Work Text:
Abbacchio, rifling through his childhood bedroom, had his thoughts cut off by Fugo’s voice: “Hey. Still want this?”
The blond emerged from his closet holding a well-loved leather jacket.
Leone shrugged, trying to play it cool, despite the memories of sneaking out, concerts, and clubbing barreling over him. “It’s too small. You try it.”
“You sure?”
Abbacchio nodded, watching as Fugo put it on. Pannacotta sized himself up in the mirror.
“...Needs some eyeliner and black lipstick.”
“No way in hell.” Despite the protest, it was clear; he wanted the jacket. “But, can I…?”
“Keep it? Of course.” Leone smiled.