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Narancia generally didn’t try to think too deeply about his relationships to his other team members. To him they were like a weird, fucked up family, and he cared about each of them dearly. He used to worry about what they thought of him way back when he first forced his way into Buccarati’s team, but nowadays he knew that they all cared about him as both a teammate and a friend. He could relax and, more importantly, trust them, so he didn’t bother to try and analyze his relationships to them. Well, except for when it came to Fugo. He was a special case, or something like that.
Neither of them were exactly sure how to categorize their relationship, but if anyone asked, they were simply best friends. They shared a room back at Bucciarati’s house and tended to lump their laundry together to save time, mainly since Narancia carelessly would throw his clothes in Fugo’s personal hamper all the time. They had inside jokes, half of them shared with Mista and a few with the whole gang, and they knew the best ways to make each other laugh. They had their own routines that they followed on days off, including their pre and post-mission hang out sessions. They knew everything about each other, even the ugliest things, and still were able to look beyond it to focus on the good parts. Really, they were best friends. Even if they fought… a lot.
Still, it was complicated. Mista was Narancia’s other best friend but he didn’t want to kiss him or hold hands with him or do any of that mushy shit with him, and while they were still affectionate to each other they didn’t actually mean anything by it. But with Fugo… well. It was just different with him; it was hard to explain.
Fugo wasn’t the most easygoing guy. He tended to be moody and unpredictable when he was stressed, which of course was all the fucking time because he was Bucciarati’s right-hand man. He was always grumbling about paperwork and missions even though he probably went on the least amount of them, and when he was in “work mode” it could be beyond hard to talk to him. It wasn’t that the blond was unaware of this, and sometimes Fugo tried to be more chill and do normal things like help Narancia with studying or join in on Mista’s lunch debates, but more often than not he would get himself worked up and fly off the handle. Usually it was all yelling and didn’t get violent, but they were a team of gangsters who mostly had strong tempers, so it wasn’t surprising when Bucciarati walked in on his team members bruised and/or bloodied from a disagreement.
Despite how volatile Fugo seemed to be, he was still miles better than when he first joined, and that was thanks to all the hard work Fugo had been doing with Bucciarati to help control his emotions. Bucciarati must have been some kind of saint, or maybe just a therapist, in a past life because it was honestly working wonders. Still didn’t mean Fugo wasn’t snappy and irritated on the job, though.
However, when he finally gave himself time to relax, Fugo was an absolute joy to be around. Well, at least to Narancia he was. Sometimes Mista claimed that Narancia exaggerated how nice Fugo could be, but he swore he was telling the truth, really! Fugo was just more subtle in his affections; he wasn’t a fan of making a scene. Like one time Narancia had been complaining to everyone during breakfast about this horrible migraine he had, and everyone seemed to ignore him or tell him to get over it… which now that he thought about it was so not fair since every time Abbacchio complained about a headache Bucciarati was so nice to him and forced everyone to be nice to him, too. Why couldn’t Bucciarati dote on him like that? It wasn’t fair! But anyway, the point was that Fugo actually had been paying attention to what he said because when Narancia got back to his room after his shower, Fugo had left him some kind of pain medication, a drink, and a little bag of sweets on the bedside table. There was also a note stating that he hoped Narancia felt better soon, and if he was still feeling bad by the time Fugo got back from the job he had to do then he would try to help him more. And maybe Narancia ended up keeping that note with him ever since, but who could blame him? It was a sweet gesture and looking at the caring words made Narancia’s stomach do weird flips but totally in a good way. Fugo made him feel like that a lot.
Sometimes at night they would stay up way later than they probably should, and they would talk about anything and everything as they laid in bed together. Narancia had pushed their beds flush against each other in their room a while back because it had gotten too annoying to keep going from his to Fugo’s bed all the time, and even though the others had thought it was a little weird no one could deny that now he and Fugo technically had the biggest bed in the house. So, in his mind it was worth it. Now they both could lay in bed together and have enough space for themselves if they wanted it. And it also was nice, late at night, to be able to just reach out and hold onto Fugo’s arm and remind himself that the other boy was with him and he wasn’t alone anymore. He already knew Fugo wouldn’t ever leave him if he could help it, but it was a comforting reminder.
Fugo usually never minded Narancia sliding closer and curling around him at night either, except for some very specific times where it was clear that Fugo didn’t want anyone even laying a finger on him. Saying that it was tough seeing him like that was an understatement, especially when he knew the reason why he got in those moods and knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Narancia had to remind himself that Fugo was still able to find comfort in his presence and trusted that he would respect his wishes, and that trust was important. But, thankfully, the amount of nights where he had to watch the most special person in the world to him shake and curl up in a ball on his side of the bed had dwindled, and more often than not they would find themselves tangled up together by the time the sun rose. Narancia would almost always wake up first even if he would rather sleep in, but he honestly didn’t really mind. After all, watching Fugo wake up, realize where he was, and sleepily smile at Narancia and mumble a good morning into his pillow was probably the cutest thing ever. Or one of the cutest things, at least. Fugo would kill him if he knew that was what he thought, so Narancia happily kept his little secret to himself.
