Fugo turned to the lady, “Thank you,” she nodded, smiled, and headed off.

“Sorry! I was excited,” Narancia tried to defend.

“That doesn’t mean you should forget basic human niceties.”

“Says you! The other day you almost got into a scrap because some rando pronounced ‘basil’ wrong.”

“That man butchered that word beyond repair. It was disgusting.”

“Only you would think it’s disgusting when someone pronounces a word wrong,” Mista pointed out.

“That can’t be true. I’m sure others understand, just not you two idiots.”

“Hey! I’m not an idiot! How could you say that about me,” Narancia pouted.

Fugo faltered a bit, “I-I’m only joking. You aren’t that stupid.”

Narancia immediately brightened again, “I totally am! Just wanted to hear you say that!” He turned his attention back to his unfinished cupcake. Fugo scowled, but didn’t continue that conversation.

Instead, Fugo said, “So Mista, how’s your relationship with Giorno going?”

“Wh-what?! There is no relationship.”

“How long are you going to deny this?” Fugo sat up a bit, meaning he was gonna start lecturing or something, “I know it’s hard to come out for the first time, but we accept you. And we’ll help you out, too. You just have to-“

“Yeah yeah. I’m not listening to it. You can’t be telling me all that crap. I mean, what are you?”

Fugo paused for a second, “Pan.”

“You’re not a pan...” Narancia was kinda confused. What did any of this have to do with pans?

“Not like that idiot!” Fugo yelled at him, “Pansexual. It means I can like someone, regardless of their sexuality and gender orientation.”

“Oooooohhhhhh! I get it!” Fugo just nodded exasperated.

“So, go ahead Mista,” Fugo tried to prod.

“W-wait! I’m not ready! Narancia, you go!”

“Demisexual! Fugo helped me figure it out. It means I don’t wanna frick just anyone, I gotta love them ‘n’ all first.”

“That’s just a rather simplified version. Now go Mista. Getting it out into the open will help you feel better.”

Mista messed with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, “I-I guess... bisexual...”

“And you’re sure? We aren’t trying to force this onto you. If you really don’t like Giorno like that, then you don’t.”

“No... no, I definitely like him... like that .”

Fugo smirked, “Well then. Where should we start, Nara?”

Narancia beamed and clapped, “This is so exciting! We’ve gotta start getting them alone together often. Whaddya think?”

“No way!” Mista gaped, “That’s terrifying!”

“Yeah, that’s going to have to start happening. Maybe we can invite them out shopping, then drag Trish away?”

“That’s a good idea! Let’s wait for the perfect opportunity. Like, the weekend or something!”

“Do I get a say in this?!” Mista tried.

“No,” Narancia and Fugo answered at the same time. Fugo continued, “We still have practice this Saturday though...”

“Oh yeah... well, we can just shop on Sunday, right? We can tell Bucci, and maybe he’ll let us go for the day! We’re always there helping with the classes, I’m sure he’ll let us have a day off!”

“Day off?”

Bucciarati and Abbacchio had just walked over their table. And Bucciarati was inquiring as to what they were talking about.

“Yeah! We’ll tell you the details at home!” Narancia reached over and put his hand on Fugo’s arm, “We can head out now, though!”

He could feel Fugo stiffen a bit under his touch. He looked over to him, but Fugo was completely spaced out. Narancia wrote it off, Fugo spaced off all the time. It was still a bit weird when Fugo autopiloted all the way to his room.

He only got worried when he heard two loud bangs from Fugo’s room.

Chapter Text

He should have known.

If he had been more careful. If he hadn’t been so stupid . He wouldn’t have messed up so bad.

His parents always showed off his smarts. He was simply a trophy to be displayed. And he accepted this. He never looked for praise. Because he would never get it. Yet, he still continued to push himself with the littlest hope of the acceptance he needed. No matter how far he pushed, his parents expected it to be farther. So he kept chasing. He would study outside of school, he would waste away his time, some days went without food. Sometimes he would study with teachers in their offices, sometimes he went to tudors. He always worked so hard. Only for the hard to become ‘easy’. And so his parents had to move the bar. He thought he was smart, his parents wouldn’t show him off if he wasn’t, and yet he’d been an idiot.

It was just another normal day. That’s something that still terrifies him. It was surrounded by normalcy, so was he supposed to feel normal?

He wanted to know more about math. It was so interesting, and fun to watch the numbers basically solve themselves. So he asked the Professor if he could help.

“Of course I can help! Why don’t you come over around 7?”

He should have known.

“Yes, 7 is good.”

“Great! See you then.”

Why was his day so normal? After school he just went home. He did all his homework. He ate dinner alone. And then he read until it was time to leave. He was grabbing his things to leave, and heading out the door. He hadn’t seen his parents yet today, so he hadn’t told them he’d be heading out.

He should have known.

He had called the family driver, “Louis, can you get me here?” He handed him the paper with the address.

“‘Course I can. A friends place?”

“Uh, yeah,” why didn’t he tell the truth? Stupid.

They pulled up to the house. It was small, and the curtains were all drawn, “When should I pick you up?”

“Um. I’m not sure. I’ll message you.”

“Alright. See you then.”

He hopped out of the car and walked up to the door. Why did his skin feel wrong on him? Like it was tingling to come off? Why did it feel like his hands weren’t his as he knocked on the door? Why did he want to run as soon as the door opened?

Why didn’t he run?

“Glad to see you came!”

He stepped inside. Looking around, he could see a quaint setup. A small, clean kitchen. A living room with only one couch, which made sense, because his teacher lived alone. There were other rooms down the hall, presumably a bedroom and bathroom, maybe even a guest room.

“Have a seat! Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like anything? Something to drink? To eat?”

“Just water is fine, thank you.”

He should have known.

His teacher came back with water, and sat next to him, “How do you want to start?”

“Right! I was thinking we should start here.”

“Good idea.”

He wasn’t used to such direct attention. And getting a praise for such a simple thing? He was ecstatic. He wanted more of that. So he continued on. Even when the praises were starting to be worded a bit different. They went from, ‘Good idea’, ‘Good job’, to ‘Amazing!’, ‘You’re doing so well’, to ‘So smart!’, ‘Perfect. Absolutely perfect.’. It was such a gradual change.

