Work Text:
“Passione Pizza Parlor, we’re open until 9.”
“Duh, I know that. I work there.”
Fugo furrowed his brow at the sound of Narancia’s voice on the other end of the phone. He’d left nearly 30 minutes ago to take care of a delivery, so he should have been on the way back to the restaurant. “Why are you calling?”
“So, uh… I’m lost.”
“You’re lost?”
“I literally just said that!”
“How can you be lost!? We looked at the map together before you left!”
“I know! And I swear I was paying attention!”
“Who is that?” Bruno asked, approaching Fugo with a commanding look.
Fugo put his hand over the receiver to speak to his boss. “It’s Narancia. He got lost out on a delivery.”
Bruno frowned. “Did he make the delivery in time?”
“Did you deliver the food on time?” Fugo asked into the phone.
“Of course I did! I made it to the house in record time.”
“He did,” Fugo quietly relayed to his boss. “If you made it to the house without any problems, then how did you get lost?”
“I got confused trying to reverse the directions in my brain!”
What brain, Fugo wanted to ask.
Instead, he let out a frustrated little huff. “Where are you right now?”
“I don’t know, Fugo. I’m lost.”
“Give me some landmarks.”
“Uh… I’m in a grocery store parking lot.”
“Which grocery store?”
There was a brief pause. Narancia must have been looking around for a sign. “Stardust Mart.”
“Stardust Mart!?”
“Oh my God, stop repeating shit back at me!”
“Narancia, that’s the opposite direction of the neighborhood you were in for your delivery!”
“I told you, I got confused!”
Bruno, who had been standing by all the while, chimed in, “Go get him. It’s slow right now, and Prosciutto’s going to be closing with us tonight. We’re covered.”
Fugo took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “Stay where you are. I’m going to come get you.”
“But-”
“Bruno said it’s fine. Just stay put. Do I make myself clear?”
He half-expected Narancia to growl back some kind of complaint, but instead, he simply whispered, “Ok.”
Fugo sighed as he hung the phone back on the wall. He hated being so hard on Narancia, he really did. He especially hated pushing Narancia to his breaking point. Fugo was no stranger to the occasional bout of self-loathing, but it broke his heart to hear Narancia using such a defeated tone himself. Maybe he could apologize once this was all over…
Narancia was quick to turn down the volume of his music as soon as he saw Fugo pulling into the parking lot. He was already going to be lectured about his trouble with directions. The last thing he needed was for Fugo to bitch at him about his music too.
His purple sedan was shined to perfection, with shades of the orange and pink sunset reflected from its waxed surface. Just looking at it made Narancia wonder why the hell someone with money like Fugo worked at a pizza joint. He’d told Narancia one time that it had something to do with his parents—to prove that he could work a “normal job” despite growing up in the lap of luxury. It was good for making some spending money while he was in college and giving him credible work experience.
All Narancia knew was that, if he had Fugo’s kind of money, he wouldn’t be bothering with school, let alone working.
But, at the same time, Narancia owed so much to that rebellious side of Fugo. If Fugo hadn’t found him digging around in Triple P’s dumpster for food one night a while back, then he wouldn’t have brought him inside and cooked him a free pizza, even though the restaurant was already closed. If he hadn’t done that, then Bruno wouldn’t have gotten involved and opened both his home and business to Narancia. If that hadn’t happened, then Narancia wouldn’t have met all of the awesome people of Triple P and made friends with Fugo and Mista and Giorno and everyone else.
So basically, without Fugo, Narancia would probably be dead. It was hard to stay mad at him with that in mind.
But God, that man could be a pain in the ass sometimes.
Case in point, Fugo proceeded to drive past Narancia’s beat-up car (which Bruno had very graciously helped him obtain) before dramatically circling around and pulling in front of him. It was almost like he was saying, “This is the car you need to follow, idiot.” As if Narancia didn’t already know that.
He even honked at him for good measure. Fucking dick.
Narancia rolled his eyes and put his car in drive, but not before cranking his music back up.
Yeah, Fugo was a pain in the ass sometimes. Well, a lot of the time. But he could be pretty nice too. Not only had he fed Narancia that fateful night, he’d also helped train him at work, and he was always there to patch him up any time he got a cut or a burn or any other kitchen injury. And, as he’d said on the phone a little while ago, he’d even taken the time to run through Narancia’s delivery route with him before he left.
And even when he did act like a jerk, he’d usually apologize for whatever he’d done, and he always sounded like he meant it. Narancia knew he meant well most of the time. They both just had this uncanny knack for getting under each other’s skin.