Every now and then Fugo would get in an especially soft mood, usually late in the evening or at night. He would be the one to initiate contact as they laid in bed, and he would murmur things about how happy he was that Narancia was with him, how amazing he thought he was, and how Narancia was one of the biggest reasons why he wanted to better himself. It set Narancia’s heart on fire, and the praise and the blond’s fond tone of voice made his brain malfunction. Fugo’s arms were gentle around him, and Narancia could only press his wobbly smile into the crook of Fugo’s neck and hug him back. He would laugh a little out of disbelief that someone as smart and capable as Fugo thought so highly of him, and the arms wrapped around him would tighten ever so slightly. Honestly, if he had gotten struck down in that very moment he wouldn’t have minded because he was sure he would die completely satisfied and happy.
Well… maybe he would have minded actually, because then he would be leaving Fugo all alone. The idea of Fugo being alone made him feel an ache that was so deep, it hurt to even consider. He never wanted to leave Fugo’s side, not ever, even though he knew they worked one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. Narancia wasn’t sure if they were allowed to call that love. He knew he felt something like that towards Fugo, but love could get them killed, and not just by enemy stand users. But still, if Fugo ever told him that he loved him then Narancia supposed he would just have to stop caring what they were allowed to say or do.
So, it technically didn’t matter what they called their complicated relationship. If someone wanted to call them weirdly intimate best friends then that was fine, he could live with that. But if someone wanted to call them lovers, then... you know. He definitely wouldn’t complain. Though, if he absolutely had to pick a word, Narancia was almost certain that he and Fugo were soulmates. Fugo probably would think the idea of something like that didn’t make any logical sense, but honestly why would it be so farfetched? They had magical mind ghosts with superpowers manifested from their souls, why would it be so hard to believe that a soul could be connected to another person’s in some way? Or to multiple people, even? It made complete sense to him. In his mind Fugo was his soulmate, and in more than just that mushy, cheesy way. He and Fugo simply fit together, and he wanted to be with him in whatever way he could for as long as possible. Fugo may not always have a way with words, but Narancia knew that he felt the same.
That thought was what led Narancia into a jewelry store in downtown Naples, buying something called a promise ring at the young age of 17. He had asked a very suspicious Abbacchio the day before about what people did to tell someone that they wanted to be with them forever but weren’t ready to get married, and the older man had enlightened him with the information that promise rings existed for that very reason. He then dodged a few questions about why he was even asking in the first place and was easily able to get the other to promise to not tell anyone about their conversation. That was one of the best things about Abbacchio; Narancia knew he was his favorite of the “kids”, so all he had to do was act a little sweet and maybe say “please”, if he was desperate he’d even force himself to shed a few crocodile tears, and he would typically get what he wanted. Abbacchio allowed this to happen every time even though he knew he was being played, which proved that the big guy really was just a huge softie deep, deep down. It was so convenient!
He kind of wished he told Abbacchio his plan just so he could bring him along and have a second opinion on what to get, but it probably was for the best that his plan stayed a secret. Just like most of the important things in his relationship to Fugo, Narancia wanted this to be private, a moment shared between just the two of them. It was more special that way. The others could find out later, once they both were more comfortable telling them. That is, only if Fugo actually ended up wanting this.
After what seemed like forever, Narancia finally found a ring in his budget that he wanted to get: simple, golden bands that could have a custom message inscribed on the inside. Honestly Narancia didn’t think too much about most of the little details of the ring, even though to the jeweler assisting him it seemed pretty important. The only detail he really gave a shit about was the inscription and the color, honestly. Also she kept bringing up the prices of everything and had been eyeing him suspiciously, which he had quickly realized were telltale signs of someone who thought he was here to shoplift. He might look a bit young to be shopping for fancy rings, but he had his wallet out so he thought the lady was being overdramatic. His days of thievery were long behind him. Mostly.
Even though he was ready to buy, apparently he had to come back a week later to actually buy it in the right size and with the inscription, which was dumb and ruined his plan to just go give it to Fugo immediately so he could avoid chickening out. Instead, he had to make up an excuse to leave the house that next weekend, and he made his way back to the jewelry store. He paid for the rings in cash, honestly a tiny bit disappointed that he was using up all of his savings from work in one go. At least it wasn’t like he had been planning on buying anything big with the money, except he kind of was eyeing that cool boombox at the music store he frequented. Oh well, this was more important than some dumb thing anyway.