He should have known.

He was feeling a little lightheaded. What time was it? How long had he been here for? Was he always sitting so close?

“How about we take a break?” The teacher put his hand on his arm.

“Y-yyyyes,” his word slurred. Why? What was happening to the room? It looked like it was disappearing. There was only the couch. And the man next to him. The hand slid down his arm to his hand. Everything was blurry.

“Whatssss ‘appening?”

“Don’t worry. It’s ok.”

Well, if the adult said it was ok, he should listen. Especially since this teacher was so nice. The hand slid from his own to his lap.

“I’m ok?”

“Yes, you’re perfect.”

“Ok.”

Ok. He shouldn’t have said that. He should have known. He needed to lay down. He lay on his back, the white of the ceiling blending around. A face came into his vision. It was twisting around with the ceiling. It looked terrifying. But he couldn’t move away from it. He felt the hand on his stomach. He wanted to move.

“I... don’ wannaaa...”

“It’s ok. Just lie still.”

“Ok.”

It wasn’t ok. But that was the only answer he could give. It was the easiest thing to say.

That was the worst night of his life. Because the room stopped getting blurry. And he knew what was happening. And he still couldn’t move to stop it. It was all his fault. He should have done something.

He was embarrassed. He was ashamed. And he was angry.

Fugo sat in his room alone. He had punched two more holes in his wall. Bucciarati would make him fill those later.

Fugo jumped at the knock at his door.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open. Light from the hallway made Fugo squint his eyes. The door closed again, so he had to wait for his eyes to readjust.

“Hey,” the figure said. Oh. It’s just Narancia.

“What?”

“Well... I- I wanted to see how you were...”

“Fine.”

“I don’t know if I should believe you,” Narancia said as he crossed his arms, “There’s two new holes.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Stop lying, will ya?”

“Stop bothering me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!” Fugo yelled.

Narancia didn’t say anything else. He just came and sat on the bed next to Fugo, arms still crossed. Fugo shifted away from where Narancia sat.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting.”

“Sit somewhere else.”

“Hm. No. I think I’ll sit here.”

Fugo huffed, but didn’t say anything else. The silence made him uncomfortable. But he didn’t know what to say, plus he was being stubborn, and speaking was like admitting defeat.

Narancia spoke first, “Look it’s a face!”

Fugo looked over to where he was pointing. The two holes he punched were spaced apart, with a poster in between them. Fugo huffed out a small laugh.

Narancia gave him a bright smile, “A laugh! I’m so good at this!”

Fugo smiled and shook his head. He leaned back against his wall. Narancia leaned back next to him.

“I was just thinking,” Fugo finally decided to say.

“If it’s something philomisophical or whatever, I don’t think I can help you.”

Fugo chuckled, “No. Nothing like that.”

“Well then maybe I can help!”

Fugo smiled at him sadly, “I’m afraid you can’t help what’s already happened.”

“No... but... I can help what’s left behind,” Narancia smiled.

Fugo’s eyes widened. He couldn’t think of what to say. Narancia continued instead.

“And hopefully... what’s left behind can learn to move ahead.”

Fugo didn’t realize he was crying until he sniffled. He figured he could let himself cry instead of punch this time. He continued to cry silently as he leaned over onto Narancia’s shoulder. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.

After a while Fugo could finally speak, “When- *sniff*- when did you get so smart.”

Narancia laughed, “I don’t think I did.”

“I think you did,” Fugo whispered.

They both sat in silence. Narancia still holding Fugo, even long after he had stopped crying.

Thank you.

Chapter Text

Fugo and Narancia were acting suspiciously close this morning. Last night, Narancia had gone to check on Fugo after they all heard two bangs coming from his room. Narancia had come down once to grab two glasses of water, and Mista hadn’t seen him till just this morning. Did they spend the night together? Maybe. Mista doesn’t know. He should ask Narancia if they’re finally together.

It was hard to find a moment where Narancia was alone, though. Narancia had, surprisingly, come down before Fugo, and was making Fugo’s coffee. When Fugo did come down, Narancia just sat peacefully next to him. He didn’t even try to bother him. After Fugo was awake enough, then Narancia started asking questions. But some of them were actual questions, like, “Did you sleep well?” and, “Do you want more water? Here, it’s good for you.”

Like, when did Narancia become Fugo’s caretaker? I always thought it would be the other way around.

He finally had a chance to speak to Narancia when Fugo left to change, “Yo. Narancia. I have an important question.”

“Sup?”

“Are you guys together? Or...”

Narancia sighed, “Not yet. I don’t wanna get rejected or something, so I’m waiting to make sure. Why?”

“You guys got crazy close all of the sudden. And you’re totally mommying him.”

“Do you think I should lay off? Is he gonna get overwhelmed? Does he not want that? Is that, like, gonna go against all my advances or whatever? Like will it confuse him? And he’ll think I don’t like him?”

“Woah, calm down for a sec there. I was just wondering man, no need to worry. He looked a little less hostile this morning, so I don’t think he doesn’t want it. But I’m not him, so if he starts acting all uncomfortable, then you should chill. But I think you’re good for now.”

Narancia let out a breath, “Ok. I just don’t wanna give him the wrong idea, y’know?”

“Give who the wrong idea?” Fugo asked as he stepped into the room.

“No one!” Narancia yelled.

Fugo raised his eyebrows, “O-k. So anyway, Bucciarati said he’s got something to do, and he’ll text us later. So we can head out somewhere for the morning.”

“We should see a movie!” Narancia suggested.

“This early? What’s on?”

“I don’t know, we can find out when we get there.”

“Or you could check the app on your phone. We put it there for a reason, ‘cause you keep wanting surprise movies.”

“I’m not paying,” Fugo crossed his arms.

“Then stop getting there last,” Narancia taunted.

“It’s not my fault you guys are fuckin’ insanely fast!”

“Bro. Just get good,” Mista mocked.

“Wha-“

“I picked a movie!” Narancia interrupted.

