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Where the hell could he have possibly ran off to? Prosciutto thought, lighting his fourth cigarette that day. It’s no rarity that Risotto Nero would suddenly be off doing only-god-knows-what. Being the leader of Italy’s most fierce hitman group, it’s no surprise that he tends to have a lot on his plate as the boss assigns him boat load after boat load of missions and tasks.
The blonde laid in his bed, he didn’t know how long he waited for him to finish; possibly hours. He’s surprised he didn’t keel over from boredom already. As he placed his finished cigarette into the ashtray, he thought that maybe he should check up on him. He must be finished at this point. Right? Or possibly out and about again, only one can tell.
He leaves his room, making his way down the narrow hall to Risotto’s office, slowly cracking the door open to peer.
There Risotto sat, or rather, slept; slumped up against his desk. Oh, of course.
Prosciutto sighed out of his nose. Risotto’s hat had slipped off ages ago, leaving his unkempt silver hair exposed. Several documents and papers crumpled beneath his folded arms, the battery of his desk laptop had long since died out. It had become quite the occurrence lately that Risotto would be found overworking himself until exhaustion got the better of him. He should have known this would happen, dammit. He made his way up to the passed out leader, placing his hand on his shoulder and shaking it once.
“Oi.” Prosciutto whispered. No response.
“Risotto.” He shakes again, more frantic. This time, Risotto slowly craned his neck as he groaned lowly. He glared with wide red eyes up at the blonde as if he saw a ghost, only for his vision to properly adjust, now recognising the man looming over him.
“Oh, it’s you.” Risotto murmured sleepily. His voice sounded gravely, as if he hadn’t drunk water in several hours; which he probably hasn’t.
Prosciutto tsked, “You fell asleep at your desk again.”
Risotto rubbed his sore neck as he yawned, “Mhn…have I now.” He had no clue how long he had been out for, but judging from how there was nothing but pitch darkness outside the office window, he assumed a while.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Prosciutto sounded annoyed, but Risotto knew the words came from genuine concern.
“It’s my job isn't it?” Risotto muttered as he stacked the document papers and slid them into a manila folder.
“That’s not an excuse to tire yourself!”
“I’d hate to fall behind on work though..”
The blonde rolled his eyes, “Come on get up, you’ve worked long enough.” He attempted to pull the larger man up by the arm, but to no avail. Risotto let out a groan of protest as he tried again, “Don’t expect me to drag you back to bed.”
A low chuckle escaped Risotto’s throat, “You couldn’t even if you wanted to.” The corners of his lip curved in amusement.
“Ugh, you’re hopeless!” Prosciutto sighed dramatically, letting go of his arm and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just…get up when you can, I’ll run you a bath.”
“Ah..” Risotto looked back, already seeing Prosciutto leave his office and presumably head to the bathroom, “Thank you.” he said, even if Prosciutto was already gone. Risotto looked back at his desk, papers and other documents still covered its surface. He supposed he should tidy up before thinking about relaxing.
***
When La Squadra Esecuzioni is stuck in a stasis of perpetual fear inflicted by their own boss of Passione, it’s difficult for its members to find time for themselves to relieve stress like any other regular citizen would. To be in such a position where even the mildest amount of dissatisfaction is met with a blow twice as hard, well, it’s humiliating. Risotto Nero has carried the burden of making sure that, as their leader, the rest of the team don’t suffer from such a cruel system. He had already lost two members to a punishment so grotesque, Risotto could feel the mockery from whomever committed such a heinous act. It made him sick to his stomach, he couldn’t let another member go out the same way.
Risotto was in his own mind about the dangerous nature of his job, even if his body submerged in warm water; curled up in a tub while thin hands worked to relieve muscle tension in his shoulders. It’s pleasant; he is eternally grateful for when Prosciutto takes care of him for a change, he just wished it could distract him from his clouded head even more. Prosciutto himself wasn’t all that satisfied with how things were as well, mumbling something about their pay being more laughably cheap by the day. Risotto nods along, but doesn’t say a word; just the occasional murmured agreement or sigh of relief as Prosciutto rubs a sore spot in his neck.
Risotto wanted to ask Prosciutto how long he was willing to put up with this job, if it is even worth it to always be under the watchful eye of Passione just to barely make it through the day with nothing but a small sum of money to their name. Where would they even go if they decide to leave?
Everything becomes a blur once thoughts of dread cloud Risotto’s mind, he didn’t even realise until now that he had stepped out of the tub with the help of Prosciutto. The frigid air hitting his body must have snapped him back into reality.