Fugo was cute too, Narancia had learned. He had this unusual elegance about him, from the way that his long, slender fingers carefully placed toppings on pizzas to his oddly perfect posture. That’s how he’d found out about Fugo’s family’s wealth. Then there was his long, strawberry blond hair, his striking violet eyes, and his lips, which were often pressed in a thin line, either due to concentration or irritation, but occasionally drew into a smirk when Narancia was around.
Yeah, ok, Fugo wasn’t just cute. He was hot.
Narancia wanted to know more about him. He knew his parents were rich and he knew he was going to school to study law, but that was basically it. Well, outside of Passione, at least. He knew a lot about his work habits, but he wanted to know about him. What kind of music did he like? Did he have any hobbies? Why did he want to be a lawyer of all things?
What did his lips taste like? Narancia felt himself beginning to salivate at the thought.
The problem was that, much like with real directions, Narancia was kind of lost as far as knowing what to say to Fugo about his feelings. He’d tried watching Mista, his notoriously romantic friend, to get some ideas for how to properly flirt, but Narancia could only stomach so many sweet nothings on any given day. He’d tried paying attention to Melone’s brand of flirting, too, but that guy was an HR nightmare just waiting to happen. That wasn’t Narancia’s style at all. At least, he didn’t think it would be. Narancia didn’t really have a style when it came to romance.
He let out a little sigh as he pulled into Triple P’s parking lot behind Fugo. As much as he wanted to tell him how he felt, he supposed he’d just have to wait for the right time. But who knew when that would be? And what would he do if Fugo didn’t feel the same? Fugo had said that Narancia was cute one time when he was arguing with Mista. Not in an attractive way, more in a little kid kind of way, which was total bullshit since Narancia was a good year and a half older than him.
But still, Fugo calling him cute had to count for something, right?
The sun was pretty much below the horizon when Narancia put his car in park and got out. Summertime was nice because the sun set so late. It made the days feel longer, but in a good way. He couldn’t help but smile at the handful of twinkling stars that were already visible against the deep purple sky.
The same color as Fugo’s eyes.
Speaking of Fugo, Narancia might not have known how to express his feelings for him, but he did know one thing he needed to say to him.
Fugo had his hand on the restaurant’s front door handle as Narancia ran to catch up with him. “Fugo, wait!”
As instructed, he paused, giving Narancia an unreadable look.
Narancia bit his lip and looked at his feet. “I’m sorry. About you having to come get me and stuff.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Narancia’s head shot up and saw that Fugo was looking him directly in the eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you over the directions. That’s something that you struggle with. I should have helped you go over the return route.”
Narancia let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. At least he wasn’t mad at him. “Thanks for coming to find me. I’d be lost without you.” He paused to grin. “Get it? Because I got lost tonight.”
“Yeah. I get it.”
For some reason, Fugo didn’t make any further moves to open the door. He was just standing there, staring at Narancia with those pretty dusky eyes. It was almost like he was waiting for Narancia to say something else.
If Narancia hadn’t just been thinking about finding the right time to make his feelings known, the thought might not have crossed his mind. But if right now, with this hot guy staring at him expectantly beneath the stars on a warm summer night, wasn’t the right time, then there would never be a right time. He still wasn’t sure what he’d say, but maybe he could wing it.
“But I’d also be lost, like, as a person without you,” Narancia whispered, his voice trembling. “You saved my fuckin’ life.”
Fugo’s fingers uncurled from around the door handle and his arm dropped to his side. Then, slowly, he took a few steps away from the door toward Narancia. “I-”
There was no time for chatting. Whatever Fugo had to say might cause Narancia to lose his nerve.
It was now or never.
Driven by some combination of adrenaline and instinct, Narancia quickly closed what little distance was left between them. He then placed one hand on Fugo’s cheek, closed his eyes, and rose onto his tiptoes to press their lips together.
But, as luck would have it, that was about the time Narancia’s brain started to catch up with his body, and he realized that Fugo wasn’t moving. He wasn’t trying to pull away from him, but he wasn’t reciprocating the kiss either.
Narancia immediately let go and let his heels slam back down onto the concrete sidewalk. Fugo was still staring at him, but it wasn’t the weird, indiscernible expression from before. Now his eyes were wide, and his mouth was open, but no words were coming out. He looked stunned.
This was a mistake.
“I’m so sorry,” Narancia said, the sentence coming out more like a single word. He immediately turned around and took off for his car. There was no way he could be around Fugo for the rest of the night.
