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When he learns the news, Ghiaccio's first reaction is to deny it outright. There's no way. There's just no way the universe would screw him over this badly, right?
He cannot be pregnant.
Despite the mountains of evidence pointing to the contrary -- the near-constant nausea that's tolerable sometimes and other times keeps him stuck in the bathroom for several hours, the sensitivity to food and smells, his even more frequent than usual mood swings that are already starting despite how early along in the pregnancy he must be (no wait, no, he's not pregnant, stop that) -- Ghiaccio won't believe it at first. His mind won't let him believe it, won't let him accept what he knows to be true.
He manages all of half a day like this until his resolve, slowly but surely, starts to crumble.
Ghiaccio's never exactly had a great poker face; he has never needed one before. Ghiaccio wears all of his (mostly angry, as that's how he deals with himself and the world around him) emotions right on his face, and it's never been a huge problem for him before because he's always possessed the ability to fuck up anyone who gave him shit about it. And he's certainly never needed one with the man who is now his husband.
It's still so weird thinking of Pesci as his husband, but not for any of the reasons he thought it might be originally. It's not that he doesn't love the man, it's just that... Ghiaccio's not the type of person who ever pictured himself getting married, or being in a relationship, or, hell, even just being genuinely happy. He figured he wouldn't even live long enough to have a decent relationship, much less one that lasted long enough to end in a marriage.
And yet, here he is. Here he is, married -- the titanium ring on his finger proves that, a simple silver band that Ghiaccio insisted on buying (he didn't want a flimsy gold-set ring or something that could snap or break if you pulled on it too hard, no, he wanted something a car could run over and it'd still be fine afterwards) to symbolize the love between them -- to Pesci, a man whom he has no troubles referring to as the love of his life.
And now he's pregnant, five months after their wedding, with his husband's baby. It could be worse, he figures. Could be so much worse, but even this seems like an insurmountable mountain of an issue for him to cross. There are so many unknowns in this situation, it'd be useless trying to count up all of the variables in a way that makes any kind of sense, and yet...
Ghiaccio is trying desperately to do just that, because he just can't handle fucking not knowing what's going to happen next.
He digs his fingers into his arms as he sits alone on the couch in the apartment he and Pesci share. It's nothing grand, because that's not really like them. And, besides, the rest of La Squadra lives in this apartment complex, so they weren't about to defect and go somewhere else just for the sake of being different. And Pesci wants to stay close to Prosciutto, too (and Risotto by extension, as the two are married and have been for a few years now, strange as it seemed as first, and now they've even got a little ankle biter of their own and two more on the way) because he's the only family he's ever had before Ghiaccio.
And, well. Now before their baby, whom Ghiaccio is reluctantly coming to accept exists within him right now.
He won't be alone much longer, of that he is sure. Pesci will be home any minute, and he deserves to not have to be faced with a life-altering decision the moment he gets home, but Ghiaccio isn't really sure he can handle keeping this tucked away inside of himself for much longer before it threatens to tear him apart. He needs to talk to his husband about this, and while he knows it's his own damn fault for not doing so sooner, that doesn't stop him from feeling restless.
Then there's the sound of the key being inserted into the front door lock, and then the doorknob being turned, and suddenly the living room is flooded with the artificial light of the apartment hallway just outside of the front door, announcing Pesci's arrival.
Ghiaccio jumps to his feet in slight surprise, a shocked little noise escaping him as he does. "Uh, hey," he starts to say, without even thinking of the carefully-prepared words he'd had in his head only a few moments earlier. "Thought you weren't coming home until later?"
Pesci blinks at him, noticing right away Ghiaccio's disheveled and quite frankly hectic appearance. "I wasn't, but we got finished early... is everything okay?"
He looks worried, so worried, and Ghiaccio is just reminded even more of why he doesn't deserve him.
Ghiaccio bites his lip, trying to think of a convincing answer to that question. Is he alright? Well, the most obvious answer is no, but... there's so much he wants to say, so much he wants to do. He digs his fingers deeper into the fabric of the shirt clinging to his body, knowing full well that most of his clothes will make his condition so obvious in just a few month's time.
It's too much. The dam breaks.
Ghiaccio bursts into tears.
He should know there's only one way that's going to end, and he crumples in a heap on his knees on the floor, wrapping his arms around his midsection and curling in on himself as he cries. Obviously now incredibly worried, Pesci races over, kneels down in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder and the other on his face, wiping some of the tears flowing from his eyes.