“I guess you must really be tired. You’ve barely said a word to me this whole time.” Prosciutto said as he handed Risotto a towel.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Risotto wrapped the towel around his waist so he wasn’t completely nude in front of his subordinate.
“Don’t be, it’s understandable.” Prosciutto’s usual harsh tone has dissolved from his voice. Risotto couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of pity within those indigo eyes. “I will meet you in my room in a moment.” And just like that, Prosciutto is off again doing only god knows what.
Risotto huffed in amusement. He feels so lucky being able to see this caring side of Prosciutto, which is a stark contrast to how he acts in the daytime. By all means he isn’t heartless, not at all, he just presents himself as this serious straight-forward subordinate. Even when he’s seen scolding Pesci about another failed assassination, Risotto can tell he isn’t doing it out of hatred. There is always care under that stoic (and handsome) mug of his, and that’s one of the many things Risotto just adores about him.
All fueling his nagging dread at the thought of abandoning everything.
.
Once Risotto dried himself off and changed into one of his sleep shirts and sweat pants, he made his way to Prosciutto’s room. The rest of the team was presumably asleep, or away in their own hideouts, so he made sure not to make a sound while going down the hall. He eventually makes it to Prosciutto’s room, picking a spot on his double bed to lay on. The satin sheets feel so velvety on Risotto’s skin, Prosciutto must have spent more on these sheets than he does on food. He couldn’t help but sink his head into the plush pillows, encased in the same material. He could almost fall asleep right there and then.
Not long after, Prosciutto finally comes into the room, closing the door shut with his foot, “Already comfortable?” he spoke, setting a tray on the night stand. On it sits two mugs, steam rising up from both. Prosciutto slips himself into bed as well, he had since changed out of his usual pristine attire and into a navy blue bath robe; his gold silky hair untied and left to flow down his shoulders.
Risotto sits up a little once the blonde gingerly hands him the mug, blowing on the boiling liquid a few times before taking a sip. Oolong, his favourite.
“I hope that this all makes you feel better.” Prosciutto muttered, scooting over a little to be shoulder to shoulder.
“It’s more than enough, thank you.” Risotto leaned into the warmth that Prosciutto’s body gave off.
Prosciutto couldn’t help but smile down at him, leaning down to place a kiss on his forehead. “I’m glad.”
For a while no words were exchanged; only the comfortable silence as Risotto slowly sipped his tea, resting his head on the blonde’s chest. The small room lit only by a single bed side lamp, the faint smell of herbal teas and cheap cigarettes lingered in the air. All the stress and exhaustion from Risotto seemingly washed away, replaced with a sort of…comfortable numbness he couldn’t describe. Try as he might, he couldn't fall asleep. He looks over to see Prosciutto reading one of his books, he can’t quite make out the title with half lidded eyes. Risotto was so, so drained from the week's work and just wishes to do nothing but fall asleep in the arms of the man he loves.
And yet…
“Prosciutto..?” he whispers.
The blonde looked down, in surprise, “Good God you startled me, I thought you were asleep.”
Risotto laughs ghostly, “Sorry.” He placed his mug on the table, the remaining tea had since turned cold.
“It’s okay. So, what’s up?” Prosciutto places his book page down on the night stand, cradling Risotto’s head in his arms.
“Before…joining the team, were you planning to do anything at all in life?”
“I…” Prosciutto looks around, trying to find the words. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I had any big plans really. Probably just work a simple job, find a nice partner, and settle down somewhere on the coast of Florence.” He looks back down at the taller man, his hand nested in his silver hair, “Why? Where’s all this suddenly coming from?”
Risotto exhaled, “Well…I was just thinking, being on an assassination team isn’t really a ‘simple job’, is it?”
“Not exactly, no.” Prosciutto mused.
“I’m just…is it even worth it to kill people for barely any money at all.”
“I mean, we don’t really have a choice.”
“You wish you were doing something else, yes?”
“Sort of, yes. Come on, what is this about?”
“I’m just…” he swallowed a lump in his throat, “Soon enough I don’t think I will have the strength to keep leading anymore.”
Prosciutto was silent for a while. Risotto could feel his heart cease up. “...What makes you say that, Risotto?”
“I-…” Suddenly, his face is pressed into the blonde’s chest
“Risotto?” Prosciutto pulled up his head, only to see his face damp with tears.
“Oh...”