“What movie?” Mista tried to look over his shoulder at the phone.

Narancia pulled the phone against his chest, “No peaking! It’s a secret.”

“Fine. Let’s head out then,” Fugo huffed.

Narancia had decided on Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. Mista will not admit that he cried at the end. Because he didn’t. It was just... it was emotional, ok? The way she stood with the two suns and... whatever. Mista didn’t cry.

As Fugo was blabbering about how Rae and Ben shouldn’t have kissed because... I don’t know, it was cheap or something (Narancia disagreed), Mista checked his phone.

~~~{Passione}~~~

Mom added GioGio and A Girl to the group chat

Mom: I’m surprised Mista didn’t add you both first, and then make another for just you guys.

Guns&Ships: I forgot :(

WineDad: take them back out

Mom: No.

A Girl: omg hi guys

Nara: HIIIIIIIIIII TRISH

A Girl: HIIIIIIIIII NARANCIA

Guns&Ships: I feel very left out

A Girl: Hi Fugo!

Panna: hi

Guns&Ships: D:

Guns&Ships: and I was gonna add you to the other chat -_-

A Girl: well I mean. I can get Narancia to do it

Nara: yeah I’ll do it

Guns&Ships: ‘twas a tale of betrayal

Mom: Anyway!

Mom: I was going to say, we won’t be meeting on Saturday. I have a meeting, so you guys will be completely off that day.

Mom: I still have a class Sunday afternoon, so you all can still come in then.

Nara: we have off all weekend?

WineDad: can you read?

Nara: sometimes :D

Guns&Ships: thanks for the day off!

Guns&Ships: what should we do

Nara: wait

~~~~~~

“What?” Mista looked up from his phone at Narancia.

“Let me make one for just us kids so Abbacchio doesn’t yell at us for talking too much!”

“Oh yeah. Good idea!”

~~~{Le Kids}~~~

Nara added you, Panna, GioGio, and A Girl to Le Kids

Nara: don’t want abba to get all pissy

Panna: I can already tell that this is going to be a mess

Guns&Ships: ouchie

A Girl: first. I have to ask

A Girl: Mista, is your name seriously a Hamilton reference?

Guns&Ships: hell yeah ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Guns&Ships: you like Hammy?

A Girl: HAMMY

A Girl: THATS WHAT IM CALLING IT NOW

A Girl: DUDE

A Girl: THE HAPPINESS THAT I FELT FROM THAT

A Girl: anyway, yeah me and Gio like it

Nara: speaking of

Nara: where is Giorno?

A Girl: my mans still asleep

A Girl: he was up late

Panna: it’s already almost 11 how can someone sleep for that long

A Girl: when one stays up till 4 it’s quite easy

Guns&Ships: he’s grounded for staying up so late

A Girl: LOL WHAT

A Girl: how’re you just gonna go and ground an adult like that

Panna: how do you even know he was up that late

A Girl: on ig. It said last active 6 hours ago

Nara: Damn. A detective

A Girl: he’ll be up soon tho

A Girl: and then he’ll wake up to being grounded

Guns&Ships: it had to be said

Panna: we’re here for a reason

Nara: oh yeah!

Nara: what should we do for the weekend

Nara: I vote weekend sleepover

A Girl: a whole sleepover ;-;

Nara: yeah!

Nara: we hang out all day Saturday

Nara: then we have an epic sleepover

Nara: then we hang out Sunday morning

Nara: maybe you can stay for the kids in the afternoon

Guns&Ships: dude. When did you have the time to plan this out

Nara: just now! While we were walking home

A Girl: wow. Texting and walking? You’re a danger to society

Nara: yeah I might step on a crack and break my mothers back (¬_¬)

Guns&Ships: do you think that means like a crack in cement or the drug

A Girl: I don’t think that matters here

A Girl: in NYC it’s basically equal

A Girl: so pick one I guess

GioGio: I’m quite sure it’s cement

Nara: GIORNO!!!

GioGio: Hello Narancia

A Girl: did you read everything already?

GioGio: I skimmed

GioGio: it has come to my attention that I have been wrongfully grounded

Guns&Ships: nah dude. You deserve it. Get better sleep

GioGio: maybe

Nara: how do you ground someone?

Nara: like what are you taking away from him

Guns&Ships: idk

Guns&Ships: I’ll... limit phone use to 3 hours a day

GioGio: how are you going to keep track of that

Guns&Ships: Trish

A Girl: >:)

GioGio: I don’t agree with these terms

Guns&Ships: you can’t haggle you’re way out

GioGio: how about 5 hours

Guns&Ships: nah

Guns&Ships: it’s too late for you

GioGio: 4 hours

Guns&Ships: definitely not

Guns&Ships: that’s the cursed number

Guns&Ships: major unlucky vibes

GioGio: 3 and a half?

Guns&Ships: maybe if you get sleep tonight

Nara: this is brutal man

Panna: kinda hilarious though

A Girl: yeah I’m having fun

GioGio: good to know you’re enjoying yourselves

A Girl: love you （＾ ν ＾）

Panna: you all keep getting off topic

Panna: the weekend

Nara: my idea is the only idea so it’s the right idea

Guns&Ships: that is a terrible thing to live by

Guns&Ships: but yeah Narancia’s idea is totally great

A Girl: me and Gio are for it

Panna: are we sleeping at the house? Or do you wanna stay at a hotel or something

Nara: do we have an extra room?

Guns&Ships: nah

Guns&Ships: I can sleep on the couch

GioGio: we can still just get a hotel

Nara: our house is epic tho (._.)

Guns&Ships: I don’t mind the couch

A Girl: Mista can suffer if it means an epic house

Guns&Ships: OK WOW

Guns&Ships: I take it back

A Girl: NO WAIT

A Girl: it’s too late you can’t

A Girl: so anyway when and where will we meet up Saturday

Nara: we can meet up at golden wind at like 10 in the morning

A Girl: sounds like a plan

Nara: Giorno! You should bring some snacks

GioGio: you don’t already have snacks?

Panna: SOMEONE keeps eating them all

Nara: SOMEONE keeps leaving them in my reach

Guns&Ships: so anyway bring food

Guns&Ships: supplies are low

Guns&Ships: on the last boat tour I was on, I had s n a c k s -The old lady from the thirteenth year

A Girl: we can head to the store today

A Girl: speaking of which

A Girl: me and Gio should get ready for the day

Nara: WAIT

Nara: there’s one more thing...

Panna: seriously?

Panna: are we really starting this again

A Girl: starting what

Guns&Ships: the meme pile

Nara: the meme pile!

Nara: I love the meme pile

Nara: I’ll start

Nara: [meme]

Nara: just for you Panna

Panna: wow. Thank you.

Guns&Ships: I’ll put mine

Guns&Ships: [meme] 

Nara: hehe

Nara: someone else!

Panna: [meme] 

A Girl: srsly why tho??

Nara: I don’t see the appeal

Guns&Ships: simple. If you’re a guy that plays guitar, you get +10 hot points

Guns&Ships: a girl that plays gets +20

Nara: that’s so dumb

Nara: thank you Panna

Nara: NEXT

A Girl: [meme] 

A Girl: I’m sorry. It was on such short notice

Nara: Jeez Trish. Next time you better have some fresh memes

Nara: Giorno?

GioGio: [meme] 

Guns&Ships: WTF

Nara: OMG

Panna: I was not expecting that

A Girl: Gio... wtf is that. Where did it come from. Why

A Girl: LITERALLY why

GioGio: he is my most prized meme

GioGio: and I can answer none of your questions Trish

Guns&Ships: ...

Guns&Ships: I’m lowkey scared for my safety

Nara: from Giorno or the toothpaste man?

Guns&Ships: both?

Nara: they are one in the s a m e

Nara changed GioGio’s username to ToothpasteMan

A Girl: yeah...

A Girl: get out of our apartment Gio

ToothpasteMan: ok (._.)

ToothpasteMan: but... I was just about to head off for some shopping. And it would be a shame if I found a cute shirt and only got one for myself

A Girl: ...

A Girl: god damnit

A Girl: alright. We really will head out now

ToothpasteMan: :)

Nara: we’ll see you later!!!!!!!!

Panna: Nara calm down

Guns&Ships: bye guys

A Girl: see ya