In all of the years he's known him, Ghiaccio has only ever cried like this twice: once when he thought Melone had died, and the other when they'd gotten married. It's a fifty-fifty shot at whether or not this is good or bad.
"Hey, hey, Ghia, don't cry, please don't cry, I'm sorry," Pesci says right away in an attempt to soothe whatever turmoil is turning inside of his husband. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - to make you upset, just tell me what's wrong, okay?"
He's always been so much better at emotions than Ghiaccio, so much better at just about everything, it seems like. And that'll probably include parenthood, too.
When he can finally breathe enough to speak, Ghiaccio chokes out: "No, it's not your -- your fault, not your fault at all -- fuck, God dammit, it's me, just like it always is." He takes a hiccupping breath, glances up at Pesci for half a second. "I'm pregnant."
And there it is, out in the open, unable to be taken back for any reason now. There's no real reaction for at least thirty seconds afterwards, and Ghiaccio can feel the panic rising in his chest. By now, Ghiaccio's turned his face away, so Ghiaccio can't see Pesci's reaction just yet. He's not sure he wants to, because what if it's bad?
Finally, the crushing silence is broken by Pesci's quiet whisper of: "Really?"
Ghiaccio blinks, a few more tears rolling down his cheeks from the action as he tilts his head up to look at his husband for the first time since he spoke those words. Just like Ghiaccio, Pesci wears all of his emotions on his face, leaving nothing to the imagination. He can see the shock in his eyes, but undeniably...
Undeniably, there's love and happiness there too. And that stops Ghiaccio in his tracks, because it's completely unexpected.
"Y - yeah. Yeah, really." Ghiaccio rasps out, nodding slowly. "I'm - I'm really pregnant. I mean - I mean not really as in - as in far along, I - it's got to be early, that only makes sense after all -" He cuts himself off before he can start nervously rambling and threads a hand through his hair. As soon as his thumb presses against his curls, they spring back just as quickly, and a part of him wonders if their baby will inherit his difficult curls or Pesci's more agreeable hair.
As much as he's tried to stop it, he's already considering their future with this baby. It's becoming more of a reality, something that they'll just be living with in the future, something that seems as natural as married life itself became not long ago.
Pesci, meanwhile, takes Ghiaccio's face in his hands and gently rubs his cheeks with his thumbs. A shaky smile has made its way across his face, and his eyes are bright, shining with unshod tears, but tears of happiness instead of ones of fear or sadness. "Y - you mean - you mean I'm - gonna be a dad?"
Ghiaccio laughs a little. "Obviously. Who else?"
For a moment, a shockwave of fear passes over Pesci's face. "I didn't mean -"
"I know, it's okay, I - you're not like that." Ghiaccio leans into his touch, presses his face further into Pesci's hand. "I know you. I'd like to think I know you pretty well." He sniffs once more, taking off his glasses for a moment so he can rub his eyes. "Fuck. Shit. I feel stupid as hell now."
"Why?" Pesci's face grows concerned again. "Did - you think I'd be upset?"
"It wasn't exactly something we planned for," Ghiaccio mumbles. He can feel all the previous adrenaline that had been coursing through his body earlier leave him all in a rush, and he leans against Pesci's body, eagerly accepting him as he puts his arms around him. "I didn't think you'd - be all that thrilled, I mean - look at us. Look at the life we live." He sighs. "Besides, it's not like parenting is something I'll be that great at."
At that, Pesci frowns, and holds Ghiaccio's face in his hand, cupping it around his cheek. "You don't know that."
"I do know that," Ghiaccio argues. "Since when have I ever been good at anything that requires an emotional link?" He laughs, bitterly, before Pesci presses his forehead to his and gives him a little smile.
"You're good with me," he murmurs. "That's a pretty good start, right?"
Ghiaccio can't help but smile at that. "Yeah... yeah, you've got a point. It's a start, at least."
Shifting his arms, Pesci pulls him in close for a hug, and Ghiaccio returns it, the swirling maelstrom inside of him that is his emotions finally calmed for the time being.
He supposes that his heart is indeed big enough to love both Pesci and their baby, especially since they're practically a piece of him, anyway.
It's going to be alright. Everything's going to be alright, as long as he's here.