He didn’t actually start worrying about the prospect of Fugo not liking this gift until he was halfway to the Libeccio where he knew the other boy would be. Bucciarati wanted them to meet up at the restaurant for a meeting less than in an hour, which meant Fugo almost certainly would already be there at their regular table reading a book or getting some other work done. He had a small window of opportunity to get this done before someone else might decide to arrive, so he hightailed it over there.
The workers at the Libeccio didn’t even have to greet him as he walked through the doors, they recognized him immediately and allowed him to go where he pleased. Narancia couldn’t help the goofy grin from appearing on his face when he saw the blonde at his usual seat, book in hand. Fugo looked so relaxed and at ease in that moment, the light hitting him just right, and he looked absolutely beautiful. Or maybe Narancia was just feeling extra sappy today. Damn, were all of those dumb rom-coms that Mista made them watch together finally getting to him?
He patted his skirt pockets to double check that the box was still there, because if someone had swiped it from him then he would probably have lost his mind right then and there. Thankfully he could feel the shape of it when he checked, and he breathed a sigh of relief and continued toward the table. Fugo glanced up once he got close enough, surprise evident on his face. Narancia never was one to show up early to things unless he was forced to (usually by Fugo), so to see him so early usually meant there was a problem.
“Narancia! Is everything alright?” the blond asked, immediately putting in his bookmark in his book so he could focus his full attention on the boy in front of him. Narancia had to force himself to keep his expression relaxed, but because Fugo was so attuned to his emotions by now he was easily able to tell that something was up.
After scanning the room to assure himself that no one was watching, Fugo gingerly took hold of Narancia’s hand with both of his and stared up at him, and the older boy felt as though his heart was going to burst at the gesture. Warm feelings bloomed in his chest like flowers, and he couldn’t stop the thoughts from flying through his head. How could anyone ever think badly of Fugo? How could Fugo think of himself as such a horrible man when Narancia could only see the kind, gentle person sitting before him? … Shit, those rom-coms were getting to him! Still, he wanted to kiss Fugo on the mouth right then and there, but he knew how Fugo felt about PDA. It was dangerous, even in their little safe zone here.
Also there was the fact that they had never actually kissed like that before. Sure, sometimes they kissed each other on the cheek or the forehead, and Narancia also knew that Fugo would never admit it but he liked when Narancia would rub their noses together… and that counted as a kind of kiss, right? But, even if they did all of that, neither of them had ever initiated an actual, real kiss on the lips. Not even that one time when Narancia almost died on a mission that he was on with Fugo and Mista a few months ago. When Fugo found him laying on the ground, their enemy dead and Narancia halfway to joining him, he was barely able to carry him back to Mista so they could patch him up before the tears began falling. Even though he was barely conscious at the time, he could remember that moment distinctly, and when Mista had left to call Bucciarati for help Fugo kissed all over his face as he shook above him. Still, he didn’t kiss him on the lips. Maybe he just didn’t want to.
After pondering over that idea for approximately five seconds, Narancia decided he could live with that, actually. He was already fine with how things were, he never expected anything more from Fugo. They were happy now, nothing needed to change unless they wanted it to.
A gentle tug brought Narancia back to the present, and he realized that Fugo’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong, Narancia?” Fugo tried again, his voice quiet but with a touch of anxiety. Narancia squeezed back and sat down beside him, shaking his head.
“Nothin’s wrong, I swear,” Narancia smiled at the boy beside him, still trying to act like he wasn’t about to do the dumbest thing ever and give his teenaged mafioso companion a promise ring in the middle of this restaurant right before the rest of their team showed up, and he still might not want it and then everything would be awkward and-
There was another squeeze. They locked eyes, and Fugo leaned in close. For a second Narancia thought maybe this was finally it and Fugo was actually going to be brave and kiss him, but it turned out that Fugo was only trying to get closer so he could speak more quietly.
“Talk to me,” Fugo murmured, his voice close to his ear so only they could hear. Narancia scooted his chair closer until it was pressed up against Fugo’s. Their hands stayed clasped together, and Narancia began to relax ever so slightly. He had to tell himself that everything would be fine before he lost his confidence. Fugo was his person. He understood him. He would understand this, and even if he didn’t want it he wouldn’t get too mad. He rarely blew up over random things nowadays. But honestly, there was a good chance Fugo would actually really like the gift. The blond was secretly more sappy than even Mista sometimes, which was saying a lot, so it would make sense that he would enjoy stuff like promise rings. So, Narancia decided to just start talking like he always did and hoped he didn’t sound too weird.
“Okay. So, Fugo, you know that I- you’re my best friend,” He began, carefully watching his companion, and was surprised to see a frown appear on Fugo’s face for a brief moment. Still, he forced himself to continue. “I mean, you’re more than even that. You’re my favorite person… But don’t tell the others or they might get jealous. Unless that’s what you want, of course!”