~~~~~~

“You’re still smiling like an idiot,” Fugo said after a bit.

“What?”

“The conversation already ended and you’re still smiling,” Narancia clarified, “you’ve got an intense crush my dude.”

“Do I really look that stupid?”

“If Giorno saw, he would agree,” Fugo nodded.

Mista mumbled to himself, but ignored them. They were already relaxing at home by now, so there was really nothing to do.

Bucciarati and Abbacchio came home later, and Mista went to bed. Or he tried to. He was super excited for the weekend, and this night was going way too slow.

Chapter Text

“Giorno! Help me!” Trish cried.

“With what?”

“I don’t know what clothes to bring!”

Giorno stared at her for a second, “... We’re just hanging out.”

“Well yeah. But what if we go to, like, the mall or something?”

“I don’t understand how this would affect your clothing choice.”

“‘Cause that’s a public place. I’m not about to go there without looking absolutely fabulous.”

Giorno blinked at her. He sighed and went over to the pile of clothes she had out. He sifted through it before picking his favorite dress of hers. It was a short dress that had a really nice twirl, it had an open back, and it was a light teal that went well with her hair.

“Perfect! I know exactly which shoes would go with this,” Trish set off, grabbing things for the night and the next morning along the way.

Giorno turned back to his own little bag. He had already put a large shirt and his softest pants (since he normally despised wearing pants to bed) in there for pajamas, and had already changed into his clothes for today. He had decided on a simple outfit, a big white shirt, tucked into light blue skinny jeans, and a pair of knee high black boots, with no heel. Right now, he was trying to decide whether he should pack his bright pink, or dark blue blouse.

Trish looked over his shoulder, “Hm... which pants?”

Giorno held up his favorite black bell-bottoms. Trish looked between it and his shirts, “I would say white... but you’re wearing white today... dark blue.”

Giorno nodded, and folded his things before putting them in his bag. He went to the bathroom to grab a couple of his smaller hair products, but enough to make sure he could still do his preferred style.

“Grab my deodorant while you’re in there?”

“Yeah.”

“You excited?” Trish asked when he came back into the room.

“Maybe.”

“Oh c’mon! It’s like we’re back in middle school or something! I haven’t had a sleepover in years.”

“... I’ve never had a sleepover.”

Trish turned to him, “Seriously?!”

Giorno nodded, and Trish continued, “How exciting! You should have told me yesterday so we could’ve gotten more sleepover things!”

“What else could we have gotten? All Narancia asked for was snacks.”

“Sure. But we could’ve gotten other stuff! Like face masks, or nail polish, or even a game.”

“You realize we’re hanging out with men. And you’re suggesting painting nails?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back I have to go to the corner store real quick.”

“Really? You don’t have-“ she was already out the door, “-to.”

Giorno sighed and sat on his bed. He checked the time, 9. She better not take too long. The truth was, Giorno was honestly kind of excited. He had never been allowed to have or go to a sleepover, so now it felt like he was finally experiencing this thing that everyone else already knew. It made him feel a bit more normal. Although, this might be a tad different, considering they’re all adults. But it’s the thought that counts. This would also be the first time he would be able to see Mista outside of the studio. Technically, this is also the first crush that he’s actively trying to pursue. Many firsts lately, which doesn’t seem healthy for Giorno’s well-being.

“I’m back!” Trish sung as she walked into their apartment.

“What did you get?”

“It’s a surprise! You’re not allowed to know.”

“That... looks like a rather full bag.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trish smiled at him as she shoved her new items into her bag, “Are we ready then? It’s 9:30.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

They got to the cafe earlier then they thought, so they sat in the usual booth and grabbed some coffee for the morning.

Suddenly someone was next to him, “Can I have some?!”

He turned to see Narancia, staring at his cup. He just nodded and slid it over to him. Narancia took a sip, and then looked at the drink questioningly.

“Wait, is this coffee?”

“Yes.”