He pulled him closer, letting him silently sob against his shoulder for a while. His hand never leaving those white strands.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please…don’t apologise, don’t ever feel sorry.” Prosciutto felt a painful sting in his chest as he held him tight, he could feel his own eyes starting to well up. Prosciutto had never seen his leader in such a vulnerable state before; he knew well enough that he had a softer side, but never once was it ever like this. The man whom his subordinates would describe as ‘having a face made of iron’, was openly weeping in his arms.
Eventually, Risotto calms down; breathing more ragged but slower. He wipes his damp face, sniffling still.
“Feeling better?”
“Mh..” He nods.
“...Do you need me to get you anything?”
“No, I just need you here.” Risotto’s voice sounded heavier.
“Of course..” He pecks the top of the taller man’s head, “You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t-”
“No no, I have to get this off of my chest.” Risotto cleared his throat, still feeling a little gravely. “I’m…cornered for the rest of the team.” He starts, “Ever since Sorbet and Gelato’s deaths, I couldn’t help but worry about the psychological damage it has inflicted on them. Ghiaccio and Illuso have isolated themselves more and more, Melone had become less enthusiastic as of late even when using his Stand, and bless Formaggio he was the one who discovered the body first; I cannot begin to fathom how distraught he must be feeling.”
Prosciutto takes this all in, wordlessly.
“I feel like I’ve failed the team, I should have stopped Sorbet and Gelato from pursuing the boss. The fault is mine, all because I was too much of a coward to prevent it.”
“Risotto..” Prosciutto lifts up his head, turning it slightly so he can look at him in the eye. “You shouldn’t feel so responsible for something out of your control. None of us could have predicted that, don’t shift the blame onto yourself.”
“I know but-“ Risotto tilts his head down, letting out a deep sigh, “I can’t afford to lose anybody else.”
Prosciutto frowns, that look of pity in his eyes returns. “I know, I know. We…will just have to lay low for a while, I’m afraid.”
Silence fills the room again, both assassins lay together, deep in their own separate thoughts. The pad of Prosciutto’s thumb rubs small slow circles into Risotto’s cheek.
“Do you think I’m a good leader, Prosciutto?”
“What kind of question is that?” The blonde snickers, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m serious.”
“Ah…well obviously I think you’re the strongest, most intelligent, and most daring assassin in all of Italy. And I’m not saying that just to be nice.”
“Does the rest of the team also think that?”
“What do you mean?”
“I fear that soon they will think less of me. What if they don’t consider me their leader anymore?”
“That’s not true at all. The whole team admires and respects you, ever since you took them under your wing; myself included. If it weren’t for you I’d be stuck in that crappy house until I drop dead.”
Risotto huffs, there is finally a hint of a smile ever since he got into bed.
Prosciutto sits up, the larger man’s head now cradled in his lap, “Everybody looks up to you, Risotto; they’d hate to see their leader doubt himself so much. All my life I’ve never met a man so determined at what he does, never once have you failed an assassination. Even if it seems we’ve hit rock bottom, you are still able to pull through; lecturing the team to lift their spirits. You never once gave up on them, and I sure as hell won't give up on you. So don’t you dare change your mind now.”
Risotto looks up wordlessly at Prosciutto, all before he suddenly shoots up to tackle the blonde into a bone-crushing hug.
“Ris-!” He wheezed, “I- can’t breathe!”
Risotto doesn’t listen, he squeezes him tighter as he peppers kisses all over his cheek and neck, “Fuck, I love you so, so much,” he whispers against his skin, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Yeah that’s nice now will you quit suffocating me-!” The blonde manages to get out. He’s eventually released from Risotto’s grasp, the larger man now looming over him. “I love you too, amore.” He cups Risotto’s face to bring him down for a slow, sweet kiss. They kiss until they couldn’t anymore, Prosciutto gasps against the side of Risotto’s lips as his hands wander around his muscular back. Risotto collapses to the side, nuzzling his face against the blonde’s collar bone as he tugs him closer by the waist.
“I think we should sleep now.” Risotto murmured.
“Ugh, finally.” Prosciutto scoffs, earning a rare laugh from the larger man. He pulls the sheets over the both of them, reaching over to turn off the bed side lamp. The only source of light now came from a small crack in the window blinds, as the street lamps illuminated the room ever so slightly.
“Sleep when you can.” Prosciutto gives him one final peck on the forehead, wrapping his arms around Risotto’s back.
“One more thing..”
“Hm?” Prosciutto shifts his head down.
“If we ever do retire, I wouldn’t mind settling down on the coast of Florence with you.”
Prosciutto lays there in stunned silence once again, his heart swelling with warmth. “Someday…”