Work Text:
Giorno bit at the end of his pen while he scanned the document he was looking over. Being the Don of a mafia is hard work but so far Giorno had breezed (with a few bumps though those are ignored) through his new job. His first job, actually, since he’d only been trying to make his way through high school a few months ago, stealing from others instead of trying to make an honest income as it was the easiest and most available option. Allowing him to practice with his Stand while gaining money to continue a proper living. Though no matter how much he finds himself enjoying his new job there is one flaw that comes with it. That flaw is that he never actually finished school and with how demanding the job of a leader is he hasn’t had time to go back. So now he sits staring down at the latest document he’s been given to correct, biting his pen in confusion as he stares down at the maths that challenges him.
It’s not that Giorno is particularly bad at the subject. Throughout his time in school, he passed the class with high marks, but that doesn’t mean he understood everything in each course the subject held. One of the things he didn’t understand was percentages. He had somehow managed to avoid having to deal with them for his first few months in this position but it seemed like his current fate was inevitable no matter how much he wanted to pretend it wasn’t. After giving the numbers one last glare for good measure he resigned with a sigh and got up from his chair, leaving his office in search of the only person he could think of to help him with the current dilemma.
“Fugo?”
Giorno had found Fugo sitting in the dining room looking over papers of his own, a furrow between his brows as he scribbled something out before turning to look over at Giorno, beckoning him to come over to the table he sat at.
“What do you want?” He spoke, placing his pen down.
Suddenly, Giorno found it hard to lock eyes with Fugo and felt a rush of embarrassment flushing his face red. Despite the fact being that Fugo worked for him - meaning he should listen to any of Giorno’s requests within reason - the other fact remained that they were friends which made it all the more embarrassing than it had to be.
“Would you be able to... Help me with some maths?” He rushed to whisper the last part but was sure he was heard from the way Fugo eyed him curiously. Giorno avoided his eyes again with an awkward smile and continued.
“I never really grasped the idea of percentages at school so I’m not too sure as to how they should properly be done. I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”
Fugo looked around in consideration for a few moments though his face stayed mostly blank, unreadable. After these moments past he turned the paper he was editing around to a blank side and gestured for Giorno to sit next to him at the table. Once he was sitting Giorno got the perfect view of Fugo’s side profile as he wrote numbers along the page. He studied the way his eyes shone in the harsh afternoon sun the filtered through the large windows, causing Fugo’s eyes to sparkle each time they opened creating a mesmerising effect that left him wanting to sit there all day watching the shine. A different shine from what he had seen when the sun hits the eyes of others, it was softer and delicate in a way that made him want to look after it, to make sure it was properly preserved. It wasn’t until a pen was tapped sharply over his knuckles that he realised he’d been caught staring. Giorno quickly looked down at what was on the page to avoid any more unnecessary eye contact and to hopefully hide the blush that was dusting his cheeks.
“I wasn’t listening…” He admitted shyly, busying himself with trying to understand the work Fugo had written while he daydreamed.
With a sigh, Fugo started writing again under his previous working, looking over at Giorno more often to make sure his attention was fully focused on the paper but despite the nods, Giorno gave whenever Fugo looked over he was far from understanding percentages anymore than before. Instead, he had his full attention on his friend’s voice, savouring the way the sounds in the large room, echoing back to them softly. Though he knew that even without the reverb of the room Fugo’s voice sounded nicer than any he’d heard before.
His voice was never flat, never boring. The cadence of his voice enraptured Giorno, the perfect rise and fall of it was something he could listen to for hours on end and never get bored. He truly believed that Fugo could read the most boring pieces of text and keep his attention longer than any of his favourite hobbies. It was always able to capture his attention sometimes so much to the point it was the only thing he could keep his attention on. Just like now.
Giorno fell out of his daze when Fugo stopped writing and looked up at him. “Do you understand?”
Giorno opened his mouth to reply and let it hang there for a second, not knowing if he should tell the truth and actually learn or lie to save face, quickly coming to his decision Giorno nodded and made to get up.
“I understand now, thank you.” He replied.
Despite Giorno’s reassurance, Fugo didn’t seem fully convinced, staying in his seat and staring up at Giorno before eventually getting up as well.
“I’ll see you later then,” Fugo said and left the room leaving Giorno standing there, watching Fugo walk away.
Quickly, Giorno picked up that paper with the workings on it, maybe he could make sense of it on his own later on. For now, he needed to work out these feelings for his friend.