Chapter Text
Giorno didn’t often think much of his visits to Fugo, much less Fugo’s visits to him. They had become fast friends in less time than either of them had anticipated, but Giorno was grateful for it. It wasn’t often he found someone so easy to talk to. (Before Fugo, had he ever?)
So it had caught him completely off guard when Sheila E had started talking to him about them, assuming they were on the same page.
Giorno was on lunch break, reading a newspaper just to see if there was any news about Passione. Customer feedback, in a sense. It wasn’t out in the open for anybody to just read about, though-- it was between the lines, in the way the behavior of a prey species indicated the presence of a predator.
After a couple segments with not much to show, he’d put the newspaper down and taken a sip from his wineglass. (The contents were actually just white grape juice; he rather despised the taste of alcohol. Plus, it would be a bad look to be drunk on the job.) It was then that Sheila E had spoken. “So, when’s your next date with Fugo?”
He dropped the wineglass. It tipped over and broke against the floor.
Giorno whipped around, nearly smacking himself in the face with his braid. “What did you just call them?!”
“...” She stared. “Dates? I thought you were, you know, a thing. Already.”
Giorno couldn’t even say anything to that. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He couldn’t tell if he was pale or red-faced. Him? A thing with Fugo? He wasn’t even on a first-name basis with him yet!
But even still…
Giorno hadn’t been lying any of the times he’d sung Fugo’s praises. He’d really wanted him there next to him. Hell, he’d even said he needed ‘friends’ to help him achieve his dream when they’d first reunited! And… even the things he hadn’t said. He felt at peace next to Fugo, something he hadn’t even thought was possible. He had liked the mafioso that had saved him when he was a boy, and considered him a friend, but he had never really felt at peace around him. There was always an unspoken tension between the two of them, a feeling that the man could abandon him at any point. (It had happened, of course. Giorno hadn’t expected to hang off his coattails forever.)
With Fugo… There was none of that. He didn’t spend every minute with Fugo expecting him to leave. It just wasn’t something Giorno thought he would do. He felt at ease simply being there, next to him.
Was that love?
“Um… Giorno?” He snapped back to reality. Sheila E was giving him a strange look. “Are you alright?”
“...” He looked at her, hands in his lap. Was he alright? He’d never thought about it before… This was a lot, all at once. He was no stranger to being put on the spot, but about something so personal? He needed time .
Apparently, Sheila E wasn’t providing. “Shit, I broke the boss…” She ran off, silent as ever. Giorno didn’t watch her go. Him… and Fugo? Did Fugo even like him back? Would he? He put his head in his hands.
Sheila E found him still that way, Coco Jumbo and Polnareff in tow. “Giorno?” she called out.
“What?” He’d give a more polite answer if he wasn’t busy stewing in his emotions.
“Good, you’re talking.” She sighed. “I’ll ask again. Are you fucking okay?”
“I don’t know, ” he answered. “You’re making me consider something I didn’t even know was a possibility.”
“Are you serious?” Polnareff gestured for Sheila E to set Coco Jumbo down. She did, right in front of Giorno. “You’re this shaken over your bodyguard suggesting you date someone?”
“That’s not it!” He was sweating. A lot. He wiped at it. “She thought me and Fugo… She said she thought we were already… you know… a couple.”
“Ah!” He grinned. Giorno didn’t like it one bit. “I guess it’s not a hard leap of logic to make. What are you supposed to think when your friends are spending hours alone together and not saying anything about it?”
“They’re not my friends,” Sheila E said. Giorno, to his own surprise, felt a little disappointed. “They’re just… people I work with.”
“I consider you a friend,” Giorno said without thinking. They both stared at him.. “That is… to say… I wouldn’t want to be without you.”
Oh, Sheila E looked petrified. “Can we please get back to his issues?”
“Fine, fine,” Polnareff sighed. “We’ll talk about you later.” Then he looked back up at Giorno, who had to fight the urge to groan in agony. “So, am I getting this right? Sheila E told you she thought you were already Fugo’s boyfriend and asked when your next ‘date’ would be, and it, in her words, ‘broke’ you. Anything you’d like to add?”
“That’s about right,” he said. It took a lot of effort to keep it above a whisper. “The worst part is that I don’t even know how to feel about it.”
“Well, do you like him?”
“I don’t know.” His head was going back into his hands. “I don’t know how I feel towards Fugo.”
Polnareff slaps Coco Jumbo’s shell. “Not like that! Just tell me if you like him. If you enjoy being around him.”
“Of course I do. He’s my friend.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Giorno doubted them. “I mean… I think.”
“You think.” Sheila E smiled. “Don’t worry, Giorno. He likes you plenty.”
“How do you know that?” Giorno glared at her. He felt raw and exposed, like an electrical wire stripped of rubber. And Sheila E was just poking him with a paperclip about it. “Have you given him a crisis, too?”
“Don’t need to. It’s written all over his face.”
Giorno stared, feeling rather stupid. Moreso when he realized what she was talking about. Whenever he didn’t know Giorno was around, Fugo would act like… well, himself. When he did… he was always a little clumsier. A strange look appeared on his face when they met eyes. Time seemed to move at double speed and half speed simultaneously for him.
Yeah. He liked Giorno plenty.
“Aw, look at you!” Polnareff was grinning. “You’re all flushed! I remember my first love. He used to make me feel the way you look now. He could tell a story that made you want to fall over and get up at the same time. And his sense of humor was something else entirely.” He sighs, resting his face on a hand. “I still dream about him.”
Giorno covered his cheek with his hand. “It sounds like you’re still in love.”
“No doubt about it. Sometimes I think of crossing over just to be with him again.” Now he was beginning to look forlorn. “More often than I’d like to admit, in fact.”
“Well…” Giorno tried to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.
“It’s no matter. He wanted me to keep living, so I’ll do that. Even in death.” Polnareff gave Giorno a winning smile, ignoring the fact that Giorno was not won over.
“So.” Sheila E interrupted them. “When should I make reservations?”
Giorno was going to kill Sheila E. She’d ignored his protests to the contrary and simply gone ahead with reserving a date for the both of them at the nearest coffee shop. It was the one he’d met with Trish at, and she’d mentioned frequenting it-- in fact, she was the one that had made plans. Maybe she’d be around to see Giorno and Fugo humiliate themselves.
Her and Sheila E both.
He sat in his office now, trying and failing to read some-or-other letter from a business owner that claimed to be having problems of some sort with the way he was doing things. He couldn’t focus. Maybe if Sheila E had just encouraged them to spend more time together in private, he wouldn’t be so distracted.
Trish and Sheila E both.
He put down his pen. No way. He wouldn’t do that to her. She had said herself that she didn’t want to be interested in a relationship. She’d probably refuse to talk to Trish entirely.
But then again, Sheila E had gone ahead and taken him out of his comfort zone without asking. He considered himself fair, but how much harm would it do to do this out of spite just this once?
He sat pondering, then came to a decision. He pulled up the phone beside his desk and dialed Trish Una’s number. It was worth a shot, for both him and her.