Among Us in VRChat

Diavolo was busy editing videos, bored out of his mind. Out of nowhere, Formaggio texted him on Discord.

“Get the fuck on VRChat,” the message said.

And so he did. When he got on, Formaggio invited him to his world to a fancy house he’ll never have in real life, a large Tuscan home with a pool, and Diavolo spawned in the living room. Formaggio was there with Melone and some guy he didn’t know. Formaggio’s avatar was David from Cyberpunk Edgerunners, and Melone’s avatar looked like an e-girl. As for the stranger, their avatar was Delphox from Pokemon.

“Hey, Diavolo! You see that guy?” Formaggio spoke to the stranger. “That’s one of my friends. Risotto’s not on, but his friend, Akira, is. I don’t know much about that guy. I know he and Risotto used to be in a band together once, and that’s it. Nothing else. I don’t know if they went to the same school or not. I doubt that because his name sounds Japanese. Anyways, Diavolo, hey! This guy next to me is Narancia.”

“Hey, I met these guys at Femboy Hooters.” He waved at him. “I don’t remember how, but yeah. After that, we played a cooking game.”

“Do I want to know?” Diavolo asked.

“Wait, hold up!” Narancia said before Formaggio could explain. “Your avatar looks like SweetDoppio’s VTuber model.”

“That’s because I am SweetDoppio.”

He gasped. “No way!”

“Yep, that’s him,” Formaggio said. “Anyways, let’s get some people to join us in a group of Among Us. I’m trying to get Risotto and Illuso on. Hey, Narancia, you got any friends?”

“Giorno, Mista, and Fugo. I’m not sure about Bruno and Abbacchio, though.”

“Alright, I’m going to drop a portal to—fuck, Melone, anyone, give me a destination.”

“We could go to Femboy Hooters,” suggested Melone.

“Formaggio, you never told me how you met Narancia there.”

“Oh, right. Give me a second. I have to find that avatar. Melone, do the thing.”

Formaggio changed his avatar to Eggman in a wheelchair, and Melone changed to Eggman but with big boobs and wearing a bikini.

“Ah, my beautiful wife!” Formaggio looked at Melone, who was messing with his massive tits, jiggling everywhere.

“Sorry, I can’t stop playing with them.”

“Oh, that’s who you guys were!” Narancia said.

“You know what? I’m going to drop a portal to Femboy Hooters. Diavolo is missing out on some fun.” Formaggio dropped the portal to where only friends of friends can join. “Come on, guys! Get in the van!”

Diavolo entered the portal, and the place looked like a regular Hooters.

“I don’t see what’s so special about this place,” he commented.

“Well, Melone likes to roleplay a lot here,” Formaggio replied. “It’s special to him.”

“Come on, try roleplaying as a waiter. Please?” Melone asked. “I’m going to roleplay as Eggman’s wife.”

“Do I have to change my avatar?” Diavolo asked.

“Nope,” Melone answered. “Anyways, I’ll have chicken strips with”—he paused dramatically—“the ranch. Teehee!”

“I’m scared,” Narancia commented.

“I’ll have the big mac with no pickles,” Formaggio ordered. “And um…and since this guy is a minor, just give him four chicken nuggets and some apple juice.”

“Yuck! I hate apple juice. I want orange!”

“Sir, this is a Femboy Hooters,” Diavolo reminded him.

“Do I fucking look like I’ve ever stepped into a Hooters?”

“No, you’re in a wheelchair, obviously,” Narancia said.

Melone burst into laughter, and two guys, one with an emo wolf furry as an avatar and the other was a skeleton, showed up.

“Do I want to know what’s going on here?” the furry asked. “Wait, is that SweetDoppio?”

“Hey, Fugo! Yeah, it’s him. Mista, why are you a skeleton?”

“I was playing Russian roulette, and every time I had the gun the fourth time, I died.”

“Where’s Trish and Giorno? They’re on, aren’t they?” Narancia asked.

“Hey, Diavolo, why are you standing there? Get us our order!” demanded Melone.

“Ugh!” He went behind the bar, fetched the food, and returned to them. Two other strangers stood near the group. One person had a Miku Hatsune avatar, and the other one’s avatar was Sonic. Narancia switched his avatar to Knuckles, and Fugo switched to Tails.

“Damn you, Knuckles! Look at what you did to my body!” said Formaggio, roleplaying. “I have to navigate the world through a chair!”