Hearing Fugo chuckle at his little joke made Narancia feel a bit lighter. He was laughing, they were smiling at each other, and both of those things were good signs. “Uh, I know we kind of do a lot of things that friends don’t typically do – not that that’s a problem! – so I don’t know if we have an exact label for what we are. But, um, I don’t really care about that exactly. All I know is that I want to be by your side, and you do too. Right?”
He watched Fugo nod his head in response, probably confused as all hell right now. But that confirmation was all Narancia needed before he pulled out the object from his pocket. Fugo’s eyes immediately widened upon seeing the little black box, and his grip on Narancia’s hand jerked tighter. Narancia was struck with the realization that the other probably thought he was getting proposed, to and his heart began to beat frantically as he rushed to talk, not wanting Fugo to misunderstand his intentions. “It’s not what you think, I swear!” He exclaimed, and immediately one of the blond’s hands clamped over his mouth. Fugo apologized to the few people who turned their heads at Narancia’s outburst, and he only let go when everyone turned back to their own tables.
“Narancia, what the hell!” Fugo hissed, not able to take his eyes off the object that was about to be presented to him. Narancia gulped, knowing now that he probably should have added some kind of disclaimer before he began to talk. Oops. He knew Fugo was just caught off guard, and he could feel his hand shaking in his grip. Narancia ran his thumb over his knuckles a few times in hopes that it would help calm him down, and thankfully Fugo relaxed his shoulders and slouched back a bit.
“Just hear me out.” Narancia hoped that Fugo would be able to listen, and just to get his point across he looked the other in the eyes and murmured a soft, “please, Panna.” Fugo’s face flushed, as it usually did upon hearing that nickname, and he silently nodded and allowed Narancia to continue. “I know what you think this is and I promise you that it isn’t that, really. But, uh, I guess it’s similar? … No, don’t give me that look! It’s just, I dunno. I know I already said this but I wanna be by your side forever, and- I mean, I know it’s dumb for me to say forever because we’re not even guaranteed the next twenty four hours, but that’s the point, I guess. I care about you so much that it hurts, but not like the ‘ow I need to go to the hospital’ kind of hurt, y’know?” Man, he probably wasn’t making any sense, and Fugo didn’t look like he was really understanding it either. Translating his thoughts into actual spoken words was too damn hard sometimes.
“UGH! I meant to plan out what I wanted to say before I came here, but I forgot… Whatever, what I’m trying to say is that I know that we’re probably going to be thrown six feet under before the end of the decade, that’s just a- it’s just a fact. Who knows how long we have left? Fugo, I could…” Narancia trailed off, having to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. The unspoken words weighed down on the both of them, but after a few seconds Narancia cleared his throat, determined to finish. “We don’t know how much longer we have together, and it sucks so bad. I hate thinking about it and I’m sure you do too, but I got this for you because I just, I dunno, wanted to tell you that I want to be by your side for as much time as we have left.”
Decently satisfied that he gave a good enough explanation, Narancia freed his hand from Fugo’s grasp and used it to open the box in his direction. The ring sat inside, shimmering in the light, and part of Narancia wanted to see Fugo’s expression. However, he was too nervous to look at him, afraid of his gift being rejected. “It’s a promise ring. Apparently people give it to someone to uh, symbolize a commitment to each other. With this, we won’t have to feel apart even if we aren’t around each other… but you can say no to it, I promise I won’t be upset.”
The silence was choking him, and he forced his head up to see why Fugo hadn’t responded. The blond was staring at the shining ring, his expression blank and unreadable. His hands were clasped in his lap so tightly that parts of his hands were turning white with the pressure, and Narancia was worried that he was mad.
“You can say no, Fugo,” Narancia repeated, trying to prompt him to say something, anything at this point. He began to feel desperate as more and more time passed. “I would never force you to take something like this, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You can tell me if you don’t like it, but please just say something…”
He was about to start a fresh round of apologies for messing everything up, but he paused upon noticing that Fugo’s eyes for unnaturally shiny now. He watched with a small spark of hope as Fugo’s lip wobbled slightly, unclasping his hands and hesitantly bringing his right one up between them, shaking.
“Can you… can you put it on me?”
Fugo’s voice sounded so, so small in that moment, like he was a fragile thing about to break. It was uncharacteristic of him, and it made Narancia want to grab him and hold him close. He knew he couldn’t do that right now, so he put the box down on the table and took Fugo’s hand in his once more. His free hand picked up the ring, sliding it onto his ring finger. Thankfully it was the right size, and it slid on perfectly. Narancia couldn’t help a smile from growing on his face, but Fugo still looked like he wanted to cry. Now that wouldn’t do.
“Oh, Panna…” Narancia cupped the blond’s cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding his, swiping his thumb along his cheekbone and collecting a stray tear that actually had started to fall. It took everything in him to not just launch himself at him, still wanting to keep their PDA down for Fugo’s sake. Fugo would come to him in time. “Do you like it? I always thought you looked pretty in gold.”