Narancia looked up at him, “I can’t even taste it! What the hell?! That’s so much sugar, how are you not dead?!”

“Let me try,” Fugo said as he slid into the seat next to Narancia. Narancia passed the cup over to him.

“Tell me how much you don’t taste any coffee.”

“Woah! Ok. That is, like, 10% coffee, 90% sugar and sweetener. Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m quite alright.”

“Oh! My turn!” Mista said as he slid into the last open space next to Fugo. Fugo passed the drink over, and Mista took a gulp, “... it’s like... if you had taffy, but with a little coffee flavor in it. That’s really weird, how much sugar is in this?”

“Enough to make him not be able to eat sweets. Ever,” Trish answered, “which is bad for his causes, considering he has such an intense sweet tooth.”

“I can’t eat too many sweets anyway, sugar isn’t the best for keeping a fit body.”

“That’s all out the window today!” Trish exclaimed, “we got tons of good food!”

Narancia clapped, “This is so fun! It’s like I’m a kid again!”

“You act like a kid anyway,” Fugo pointed out.

“That’s what I told Gio this morning! I haven’t had a sleepover in too long,” Trish said, smiling at Narancia.

“Me neither!” Mista agreed, “Normalize adults having sleepovers.”

“For real though,” Trish nodded.

“What are we doing for the morning?” Fugo asked.

Narancia wrapped an arm around Giorno and Fugo’s shoulders, “We’ve gotta go to the mall or something!”

“I knew this dress was a good idea,” Trish said triumphantly.

“I picked it,” Giorno rebutted, “you had no idea what to wear.”

“That was all an act. I knew the whole time. Now, let’s head out!”

They all headed off in their little group. Trish had pulled Giorno into the front, saying something about how it was good he was wearing skinny jeans today. So he couldn’t just... stare at Mista. Because then it’d be completely noticeable. But Trish assured that it’s better if Mista could stare at him, that he’s supposed to be playing hard to get, and act ‘desirable’.

They took a bus to the mall, and Mista sat next to Giorno, “How’s it goin’?”

“Good, thank you. And how are you?”

“Oh, y’know. The usual. So! I need you and Trish’s help.”

“With what?”

“Well, we need to get Fugo to ask Narancia on a date.”

“Should we not let them go at their own pace?”

“I’ve been doing that for too long. I just need this kind of completion in my life.”

“I suppose we can help,” Giorno waved Trish over.

“What’s up?”

“I need you and GioGio to help me out. We’ve gotta get Fugo and Narancia together.”

“Oh~ definitely. Where should we start?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only ever been out with chicks. Is going out with a dude much different?”

“Well, I’ve only ever been out with strait men, so I think it’s a bit different. Giorno- oh wait, I don’t think you’ve ever been on a date.” No need to put me on the spot like that.

“No, but regardless, Fugo and Narancia have a certain dynamic. It would be better to use that to our advantage rather than use stereotypical methods.”

“...Why are you so smart.”

“I’m pretty sure that was just common sense, no?”

“Giorno’s right. Maybe you’re just stupid Mista.”

“Ouch! Fuck you too!”

A mother on the bus started yelling at Mista, and he kept apologizing profusely. Giorno giggled a bit. But now he finally had a valid reason to be staring at Mista. He was wearing a loose red sweatshirt, along with ripped black jeans, and a pair of white sneakers. He still had on the same purple beanie, which made Giorno think it must be the only one he has. It was their stop, and Mista ran off the bus to get away from the lady still scolding him.

“Now that we’re here,” Narancia started, “I heard there was a sale at Urban Outfitters.”

“OH MY GOD!” Trish screamed before she grabbed Giorno’s arm and sprinted to the store. It’s a good thing I didn’t wear heels today.

Narancia had trailed behind them, but Fugo and Mista were nowhere to be seen. Trish was already pulling things off of their hooks, holding them up to Giorno, then up to herself. She put most of the things back, but what she kept, she threw into Giorno and Narancia’s arms.

“Are you really already buying all this stuff,” Narancia asked from behind his pile.

“No. I’m just grabbing these things to try on, then I’ll pick from this to see what to buy. Giorno, I’ve been grabbing stuff for you too.”

“Trish, I already have plenty of clothes.”

“No no no. We have to prepare your wardrobe for the winter season. You can keep some of your other clothes for next summer if you want, but I would be careful, in case it goes out of style.”

“You know I’m not as interested in keeping up.”

“How are you supposed to pay for all these fashion changes?” Narancia inquired.

Trish turned and smiled devilishly, “Dads. Credit card.”

Giorno almost dropped everything he was holding, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she wiggled the little piece of plastic in front of his face.

“I’m not associated with any of this, if Doppio asks. I don’t want Diavolo to murder me.”

“Uhm! If- if there’s a chance of me being murdered, I wasn’t here either!” Narancia said.

Trish cackled as she continued to add clothes to her piles. Eventually, they headed to the back, and him and Narancia rated each pair of clothes she had. Narancia had texted the other two to tell them where they were, so they were presumably on their way. After Trish had significantly cut down on her piles, because some of the clothes had a bad cut, or just didn’t fit right, she sent Giorno in to change into some of the clothes she grabbed for him. There was still a dress inside, so he stuck it back outside. Only for Trish to push it back.

“Do you not want the dress?”

“It’s not for me.”

“...” Giorno stared at Trish, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah. It would look so good on you!”

“I wear some feminine things Trish, but a dress seems a bit much.”

“C’mon! At least try it! Clothes are genderless.”

Giorno furrowed his brow, “Just this once.”

He slipped on the dress once he was alone again. It was a tight fit at the bodice, and was loose and short, only reaching his knees, at the skirt. It was a black velvet fabric, with a bundle of embroidered flowers at the one side of the waist. The neckline came all the way up to his collarbone, and covered his back and shoulders, and it was sleeveless. The boots he was wearing now didn’t go with it at all, so he pulled them off and just left his white socks on. He walked out of the changing room looking down, fixing the hem of his skirt.