“Hey, Eggman, I have Sonic, and we’ll kick your ass! And Miku will make a song out of it!”

“Guys, our waiter is here!” Melone alerted them. “I see you got my chicken strips, but where’s the ranch? Wink wink.”

Diavolo slowly backed away. “No.”

“Pull down your pants and give me my ranch!”

“No, get your husband to make your ranch for you!”

“Here’s the thing. I’m paralyzed from the waist down. Thanks to a certain echidna.” Formaggio turned to face Narancia, who giggled. “I can’t get it up anymore. Sorry, but you got to pull down your pants.”

“And I’m out!” Diavolo ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet.

“Oh, no! Come here, boy!” Melone chased after him. “I know you’re behind that stall!”

“Go away!” He faked sobbing.

“Wait, are you actually getting uncomfortable? I can stop.”

“Oh, no. I’m just getting into character.”

“Wow, you’re really into this. I’m surprised you’re not streaming this.”

“It’s VRChat. Someone could randomly get on here and start playing music. I’ll get in trouble for that.”

“Oh, right. Hey, Risotto and Pesci are here. Oh my god, you’ve got to see their avatars. It’s so whacky.”

The two got out of the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s with the goose, Risotto?” Diavolo asked.

“I was using this to guide Pesci last night.”

Melone giggled. “And, Pesci, are you Ankha because of a certain video?”

“Video? Are you talking about the trailer? I don’t think Ankha was in the video.”

“Oh, you poor fool, you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Formaggio approached the four. “Hey, Riz, why isn’t Akira with you?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“He blocked you on Twitter.”

“Twitter? What the fuck for?”

Narancia then came over. “I hear yelling here. Did something happen?”

“Formaggio here got blocked by Akira, and he’s not happy. But how did you not remember? Melone, were you there?”

He shook his head.

“Well, Formaggio wanted to join the band, but Akira hasn’t met him. I would let him in my band, but I believe I should have everyone’s approval. Akira blocked him because Formaggio kept DMing and emailing him too much. By the way, he says you sound unprofessional.”

“Excuse me? I’m fucking unprofessional? Why do I need to be professional? Do you sell stocks or something? Hold on. I’m going to give this bitch a piece of my mind. Clearly, he had forgotten to take me off his friends list.”

The others soon joined.

“What’s going on?” Fugo asked.

Formaggio disappeared.

“Is the Among Us thing going to happen?” asked Narancia.

“Not sure, but I think this is funny because Akira is a criminal,” Melone replied.

Narancia looked at Risotto.

“I believe in second chances,” he said.

Formaggio returned. “Alright.” He sounded sad, judging from the sniffing sound at the end. His voice was shaky too. “I’ll drop the portal down.”

They all went in.

“Alright,” Formagio started, “I set it to where there can be two impostors, and everyone can hear us. We can use the emergency meeting thrice, but it has a cooldown of 25 seconds. Does this sound good to everyone?”

Everybody was quiet.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes. Alright, we’re starting!”

Everybody got teleported to the game.

“I’m going to keep an eye on Pesci and Diavolo,” Risotto said. “Last time, it was just the nine of us, and Pesci was the impostor. Then Diavolo hacked the game and killed him.”

Everybody but Pesci looked at Diavolo.

“Is this true?” Narancia asked.

“It’s not,” Pesci answered. “Risotto’s just mad.”

“No, I was there. Diavolo definitely cheated,” Formaggio said. “Melone, you had a recording, right?”

“I did, but I had to stop it once I died. Ghiaccio needed to calm down, so we had sex.”

“That’s too much,” Fugo complained. “Anyways, I’m going to complete my task.”

“Same,” said Giorno.

“Just so you guys know, I didn’t do it!” Diavolo lied. “I would never do that. That could ruin my reputation!” He wasn’t the impostor this time. A shame, though. He was good at it.

“Hey, Narancia, we should stick together,” Mista said.

“Right, I need to go to medbay, and then I have to get the fuel. Hey, Trish, who are you going to group up with?”

“I’ll be with Fugo and Giorno.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” commented Mista.

The three went on their separate ways, leaving Melone, Risotto, and Formaggio with Diavolo and Pesci.

“The three of us can’t keep an eye on them forever. One of us has to go,” Risotto said.

Melone got on Risotto. “Since I call dibs on riding Risotto, Formaggio, go check Mista and Narancia. The two of us can handle them.”

He sighed. “I’m being cucked again.” He turned around and went to MedBay. “Did you guys hear that? I’m watching over you.”