Fugo’s skin turned pink under his hand, and it took another minute before the other was able to speak. “Jesus, Narancia… You can’t just say stuff like that so easily,” Fugo mumbled, scanning the room again. No one was watching, which was a relief. “I- yeah. This was unexpected. I never thought that… or that anyone would- or that you would…” Fugo tripped over his words like Narancia had earlier, and it was more than a little endearing. Narancia still wanted to kiss his lips. He held back.
“I never could imagine anyone ever entertaining the thought of marrying me, or even- even wanting to make a commitment like this to me, and that’s not even because of the gang,” Fugo admitted after another few failed attempts at speaking, and then he did the unexpected.
Narancia wasn’t sure if the two of them had ever hugged in public like this before. Fugo allowed him and Mista to sling an arm over his shoulders and sometimes he might let them link arms, but that was it. Right now, though, he had the blond practically in his lap in the middle of the restaurant where all the staff members knew their names, and he could tell that Fugo was trying to hold back more tears. He must have been more overwhelmed than Narancia had thought he would get, and he did his best to comfort the person he had grown so fond of.
They had conversations in the past about one of them dying before the other, many times actually. Usually, though, it ended up with Narancia crying in Fugo’s arms because the idea of losing any of his teammates, his family, made his heart hurt more than he could handle. Usually Fugo was able to keep his composure, but perhaps the rings made it all feel too real for him to handle. Once Narancia put his own ring on, they would be connected so even when they were apart, even if the worst happened and one of them died, they could still be together in a sense.
Fugo must have finally remembered where they were, because after a minute he suddenly jumped back, falling into his own seat despite absolutely no one even watching them. After taking a couple of seconds to gain his composure, he stared at the ring on his finger, and his eyes trailed to the now empty box. “Did you only get one for me, or do you have one too?” He asked, sounding a lot more in control now. Like his anger, most of Fugo’s stronger emotions passed as quickly as they arrived, so it wasn’t surprising.
“Oh, I have one right here!” Narancia quickly fished out his own ring and slipped it onto his right ring finger without even thinking to ask if Fugo wanted to put the ring on for him. Well, it was already there now so he decided to just continue on. “See? Now even if we’re on opposite sides of the country we can still be together. Kinda. And Mista once told me that your ghost wears whatever clothes you died in, so even if… you know. We’d still be connected as long as we were wearing the rings.”
He worried about if he shouldn’t have said the last part, but Fugo was staring at the rings more curiously than sadly now. He must have had some kind of idea. “You know, that just made me think… even if they’re on the right and not the left hand, it would be bad if a potential enemy saw matching rings on our fingers, wouldn’t it?” Fugo questioned, a hint of worry in his eyes. Narancia’s face fell; he hadn’t even thought of that. Would they not be able to wear the rings, then? The whole point of them was to wear them, though, so he had to come up with a plan.
“Well… what if we wore them on a necklace?” He suggested as soon as he had the thought. “Kinda like people do with dog tags and stuff. Actually, my outfit wouldn’t work for the necklace now that I think about it… but I could put mine on a bracelet and hide it under my wristband!” The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. They’d be able to wear it while staying safe, it was perfect! Fugo seemed to like it as well, and he nodded his head thoughtfully.
“I could wear it as a necklace, though.” Fugo lifted his hand up to eye level so he could examine the ring and watch it glisten, and then his focus went to Narancia. “I could wear it under my tie and it’ll barely be noticeable.”
For a few moments neither of them said a word, their eyes locked. Narancia knew the look Fugo was giving him; it was the one where Fugo clearly wanted something but was too much of a chicken to just ask for it. Really, Fugo acted all tough and shit but he honestly was the biggest baby with some things. So, with a lighthearted chuckle, Narancia put his arm out. “C’mere, Panna. No one’s watching.” He waggled his fingers after talking, hoping that if he was casual enough then Fugo would give into his desires and stop worrying about someone seeing them.
Fugo was having a clear battle with two different thoughts in his head, but when the ring on Narancia’s finger caught his eye again it made him pause. It was like he was just realizing that not only did Narancia want Fugo to be connected to him, but he also wanted to be connected to Fugo, too. It was a mutual thing, and he seemed to finally understand that. It made him reach out and grab Narancia’s wrist to stare at the ring, but after a minute he leaned in more and put his other hand on Narancia’s left knee. It was a clear invitation for Narancia to close the distance between them, probably because Fugo couldn’t bring himself to do it out of embarrassment. See? He was a big baby, but it was cute so it was alright.
He went to give him another hug, but suddenly Fugo’s hand moved from his knee to his shoulder and he was held still. Was Fugo… pouting? That was weird, pouting was Narancia’s thing; Fugo tended to stay more collected when he was disappointed. “What are you doing?” was all Fugo asked, confusion evident in his voice, and that was a good question given that now Narancia wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to do at all.