He heard someone breathe in sharply, and his head snapped up. She did this on purpose. Narancia had given his seat up for Fugo, and was instead leaning on the back of it. Trish was sitting right next to Mista, who was staring pointedly at his phone. Giorno glared at her, but she just smiled brighter.

“You look so good in that Gio! I knew you would.”

“Yeah!” Narancia agreed, “You are probably the only guy I know that could pull off that dress.”

Fugo looked at Narancia weird, before turning back to look at Giorno, “You do look nice, but why are you wearing a dress?”

“Trish decided it would be a good idea,” Giorno turned to Trish, “I thought we were looking for winter clothes Trish. ”

“Woah calm down Jamal. No need to pull out the 9. I just really liked it!”

“If you liked it, you could’ve gotten it for yourself.”

“But don’t you think I have enough clothes?” She smiled innocently.

“I think I might tackle you to the ground right now.”

“How could you say that!” Trish gasped, “what did I do?”

“You know what you did. I’m changing out of this.”

Giorno glanced once at Mista, who was staring at his phone even more intently. He turned on his heel and went back into the changing room. He was beyond irritated at Trish for trying to pull that. Oh god. He saw me in a dress. Trish is dead.

He walked back out wearing his original outfit, with the dress slung over his arm, “We’re putting this back.”

“What?! You actually looked cute though! I’m sorry! Please keep it!”

Narancia came up beside her, “yeah keep it! You can save it for next spring!”

Giorno sighed, “Fine. But you’re on strike two Trish.”

“Two?! When was the first one?”

“Honestly, you’re on strike six, but I’m being lenient.”

“Damn ok.”

“It’s already 11:30,” Fugo called, “you guys wanna grab a quick something, then head to an arcade?”

“That’s a really good idea Panna! Let’s go!” Narancia skipped off.

Trish whispered something to Mista, he nodded and showed her his phone, then she smiled and said something else. How suspicious of you to do Trish. During the entirety of lunch, Giorno talked to Fugo about the science behind glow in the dark plants, since he had just read an article this morning. He snuck a few glances over, and whenever he did, he could see Trish and Mista scrutinizing his phone. Narancia was just trying to add in to Giorno and Fugo’s conversation, he must have felt a bit left out, so Giorno tried to include him.

Even as they were walking to the arcade, Mista was fixated on his phone. It was starting to get on Giorno’s nerves, not that Giorno had the right to feel that way. But it was still annoying.

Giorno walked up behind Mista and peered over his shoulder, “What are you looking at? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Mista jumped, almost dropped his phone, then shoved it into his pocket, “Nothing!”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t nothing.

Mista was freaking out.

Narancia had texted him and Fugo to tell them where they were. When he got there, he saw two piles of clothes, one significantly bigger than the other, and Trish and Narancia staring at what he assumed was a changing room. Narancia got up out of his seat, and gave it to Fugo. Mista just sat next to Trish.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“Gio is trying on some stuff I picked out for him. By the way, I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to sneak some pictures of him in this next outfit. Then we’ll pick out the best and you can send them to me.”

“Jeez ok. What’s he wearing, a clown suit?”

It was not a clown suit. It was a fucking dress. Mista probably took more pictures than he needed to.

After Giorno spun around (the dress had a really nice twirl too, and Mista got a few pictures of that) and walked back into the changing room, Mista let out a breath. Trish was laughing, and leaned over to look at his phone.

“Did you get enough?”

Mista nodded, and Trish smiled, “We’ll go through them over lunch.”

As promised, Trish and Mista flipped through his phone. She got rid of all the blurry ones, and specifically said that the one where Giorno was glaring at her was her favorite. He was still staring at his phone when he heard a voice behind him.

“What are you looking at? If you don’t mind my asking.” Shit!

“Nothing!” Mista said, probably a little too loud.

Giorno lifted a brow, but didn’t question him further. Thank. God.

The arcade proved to be a good distraction as well. While they had a bunch of good games at home, which they’re probably gonna play later, the arcade is just a different experience. Mista and Narancia immediately went to their favorite game here, Joust.

“Do we still have the high score?” Mista asked nervously.

“Um... Damn! Someone’s above us!”

“Who?!”

“... M E L... who’s that? Do we know ‘em?”

“Sounds to me like computer nerd Melone beat our fucking score!”

“Him?! We’ve gotta beat him! Hey Panna!”

“What’s up?” Fugo asked as he walked over to them.

“How many more points do we need than him to get first?”

“What’s this? Joust? MEL, over here, got 126,589. You really only need one more point than him, so 126,590. There’s no fours in it, Mista.”

“We’ve gotta go for that then.”

“C’mon! We can go higher! What’s a little four gonna do?”

“I don’t know, murder me?!”

Narancia rolled his eyes, “Thanks Panna!” Fugo nodded and headed off.

Mista’s entire focus was on the game, and he and Narancia kept playing over and over until they beat the score. It took forever, but after a particularly promising round, they ended up with 126,611.

“Yes!!” Narancia cheered as Mista put in their name.

“Dude. I’m so happy right now.”

“Yeah! I’m gonna go tell Panna!” Narancia ran off.

Mista decided he would go see what Giorno and Trish were up to. He saw a glimpse of pink hair, and headed over to a table they must be sitting at. When he could see them both clearly, he also saw the weirdest thing.

“Um. Hey, GioGio? What’s that?”

“This, Mista, is my army.”

Giorno had about 30 ducks sitting in front, next to, and on him. They came from a crane machine in the back, where all the cranes were.

Trish was staring too, and said, “How did you get so many in such a short period of time?”

“Well, I happened to be very lucky. Every single time. Most of the time, I only got one duck. But a few times, I got two, and even three, ducks. I never missed.”

“... How seriously are we taking this?” Trish asked.

“Extremely.”

“What will you do with your recrutement, GioGio?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Are you gonna name them?”

“I don’t think that would be logical. They are all identical, and I don’t want to hurt their feelings by calling any the wrong name.”

“...yeah... that’s probably the safest way. What about this guy? He’s got an eyebrow.”

Giorno picked up the duck in question, “Why, yes, he does,” Giorno held the duck up to Mista, “you name him.”