“Pesci, let’s split. I’m not an impostor. I’m not that lucky,” Diavolo said.

“Right. Well, I have a card to swipe.”

“Melone, are you going to follow him?” asked Risotto.

“Nah, if he’s an impostor. He won’t get far. He needs Prosciutto with him.”

“So neither of you aren’t going to do your tasks?” Diavolo questioned. “Suit yourself. Help the impostors.”

He walked to medbay to scan himself with Melone and Risotto following him. Then he went to the reactor.

“I have an idea,” Melone said. He got off Risotto. “I’m going to check the security camera the entire time.”

“What about your tasks?” Diavolo asked.

“You’re obsessed with tasks. Maybe you’re the impostor, but you haven’t killed anyone yet. I’m watching you.” Melone walked to the security room to check the footage.

“I’ll handle Diavolo.” Risotto stared at him.

He had never felt threatened by a goose before and imagined an actual goose standing behind him and breathing down his neck, causing him to chuckle.

“What you laughing at?” Risotto asked.

He laughed even harder, thinking of a goose with Risotto’s voice, his goofy hat, and his mannerisms.

Concerned, Melone approached the two. “What’s going on here?”

“Melone, what’re you doing? Look at the security footage! Someone could be dying right now!”

He returned to the security room. “Strange, I see Formaggio running around with Narancia, but he’s not with Mista. Now I see Trish by herself. I’m going to check on Pesci.”

“Wait, don’t leave me alone with Risotto!” Diavolo said. “He might be an impostor and kill me!”

“Are you faking your tasks, Diavolo?” Risotto asked.

“No! Pesci had a card to swipe. He might still be in admin. I remember Ghiaccio had trouble with that task.”

“Fine, whatever! We’ll all go together,” Melone said. “It’ll take forever to complete our tasks, though.”

When they went in admin, they saw Pesci’s chalk outline.

“Oh, shit!” Melone got close to his body and interacted with it, causing a meeting.

The game teleported everyone alive to the cafeteria. The board on the window displayed everybody’s name, including the dead.

“Two people dead already?” asked Fugo. “Narancia, Formaggio, weren’t you with him?”

“Yeah, but he went off to do another task,” Narancia answered.

“I was in the security room,” Melone informed them. “I saw both of them running down the hall, but Trish wasn’t with her group.”

“This is Trish’s second time playing Among Us in VRChat,” Giorno said. “She told us she had to take samples. Fugo and I kept our eyes on her, so it can’t be her.”

“Giorno, I think the killers might be Narancia and Formaggio,” Fugo said.

“What makes you think that?” Narancia demanded. “You always suspect me as the impostor!”

“Every time I suspect you’re the impostor, I’m right.”

“And how many times have I been the impostor?”

“I didn’t keep track.”

“See? No way am I the impostor. I had my eyes on Formaggio.”

“I’m saying both of you are the impostor. There are two impostors. One of you killed Mista while the other ran to admin to kill Pesci. Melone, did you see them on any other footage?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Are we going to trust Melone?” Diavolo asked. “You weren’t doing your tasks. Maybe you were the one who killed Pesci and Mista.”

“But it’s not me! Did anyone even see where Mista died?” asked Melone. Silence. “No? Come on! I was in security the whole time! I’m innocent!”

“I’m siding with Melone on this,” Risotto spoke. “I know he was in security, and Diavolo, you were laughing out of nowhere. Perhaps you foresaw their deaths.”

“Yeah, it can’t be my wife,” Formaggio added.

“Your wife, Doctor Eggman? The same wife that has been cheating on you?” Diavolo questioned.

“Look, I enjoy getting cucked! You’ll never understand.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I did this?” Diavolo fondled Melone’s balloon tits, causing him to moan lewdly. It sounded like Melone enjoyed this.

“Stop! You don’t know what you’re doing to my wife and me! Don’t you dare rest your tiny little head on her breast!”

Diavolo placed his head on his tits, making them moan.

“Could you guys quit being weird!” Fugo asked. “God, this is uncomfortable. My parents are also in the next room. Narancia, you have some weird friends.”

“So, who are we voting to kick out?” Trish asked. “Time is running out.”

“Oh, we’re going to vote you out,” Formaggio said. “It just makes sense. What were you doing away from your group?”

“Are you serious? Giorno just explained!” Fugo argued.

“Well, I wasn’t convinced. Plus, neither could hear you. For all we know, you or Giorno could be the impostor.”