“Uh, hugging you? Duh,” Narancia finally responded, making a weird face at him. Wasn’t it obvious? What else would Fugo want him to do? He had no idea; it wasn’t like Narancia could read minds! Of course Fugo had to make this stuff so difficult all the time.
Fugo frowned more at Narancia’s answer, his eyes flickering up and down in a nervous way. “Why would you hug me?” He asked, and Narancia frowned back, searching over Fugo’s face like there was some hidden answer there that he could cheat with. Sadly, there was nothing there except a more confused and concerned Fugo.
“I thought you wanted me to?” Narancia replied with his own question, his voice growing louder the more confused he was, but he settled down after Fugo frantically shushed him. “Sorry,” the shorter boy apologized, not wanting this to become an argument. This was supposed to be a happy, kinda bittersweet moment, not a bad one.
They sat there, wrapped up in another silence that was just long enough to make Narancia anxious. Fugo looked uncomfortable too. He didn’t seem angry, though, since instead of looking like he wanted to storm off he just sat there biting his lip, face turning bright red. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Fugo spoke. “… Don’t laugh. I just- I thought people were supposed to kiss after they give the rings.”
Wait.
What?
“Who told you that!?” Narancia needed to know. He didn’t know that! He didn’t know shit about ring-giving customs. Maybe he should have talked to Abbacchio about it more after all. Damn! And he thought he knew what he was doing, too! He wanted to smack his past self upside the head until he remembered why he didn’t tell Abbacchio the first place. Right, he didn’t want him ruining the secret. Well, he still probably could have gone to the library with one of their library cards or even sneaked on Bruno’s desktop at night to look it up on the internet. Hindsight really was 20/20, huh.
Fugo somehow looked even more embarrassed, which Narancia hadn’t thought was possible. He also looked a little annoyed that Narancia didn’t immediately agree with him, but he quickly learned the real reason why Fugo was struggling so much to reply when the blond quietly mumbled, “… Mista told me.”
Holy shit, Mista was the one who told Fugo that? And Fugo believed him? The world must be ending, they were in the moment right before a giant meteor crashed through the ceiling and destroyed the whole world. Also everything Mista said was wrong and dumb so he had no idea why someone as smart as Fugo would ever listen to him. “Fugo, you an’ I both know Mista’s usually full of shit. Why would you just believe him on that?” He tilted his head in confusion, and Fugo seemed to mentally debate something in his head before eventually blurting out an answer.
“Because Bucciarati agreed with him!”
Narancia’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. Oh, that changed everything. If Bucciarati agreed, then maybe Mista actually had a point for once in his life. Good for him! But that also brought up a whole new question… “Wait, why the fuck were you, Mista, and Bucciarati talking about giving people rings and kissing?” He asked, making a face as he tried to imagine what scenario they must have been in for that to happen.
Fugo sputtered, averting his gaze. “We were just watching a movie! Jeez, that’s not even my point, you moron!” He huffed agrily, but then realized what he said and immediately backtracked, a worried look in his eyes when his head whipped back up to stare him in the face. “Wait, no- Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that. Or get loud like that.” His eyes kept jumping back and forth from the ring to Narancia’s face, and oh, he must have been worried that Narancia would want the rings back if Fugo lost his cool on him.
He also realized half a second later that Fugo was trying to ask to be kissed. Oh. Oh man. Suddenly Narancia was the one whose face was reddening, and he was sure his pupils were blown out so wide. “Fugo, it’s okay,” He reassured his companion, gently pulling his wrist out of Fugo’s grasp and reaching forward. He was slow and deliberate, the opposite of how he usually acted, and he was fully focused on Fugo’s reaction as he placed his hand back on Fugo’s cheek. If he was wrong about this for some reason, he wanted to give Fugo time to react and pull away. To his relief, the other stayed mostly still and actually leaned his head into his hand more fully, which was wow, so cute. Jeez, he really was extra mushy today, but he supposed giving promise rings to someone would do that to anyone.
“Fugo…” Narancia murmured, voice barely above a whisper now. “We’re in public. You don’t mind?” He was almost vibrating with excitement at the moment, but he forced all of the nerves that felt like they were on fire to just settle down for one more second because this was important. Kissing could wait a little longer, even though he could barely focus on anything else besides Fugo’s lips. They looked soft. Did he use a lip balm or something? He bet that it probably tasted like strawberries. He wanted to find out. He knew he had to wait though, as hard as that was.