“Such responsibility,” Mista said as he grabbed the duck, “He looks... like a... oh! I know! I’ll call him Phillip! Now I pray that he doesn’t find himself in a duel.”

Trish snorted, “Another Hammy reference?”

Mista shrugged, “I was listening to it this morning.”

“Hammy?” Giorno questioned.

“Hamilton,” Trish clarified.

Giorno’s eyes lit up a bit, and he held his hand out. Mista put the duck in his palm, then Giorno held it up to his face and sang, “Phillip you outshine the morning sun. My son.” What a pretty voice. And he’s toning it down, I can tell.

Mista laughed, and continued the song, “When you smile, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

Giorno smiled, a bit brighter than the usual smirks, and Trish spoke up, “Do you guys have joint custody then?”

“If you’ll let me, GioGio.”

“It seems only fair to me.”

Narancia came running over, Fugo in tow, “Found them!”

Mista scooted over to make room for the two.

“Woah. That’s a lot of ducks,” Fugo commented.

“Yeah! They’re so cute!” Narancia picked up a couple, “why so many?”

“I’m not sure. But they will all be useful to me.”

“That sounds extremely ominous,” Fugo pointed out.

“Did you name them?” Narancia asked.

“Only one,” Giorno picked up the duck, “This is my son, Phillip.”

“How come he got a name? But not the others?”

“He’s the only one that looks different,” Trish said.

“True,” Fugo nodded, “How’d you come up with that name?”

“Mista did. Which is why this is also Mista’s son.”

“Aww! You guys had a kid together!” Narancia smiled.

“I-it’s not like that!” Mista tried to correct as he shoved Narancia. Narancia was laughing, with Fugo covering his smile behind him. Even Trish seemed to be in on the joke. He gave Giorno an apologetic look, which was received with a light shrug.

When they got up to leave, Giorno put all of the ducks in him and Trish’s bag. Except Phillip, who was placed very carefully on top of his head. They all decided to grab milkshakes real quick, then head home. The guy running the stand noticed the duck on Giorno’s head, but didn’t mention it, and Giorno kept on the most serious face, which he kinda always does. But still, it was hilarious.

When they walked inside, they found Abbacchio and Bucciarati cuddling on the couch, watching something on the tv. They all pulled off their shoes and set them by the door.

Bucciarati turned and smiled at them, “Welcome back! Did you all have a good day?”

“Yeah!” Narancia yelled as he jumped onto the couch, and onto Bucciarati and Abbacchio’s laps.

Abbacchio eyed them all, then landed on Giorno, “What’s that on your head, idiot?”

Bucciarati smacked Abbacchio’s arm, but Giorno ignored it, “That is my son. Why, would you like to be the god father?” Abbacchio scowled, but didn’t say anything else.

“Do you guys want the tv?” Bucciarati asked.

“Can we?” Narancia looked up at him.

“Of course. Just don’t stay up on games too long, make sure you rest your eyes before you tone down for bed.”

“Yay! Set up the PS3!”

Fugo went to set up the device, and Narancia jumped up to look at their games. Abbacchio and Bucciarati left, probably to go watch the tv in their room.

“What should we play?” Narancia asked with his back to them.

“Well, since we’re noobs you guys can pick,” Trish said.

“Alright. Uh... pull out Mortal Kombat,” Mista decided.

“Which one?”

“Um... two. The old stuff’s better.”

Narancia pulled out the game and handed it to Fugo. Mista grabbed two of the controllers and fell back onto the couch. Trish put their bag behind the couch, then sat down next to Mista. Giorno sat next to her.

“So, inform us. What is this game?”

Mista settled into his seat a bit more,” Only one of the best fighting games ever. It’s at the top with stuff like Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Caliber, and even, in my opinion, Street Fighter x Tekken. So basically, there’s a single player mode in most of these. It’s like a story play mode, so you’d pick one character, then it takes you through their story. You fight other relevent characters along the way. Since that’s single player though, we’re playing double player. So for that, two players fight each other with the characters they choose.”

“I see. So how do I choose a character? Are there certain characters that are better than others?”

“Um... Fugo?”

“It’s harder to tell,” he started while walking over to the couch, “Some people are better at playing certain characters than others, so your skill definitely shifts the scales. But it’s Scorpion.”

“It’s Scorpion,” Narancia nodded.

“If there’s a best character, then why doesn’t everyone play them?” Trish asked.

“That’s boring,” Narancia answered, which Fugo and Mista nodded in agreement to.

“Fair enough,” she shrugged.

“Who wants to go first?” Mista waved the controllers.

“Mind if I go?” Trish inquired. He handed one controller to her.

“I’ll fight you!” Narancia offered.

“You’re on!” Trish smiled, “Now how the hell do I play.”

Mista chuckled, and helped her figure out the controls before they started. Giorno leaned over her shoulder to watch as well.

“Who do I pick?” Trish asked when she was finally ready.

“Whoever you want,” Fugo replied.

“Uhhh... this guy looks intimidating.”

“Shao Kahn?” Narancia tapped his chin in thought, “Alright. I’m going... Reptile.”

“Reptile?” Mista gawked at him, “Good luck.”

Narancia made sure to avoid the chameleon ability, seeing as it’s the dumbest thing you can do. Sure, the enemy can’t see you. But neither can you. Trish put up a good fight, but ended up losing.

When it was time for Narancia to do the finisher, Trish shrieked, “Why’d you do that?!”

“That’s part of the game,” Narancia laughed.

“That’s disgusting! Right Gio?!”

“No comment.”

Trish whipped her head around to look at Giorno, “What do you mean?! He just ate my head off!”

Mista and Narancia were laughing, but Trish eventually calmed down.

“You gotta pass the controller now, Trish.”

“Huh?”

“It’s like a tournament,” Fugo explained, “The loser has to pass the controller, so that the winner faces the next person.”

“Oh... we’ll then who’s next?”

Trish tried to pass it to Giorno, but he shook his head, “I would like to keep observing for now.”

“I can go,” Fugo held out his hand to grab the controller.

“I pick Liu Kang this time!” Narancia called out.

“Of course you did. If you’re doing him, I’m picking Raiden.”