“Oh my god, you’re worse than Narancia. Giorno, let’s just vote this dumbass out.”

Everyone voted. Trish had three votes, Formaggio had three, and Diavolo and Melone had one. Since Trish and Formaggio were tied, nobody got teleported out.

“I want to change my vote,” Diavolo said, knowing that he couldn’t manipulate the others into voting Melone out.

“Melone, you didn’t vote for Diavolo?” Risotto questioned.

“I think it’s Trish,” he explained. “I saw what I saw on the camera. Right now, she looks sus.”

“Yeah, you know I’m not good at lying,” Formaggio said. “I can’t be the impostor. I know she killed Mista while we weren’t looking.”

“Well, I guess that does make sense. I’ll hit the emergency button.”

Risotto called for an emergency meeting, causing Trish to sigh. Everyone except Fugo and Giorno voted Trish out, causing the game to teleport her outside the map and fall to her death. Trish was not the impostor.

“What?” Melone blurted. “It had to be her. It just made sense!”

“No, Melone, I think you planned this!” Diavolo argued. “You haven’t done your tasks because you’re so focused on the damn security room! Maybe you were trying to protect the impostor. Or perhaps you and Risotto are the impostors, and you snuck out to kill the others while Risotto kept a close eye on me while I did my tasks. And Risotto couldn’t kill me because then everyone would know!”

“No, it can’t be my wife!” Formaggio rolled closer to Melone. “Say it ain’t so!”

“It’s not, my little Discord kitten! Diavolo is manipulating all of you into voting me out!”

“Hey, Fugo, maybe we were wrong about Narancia and Formaggio being the impostors,” Giorno said. “It has to be one of them, but I’m starting to think it might be Melone.”

Everybody voted again. Melone had five votes, while Diavolo had two.

“Whores, all of you,” Melone said before the game teleported him to his death.

Melone was not the impostor.

Narancia and Formaggio giggled.

“I shouldn’t be laughing, but damn,” Formaggio said.

“I know, right? He sounds so mad,” Narancia commented.

“Well, it’s just the six of us, and neither of the impostors has died. So, there are four of us,” Risotto said.

“Yeah, and you’re an impostor!” Diavolo accused.

“Okay, looks like we can’t seem to trust each other,” Giorno said. “How do we feel about doing our tasks by ourselves? Risotto, from what I’m hearing, it sounds like you haven’t done yours. Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him since I know him well,” Formaggio volunteered. “If I die, tell Shadow I always loved him more than my dead wife.”

“Alright, let’s get all cleared,” Fugo said. “Formaggio will watch over Risotto while we do our work and watch out for the other impostor. By the way, Narancia, I still don’t trust you.”

“I don’t trust you either.”

Everyone went their separate ways, and Diavolo went to weapons to clear asteroids and then to O2 to dispose of garbage. Before he could go to navigation, Giorno was in the hallway.

“Oh, hello,” he said.

Diavolo was cautious. “Hello.”

“Have you seen Fugo? I completed my tasks and thought he would be in O2.”

Before he could answer, everybody was back at the cafeteria.

“What the hell?” Risotto commented. “I was in the middle of my task.”

On the board, Fugo was dead.

“Fuck you, Giorno!” Narancia yelled and got close to him. “I should’ve known it was you! Before we voted Trish out, I could’ve sworn you said something to Trish!”

“Wait, wait, Narancia, I think you might be right,” Formaggio said. “I remember now! I did hear something!”

“We’re voting Giorno out!”

“He was alone with me when I was heading to navigation,” Diavolo said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t trust you.”

Giorno had four votes, and it was all over for them. Giorno was not the impostor.

The four of them returned to the others. Formaggio and Narancia were the impostors.

“I fucking knew it and called it,” Fugo said.

Narancia cackled. “You just suck.”

“I was the first to die,” Pesci said, sounding sad.

“I think I was, but don’t feel bad, man,” comforted Mista.

“Wow, Diavolo, I should’ve believed you when you said you weren’t the impostor,” Risotto said.

“It’s fine. I can’t blame you for thinking it’s me. I usually hack the game into making me the impostor.”

Vinegar Doppio

 

Diavolo and Donatella go on a Date

“Why am I going to visit my grandparents?” Trish asked her parents.

“We thought you wanted to spend more time with them,” Donatella answered.

“But they’re old.”

“What’s wrong with being old?” Diavolo asked.

“Aren’t they slow?” Trish replied.