Fugo stiffened briefly, and Narancia immediately went to move his hand away until Fugo’s own hand shot up, holding it in place. He was shaking slightly, but Narancia hoped it was just from the anticipation. “It’s not like going outside would be, uh, much different,” Fugo eventually explained, trying to sound casual but failing miserably considering how he kept checking around them to make sure no one was watching. Just like before, no one cared what they were doing at their table. “Also that would look weird. And I… uh, I. Um. Want you to… kiss me.” His voice was a decrescendo, and if Narancia hadn’t been so focused on Fugo in that moment he almost wouldn’t have heard that last bit with how quietly it was mumbled. That would have been absolutely tragic because hearing him say those words made Narancia’s brain go absolutely wild. If he had a tail it probably would have been wagging like crazy, and on instinct he guided the taller boy’s face closer to his.
As Narancia began to lean forward he watched in amusement as Fugo immediately shut his eyes tight, practically squeezing them closed, and right before he closed the gap between them he remembered that he didn’t know shit about kissing like this. It only stopped him for a second though, because considering how Fugo had been acting he probably knew even less than him, so it didn’t matter too much if they were bad. They’d figure it out like they did everything else. So, he closed his eyes and pressed their lips together.
Honestly, the kiss was nothing too amazing. Mista always talked about it being like fireworks and rainbows and this didn’t feel like that at all… but also why was he thinking about Mista when he was kissing Fugo? That was gross and weird. So, he just focused on the boy in front of him who kept clenching and unclenching his fist on Narancia’s shoulder and just didn’t seem to know what to do with himself in general, and Narancia couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out from his lips. Fugo pulled back momentarily, looking ready to chew Narancia out for laughing at him, but Narancia easily pulled him forward again, their noses softly touching now. He then licked his lips, his eyes lighting up as he did. “Strawberry? I knew it!”
Fugo opened his mouth to come up with some kind of excuse, somehow still embarrassed whenever anyone mentioned his love of strawberries despite owning what was probably almost every strawberry-themed accessory in existence, and Narancia knew that this was his chance. He swooped in, shutting Fugo up before he could even start talking, and this time it was much better. So much better.
The hand Narancia had on Fugo’s cheek slid back so it could curl to the back of his head, allowing him to put more pressure behind the kiss. Even though his lips tasted like strawberries, Fugo’s mouth distinctly tasted of coffee, and the combination of sweet and bitter was addictive. Narancia pressed in closer, laying his hand flat on Fugo’s thigh for better balance. The reaction was immediate; Fugo’s grip on his shoulders tightened and he made a little, surprised sound in the back of his throat. His knees also began to wobble, clacking into Narancia’s legs and their chairs. Narancia had honestly forgotten just how sensitive Fugo was to people touching him, but in the moment he couldn’t say he didn’t find his reaction to be the most darling thing. He was so focused on everything Fugo was doing, from the way his hands were still trying to find the right placement on his shoulders to the way that he almost shivered ever time Narancia affectionately scratched behind his ear. The kiss itself still wasn’t even that good, and yet he was being consumed by thoughts of the boy in front of him. All he could think about was Fugo, Fugo, Fugo-
And suddenly he was gone. Narancia’s eyes flew open to see Fugo jump back, almost falling backwards in his chair, and followed the direction the other was now looking in. Walking into the room was none other than Abbacchio, that absolute bastard. He hadn’t noticed the two of them since he was currently on the phone with someone, probably Bucciarati, so Fugo must have heard his voice when he first came in through the door in the front room. Now, Narancia may have loved Abbacchio, but right in that moment that was the last person he wanted to see. Well, maybe Mista would have been worse, actually. But still! Of course Abbacchio would be the type to arrive to a meeting a half hour early! This was so fucking stupid.
“Narancia, take off your ring,” Fugo whispered as he tried forcing the redness to disappear from his face. He probably didn’t want the others to see them both wearing rings and make assumptions, which was completely fair. But… he still didn’t want to take it off.
“No way! You take it off if you’re so worried about people seeing!” Narancia whispered back, though it was more like a stage-whisper than a real one given how loud it was. Fugo immediately grabbed his hand with the ring on it and held it close to his chest, his blush reigniting much to his chagrin.
“No! I… I don’t want to either,” he admitted, looking away as he spoke. “I don’t have real pockets to put it in so I could lose it if I take it off. Plus you gave it to me, didn’t you say you liked seeing me wear gold?” He paused, his mouth quivering a little as he tried to say his next line. “So, uh, let me wear it for you.”
Narancia’s brain went into overdrive. Suddenly Narancia hated Abbacchio so much more than he did a second ago because, after hearing Fugo say that, all he wanted to do was kiss him again but he couldn’t because Abbacchio was right there in the room and oh shit he was looking right over at them.
Narancia felt a spike of fear and immediately slipped off the ring, opting to just fiddle around with it in his hand instead. He also grabbed the box it came in, hiding it under the table as their teammate walked over, sitting down across from them without even saying hello. He was off the phone now, and before he slipped on his trademark red headphones he looked at the both of them in confusion. “What the fuck is up with you two?”
