Work Text:
Too many things were on Ghiaccio’s mind, all of which got between him and this wonderful day off that should have been, by all accounts, relaxing and stress-relieving if Illuso were to be believed. Then again, Ghiaccio was spending the day with his team, so the chances of any possible forms of relaxation occurring were already cut in half.
As for stress-relieving?
Ghiaccio looked up from his drink to the rest of the table, currently in a heated debate over something so miniscule and stupid that only Formaggio could have brought it up. Something to do with stands again, he was sure of it, but with Ghiaccio’s attention elsewhere, he hadn’t caught enough information to figure it out. Nor did he really care to.
More important things were on Ghiaccio’s mind.
First, Ghiaccio's newest pair of glasses had been shattered during their last mission, (the very same one that the team was celebrating other drinks as the pay day had been unusually high in this current climate they were trapped in) so he was stuck using an older pair with the outdated prescription.
Cue a developing migraine from the strain of his eyes— And no, it didn’t have anything to do with his heated temper!
Second, a strand of hair from Ghiaccio’s bangs kept curling in the wrong direction, completely screwing over any attempts he made to get his hair in the perfect pattern of curls he meticulously put together every morning. Even the expensive hairspray he had swiped from Illuso had done nothing to save him, and while no one commented on the renegade strand of hair, Ghiaccio could feel it brushing against the wrong part of his forehead and it was driving him up a wall.
And while there was a slew of other things he could list off—a blister developing on the back of his left foot, a noticeable tear in his favorite pair of kitty socks that no one will ever dare see as long as they wish to live, and even his breakfast had been burnt to a crisp by Prosciutto’s fancy ass vanity toaster he had bought during their last major windfall—but really, nothing else compared to the last thing on the laundry list of annoyances that came with waking up this morning.
Melone.
Specifically, the fact that Melone had done absolutely nothing to him at all this entire day. No crude jokes, innuendos or backwards phrases. No suggestions to go anywhere suggestive while the team was taking the day to sightsee in Venezia— Which Melone had made sure to call the city by its proper name unlike some half-witted idiots two seats over from him! —One would think that Ghiaccio would find this to be relieved, but it was too God-damn weird, unnatural, and completely one-hundred percent off putting!
Ghiaccio could actually observe Melone physically restraining himself from making a comment in relation to some crude jab Illuso made about Little Feat and in regards to Formaggio’s small dick size that, presumably, Illuso must know all about he’s going around making comments on it! God, the response was right there and Melone said nothing! Instead, the bastard continues to sip his drink quietly despite there being no more liquid in the cup for him to drink! Melone was fooling no one—
Suddenly, the table shook underneath the weight of Formaggio’s fist as he jumped to his feet to shout some obscenities into Illuso’s face and subsequently knocking over Ghiaccio’s own drink all over the remains of his meal.
This was why Ghiaccio couldn’t have nice things.
The whole team turned to face Ghiaccio, bracing for an outburst in the form of Christmas in July, when, unexpectedly, Melone stood up from his chair and walked over to Ghiaccio’s side.
“How about we go on a little perimeter check while these idiots order a replacement meal? I’m sure they have the money to pay for it.”
The suggestion came out of nowhere, but it wasn’t unwelcome in any way, so Ghiaccio found himself nodding along with it as he let his anger fade into the background.
“Fine. But get my order right!” Ghiaccio narrowed his eyes at the two idiots across from him before Melone took his response as permission to grab hold of his arm and drag Ghiaccio outside.
They were supposed to be on some kind of patrol, but Ghiaccio knew better than to fall for that excuse. Especially as they continued to walk in a more or less straight line from the restaurant. Either the perimeter Melone had in mind was going to take up a few city blocks or, more likely, he was up to something...
But before Ghiaccio could figure out what it was, the senior assassin had the both of them turn their first corner, only to halt immediately in their tracks, leaving them overlooking one of Venezia's many views upon the Mediterranean as he then dared to grab both of Ghiaccio's hands as some kind of ploy hold him in place and force him to make eye contact.
"Ghia... I have something I would like to tell you, and if I don't tell you now, I'm afraid I never will." Melone was oddly serious in tone, throwing Ghiaccio off his balance for the next sentence that came out of the purple-haired bastard's mouth.
"Ghiaccio, I care about you and your adorable antics, and I wish to continue experiencing them in a more... intimate matter. I... love you."
THAT WAS WHAT ALL OF MELONE’S ODD BEHAVIOR HAD BEEN LEADING UP TO!?
A FUCKING LOVE CONFESSION!?
Ghiaccio's brain would have crashed and burned on the spot if it possessed the means to do so. But it didn't, so all the young man could do was stutter and force those metaphorical wheels people keep alluding to, about to turn and think of a response. In a gasp of air, Ghiaccio could only voice his utter disbelief at hearing words he had only dreamed about for quite some time.
He then exclaimed the worst response ever crafted, directed more at himself for not being able to even string together the proper words to respond to this confession.
"Oh, fuck me!"
God-damn it! What the hell was that!?
Ghiaccio's glasses blended into his now crimson face, cursing at himself for fucking up his one chance to relay his own feelings back to Melone. Ones that he’d kept close to his chest for far too long in hopes that they were simply a passing crush—Never would Ghiaccio have dreamed of being the first to confess and potentially be denied, but here Melone was doing the exact same thing with so much passion and of course, this was Ghiaccio’s chance and he blew it!
However, in reaction to what could only be taken as an insult, Melone shoved Ghiaccio against the wall of the building behind him with an unsettling smirk on his face.
"Well, if you insist..."
Ghaccio blinked.
Then Ghiaccio blinked again, this time positive that he wasn’t dreaming.
Ok, maybe Ghiaccio didn't blow his chance just yet...