Narancia smirked at him. Fugo always plays Raiden. It ended up being down to the smallest sliver of health on both sides. But Narancia had pulled a special move last second. Fugo almost threw his controller into the tv, considering he was so close to victory.

Trish huffed, “At least your head didn’t get eaten.”

“I’ll get Narancia off his high horse!” Mista claimed as he grabbed the controller.

“I’d like to see you try!”

Narancia picked Johnny Cage. A fools mistake. Mista picked Shang Tsung, and prepared to win. He did end up winning, of course. Narancia really shouldn’t have gotten too cocky and picked Johnny Cage. Narancia dropped his head in defeat, and passed the remote to Giorno.

“Think you can beat me GioGio?”

“I’m not sure. I would like to hope so.”

“I’m a professional at this game. A veteran. I’m gonna win.”

Giorno gave him look that he interrupted as, That’s what you think. Mista just smiled at him triumphantly.

“Pick a fighter!” Narancia cheered, already over his loss.

“Hm... I pick him. He’s pretty,” Giorno said.

“What the fuck? You think Scorpion is pretty?” Missy asked, kinda confused.

“This is Scorpion? The best? I would expect the one with robot arms to be the best,” Giorno tapped his chin.

“Jax? Oh no no. He’s the worst,” Fugo corrected.

“Well,” Mista continued, “If we’re just going off of aesthetics here, it’s either Mileena or Kitana.”

“Mileena?” Narancia gaped, “Kitana is way hotter.”

“What, Mista?” Fugo mocked, “Are you into crazy cannibal sisters?”

“Sorry. Insanity is kinda hot,” Mista shrugged.

Trish burst out laughing. Oh shit. I just said that in front of him. I regret many things.

“Whatever I pick Kitana,” Mista tried to cover up.

Giorno sat cross-legged on the couch, inspecting his controller. “Need me to explain the buttons again?” Mista asked. Giorno shook his head, and looked up at the screen. Mista shrugged and looked up at the screen too. He felt a little bad, since Giorno was new to the game. But he wasn’t gonna purposefully skew his winning streak of the day.

Giorno got the first hit. A low kick that happened faster than Mista was expecting. He wasn’t worried, though. That is, until Giorno had cut Mista down to half health before Mista could even get a hit in. Giorno had also apparently already perfected the ‘get over here’ move, not a good thing for Mista. Mista could barely register as the ‘Finish Him’ words flashed onto the screen, and Scorpion ripped Kitana’s spine out.

“Dude!” Narancia yelled out, “That was crazy! You sure you’ve never played?”

“Quite sure.”

“That was awesome Gio!” Trish cheered for him.

“There’s no way,” Mista said,” What time is it?”

“It’s already 5:30. Way past 4 for it to be that.”

“No no no. There’s gotta be a four somewhere. There’s just no way.”

“Can’t accept it?” Giorno bragged.

“Uh- Wait! I got it! I was the fourth one with the controller! That’s why!”

“Don’t deny the truth Mista,” Trish laughed.

“Too bad! Denial!”

Bucciarati popped his head out from his room, “Did you guys want dinner?”

“We brought enough snacks for that,” Trish shook her head.

Narancia rubbed his hands together in anticipation, and Bucciarati nodded and slipped back into his room.

“You wanna play something else?” Fugo asked them all.

“Is there a game where all of us can play?” Trish inquired.

“Uh... there’s five of us, so it’s uneven. We’ve got a bunch of four players. But if we pick a good game for it, we could make one ‘player’ a team.”

Narancia thought for a second before jumping up, “Wargroove!”

Mista’s spirits lifted, “Yeah! Who’re the teams?”

“While you guys debate, I’m gonna go put me and Gio’s stuff away, and probably get my pjs on.”

“I’ll come with! I’ll show you Mista’s room. Oh, I’m so excited to show you my comfy sleepover pajamas!” Narancia and Trish headed off.

When they came back, Trish had on a baggy light blue shirt, along with shorts that were almost covered by the shirt. Narancia had on a navy blue tank top that was way too big for him, practically falling off his shoulders, and orange plaid pants. They had decided that the team would be Mista and Trish. Since Narancia was suspiciously good at this game. Fugo was a master strategist for no reason. And Giorno seemed to be showing a weird ability to be good at literally everything.

For each of their commanders, Fugo picked Sedge, because of his Sadistic Rush ability, Narancia picked Ragna, for their Sheild Jump, Giorno picked Sigrid, for reasons unknown to Mista, and he let Trish pick Mercia.

After they finished explaining the way to play, things kicked off strong. First, Narancia took out Trish and Mista, which Trish was surprised at, but Mista wasn’t since there were four teams. Next, Giorno was able to take Fugo out before he could get a good group set up. So it was left to Giorno and Narancia. Normally, it ended up Fugo and Narancia, so Mista left to do something else while they fought. But this time, he was actually excited to watch each turn go by, as they both built up their army’s, expecting the other to attack soon. Narancia had just been buying whatever troops he could afford, but Giorno seemed to have been planing this from the beginning. Giorno had started off the game only buying the cheep troops, so now at this stage in the game, he had enough money to buy 10 dragons, and then some. When Giorno was satisfied, he started chipping away at Narancia’s left, which had weaker troops. Narancia tried to compensate by sending some of his people over there, but Giorno used this opportunity to go after the now sparse right side. Narancia cried out as Giorno surrounded him, realizing he should have been more careful. In the end, it was probably inevitable that Giorno won. He even pulled out Sigrid’s ability at the end, which everyone had forgotten about.

“Ah!!!” Narancia cried out when the game was over, “There’s no way!!”

“Jeez, that was way cool dude,” Mista stared at the screen surprised.

“I’m watching you Giorno,” Fugo glared at him.

“Yes yes, I’m sure you will,” Giorno waved him off.

“It’s already 9,” Trish said, looking at her phone, “wanna do something else? I brought a goodie bag.”

“A goodie bag!” Narancia hopped up from his seat, “What’s inside?!”

“You’ll just have to find out! The rest of you, get into your best pajamas, because we have some things to do!”