Neither of them knew how to respond, but Narancia knew that silence would make him more suspicious so he decided to just say anything. “We were just talking,” he said like a genius, and Abbacchio raised an eyebrow. He had used the empty seat beside Narancia to kick his legs up, and now he was leaning back with his arms crossed, staring intensely at the two of them. Well, no one could ever get mad at Narancia for trying, at least.
“What Narancia means to say is he came here hoping that he could convince me to get out of tomorrow’s math lesson, which obviously failed,” Fugo piggybacked off of his lie, trying to make it sound more believable. “I can’t believe you thought showing up early would make me say yes, Narancia… the answer is still no, by the way.”
Abbacchio seemed ready to believe it too because, unlike Bucciarati, he wasn’t scary good at being able to tell when people were lying. He had been halfway to putting his headphones on as Fugo talked, probably expecting an argument to break out between the two of them, when Fugo made one fatal mistake. He had rested his head on his left hand and, as he spoke, was gesturing with his right hand, which made Abbacchio notice the shiny gold band around his ring finger.
He immediately turned his attention to Narancia, his eyes wide and serious. Narancia knew that he knew exactly what that was, and he also knew Abbacchio was trying to silently tell him that they were going to have a talk later if he didn’t want him telling Bucciarati. So, he raised his eyebrows at him, silently telling him back that he could fuck off to hell, and Abbacchio quietly fumed. He looked like he was about to stand up and drag Narancia outside of the restaurant so they could talk right then and there, but his attention turned towards someone else behind him. Narancia didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Bucciarati.
“Oh, wow,” Bucciarati looked surprised when Narancia actually did turn around to say hello. “Not to be rude, but I didn’t expect to see you here this early, Narancia,” He said like he himself wasn’t usually fashionably late to half of their meetings. Still, he smiled at him, so he must have been happy to see him. Narancia grinned back, knowing that if he could get on a regular conversation with him then he and Fugo would be safe from them all finding out.
“Of course!” He exclaimed, glad that he didn’t have to be so attentive to his voice level now. “I’m reinventing myself! No more tardiness for me, Bucciarati! Aren’tcha proud?” He watched as Bucciarati took a seat beside Abbacchio and raised an eyebrow at him, not believing those words for a second. Okay, rude. Was it really so hard for everyone to believe he could be on time for something? It’s not like he was ever really that late, either.
Abbacchio snorted at him. “Yeah, says the guy who was apparently just asking to skip out on his math lesson,” he teased, staring straight at Narancia as he talked. Narancia stared back, laughing when Bucciarati leaned over and swatted at Abbacchio so he would take his feet off the extra seat. Abbacchio grumbled but complied like he always did, and then Bucciarati turned back to Narancia.
“Please, Narancia, focus on your studies,” Bucciarati told him, tired of having to tell him that same sentence every other week. The team leader glanced at Fugo, who had gone back to sipping his mostly-cold coffee but was clearly paying attention. “Fugo cares a lot about you, you know that. He wants to see you succeed. We all do, we want you to go back to school just as much as you do.”
Narancia wasn’t ready for the fond but stern tone of voice Bucciarati was talking to him in, and he felt bad for making the man think that he was actually planning on skipping his tutoring session again because he totally wasn’t! He was just hoping maybe Fugo would be so happy with his gift that maybe he’d let them take tomorrow off so they could go get gelato or something special. But he wasn’t going to ask or anything! So, to ease Bucciarati’s mind, he gave him a smile in return. “I know, Bucciarati. I’ll make sure to pay attention tomorrow even if it’s hard! Watch, I’ll be back in school before you know it, and then I’m going to take the role of the smart one on the team! Watch out, Fugo! I might steal your spot!”
He gave Fugo a cheeky smile, and his companion lightly chuckled into his coffee. “Oh, yeah? Go ahead, if you steal my role you get to do my paperwork, so that’s no skin off my back. Please, go ahead.”
Bucciarati chucked at their exchange and Abbacchio rolled his eyes, and as everyone was distracted Fugo dropped his left hand down, wiggling his pinky finger. Narancia immediately caught on to what Fugo wanted to do, so he straightened out his chair and linked their pinkies together as he came up with some super smart retort. As they waited for Mista to arrive the four of them slipped into an easy conversation, and even though Narancia knew Abbacchio was still eyeing him from time to time he was able to easily ignore the intense stares. Narancia listened to Fugo talk about the book he had been reading while he was waiting for everyone – apparently it was some non-fiction about an old painter who did art in the Vatican – and as he went off about the different intricacies of the man’s paintings, Narancia watched him and allowed his feelings of pure fondness for the other boy to wash over him. He ran his thumb over the ring he held, his eyes locking with Fugo’s as he thought about the four simple words that were engraved on the inside of the ring:
‘Always by your side.’