Narancia slowly peered out the kitchen door at the checkout counter. After last night, he’d been tempted to see if somebody else would cover his shift for today. Fugo was also scheduled to work this afternoon, and Narancia really wasn’t ready to see him just yet. But, he also needed the money, and he’d have to face Fugo sooner or later.
He definitely hoped it would be later.
He finally stepped out of the kitchen and walked over to where Abbacchio was standing behind the register, his fingers drumming on the counter mindlessly. “H-Hey, Abba.”
Abbacchio side-eyed him, but said nothing.
Narancia began wringing his fingers anxiously. “So, uh, has anyone called?”
“It’s a Saturday. Of course people have called.”
“No, I mean, like, have any workers called? Like, I dunno… Fugo?”
Abbacchio narrowed his eyes. “Why would Fugo call?”
“I dunno.” Narancia tried to play it cool by shrugging. “He might call out of his shift.”
Of course, that didn’t fool Abbacchio. “Cut the crap. What’s going on?”
“Nothing! I was just curious.”
Another voice suddenly boomed from behind Narancia, causing him to flinch. “Narancia!”
With a forced smile, Narancia slowly turned around to face Bruno, who looked, unsurprisingly, angry.
“Care to explain to me why you left early last night?”
“I… um… I wasn’t feeling good.” That wasn’t a lie. Narancia hadn’t felt good at all last night.
“You were fine before you left for that delivery. Did something happen between you and Fugo?”
Abbacchio crossed his arms over his chest. “He was just asking me if Fugo called out of his shift for today.”
Bruno sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Frankly, I don’t care if the two of you got into an argument or anything else. You should have asked if it was ok for you to leave early before just doing it.” Narancia was about to apologize, but then Bruno added, “Last night it worked out because Prosciutto was already here to help with closing, but I don’t want there to be a next time. Understood?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Just then, the restaurant’s front door opened, and Narancia turned just in time to see Fugo walking in. He was wearing his uniform, which meant he was planning to work.
“Shit!” Narancia hissed as he ducked down behind the counter.
“Must’ve been a pretty bad fight if he’s hiding from him,” Abbacchio remarked.
Bruno turned to go back into the kitchen with a huff. “Get off the floor and get back to work.”
“You two can kiss and make up later,” Abbacchio grumbled dismissively.
The phrasing made Narancia’s stomach turn.
As he stood up, Narancia got a look at Fugo’s face. He didn’t seem angry, so that was a good sign. He didn’t look shocked like he had last night either. If anything, he looked like nothing had ever happened. In a way, that almost made Narancia feel worse.
“Where does Bruno want me?” Fugo casually asked Abbacchio once he made it to the counter.
“Probably kitchen for now. Dinner rush will be here before you know it.”
With a little nod, Fugo strolled on by.
And that was how the next thirty minutes passed. Fugo quietly went about his work, and Narancia did his best to keep his distance. If Fugo was mad about what happened, he didn’t let it show.
Narancia was just about to start washing dishes when Fugo seemingly appeared out of nowhere by his side. “Could you help me with the trash? There are two bags.”
He cautiously nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
Narancia followed Fugo to the back door, picking up one of the large trash bags as he went, and stepped outside into the alley. The sun was blaring down, but the angle that it was hitting the building at put the dumpster in the shade.
Fugo hoisted his bag inside with ease, and Narancia followed suit. It seemed that their task was complete. But they were also alone for the moment. Maybe now would be a good time to say something.
As Fugo turned to head back inside, Narancia called out, “Hey, Fugo?
His friend faced him again, his expression once again stoic.
Narancia swallowed thickly. “So… we good? Y’know, after last night?”
To his surprise, Fugo gave a little nod. “Yeah. We’re good.”
Well, that was a relief, Narancia thought. And it wasn’t nearly as painful as he thought it would be.
But then Fugo started walking back toward him, and Narancia felt his heart starting to race. He was ready to brace himself for a punch or a kick or whatever. Maybe his punishment would be even worse since Fugo was acting so weirdly calm.
Instead, he grabbed the front of Narancia’s shirt and shoved him back against the wall opposite of Triple P, which caused the visor of Narancia’s backwards-worn hat to bump into the bricks and fall off of his head. Before Narancia could even think to say or do anything, Fugo’s lips were against his.
Oh. Oh, this was much better than getting punched.
The kiss didn’t last very long, a bit longer than the one the night before. When Fugo pulled back, he was grinning. “What I was trying to say last night before you interrupted me was that you saved me too, in a way. I’ve never had a friend like you before.”
Narancia could feel a smile of his own tugging at his lips, but his was much wider and more overjoyed than Fugo’s.
Fugo leaned in for another quick kiss. “So, yes. We’re good. But we’re even better now.”