Diavolo snickered. Yeah, dad is pretty slow.

“Your grandparents aren’t slow. They’ll be able to take care of you and Ozzy,” Donatella explained. “Come on. Let’s go. Diavolo, do you want to drive, or shall I?”

“I’ll drive, but I’m not getting out of the car.”

“Babe, if it’s about the name thing, can you forget it?”

“I don’t like my name. I prefer the name I go by.”

It was a name his father, a priest, had given him. Years later, when Diavolo’s biological mother served her sentence, the priest let her live with them. Eventually, the priest had to tell Diavolo who the strange woman living in their house was, causing him to act out.

“What’s going on?” Trish asked.

“Solido…” Donatella sounded serious.

“Alright. Everyone in the car,” Diavolo said.

He drove them to his parent’s house, and Donatella, Trish, and Ozzy got out of the car while he waited. He saw his mother open the door to greet and take them in but didn’t see his father.

“Hello there!” Diavolo’s father said to his adopted son. He appeared out of nowhere. “I was trimming the bushes around the yard. You probably didn’t see me.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. “Hi.”

“I noticed you have green dots dyed onto your hair. For a second, I thought you had mold in your hair.”

Diavolo smiled slightly. At least he didn’t say I had lice. During the rare moments when he went outside, some people would ask if he had lice, which annoyed him. Do people know what lice look like? “Does it look good?” Why did he ask that? He wasn’t looking for his father’s approval.

“It makes you stand out, but I like it. I think Donatella’s lipstick got on you.”

“Oh, that’s mine.”

“I think I saw a cop wearing lipstick when I went to Naples. You don’t see men having lipstick on back in my days. Times are changing. Maybe that’s good. I see that you’ve also been working out. I remember you used to be so scared of strangers.”

Diavolo remembered his dad being more strict and controlling when he was younger, but he changed. “Hey, dad, what do you want?”

“Soli—Diavolo,” he corrected himself, “I’m sorry for not telling you about your mother sooner, as well as the other things I’ve done.”

“I…forgive you.” He felt like he was about to tear up. “Um, Donatella is coming. We’re going out on a date. It was nice talking to you, dad. Tell mom I said hi. I love you.”

“I love you too. Take care. We’ll look after Trish and Ozzy.” The priest looked at Donatella. “Have fun on your date!”

“I will!”

Donatella got in, and Diavolo drove off.

“I didn’t know your dad was there. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He was better than alright couldn’t find a better word.

“So, where are we heading to?”

“Do you remember that spot where I took a photo of you?”

“Costa Smeralda?” Donatella smiled. “Ah! Yeah, I’d love to go. It’s such a nice day out, and I never did go swimming when you took that photo.”

“We need to buy a swimsuit, towels, and sunscreen.”

Diavolo parked his car near a small store that sells swimsuits and other things. When they went in, Donatella wasn’t sure what swimsuit to buy.

“Should I wear a one-piece or a two-piece?” she asked him. “The black and white striped swimsuit with a pineapple looks cute, but what if I have to use the bathroom? None of the two-piece swimsuits look boring.”

“How about a two-piece? You always wear clothes that expose your belly.”

“Not all the time, but I guess I will. Hmm, now, do I want orange or green?”

While she debated on what color, Diavolo looked at the trunks. Nothing seemed to grab his attention except for the pink one. It was short compared to the other ones, though.

“What do you think of this?” Diavolo showed her.

“It’s kind of short, and you have some cake.”

He blushed. “Oh?”

“Anyway, I decided what color my swimsuit would be. The top will be orange and the bottom black.”

After buying the swimsuits and everything they needed for the beach, they headed home to change and pack food and drinks before heading to Costa Smeralda. When they got to the beach, no clouds were in the sky, and the temperatures were just right.

“Wow, just like how I remembered it,” Donatella commented.

“I’ll get the chairs and everything else.” Diavolo grabbed the chairs, towels, umbrella, and picnic basket from the trunk, bringing them to the sandy part of the beach.

The two helped each other apply sunscreen and sat for a while.

“Maybe we should’ve brought Trish,” Donatella said, watching the kids play with their parents.

“I know Trish would’ve loved this, but I’m worried about her getting into the water,” Diavolo said. “We haven’t taken her to get swimming lessons.”

“I guess you’re right. Well, I’m ready to swim. Wait, is the water cold?”

“It’s better for the water to be cold. You’ll appreciate the warm air.”

“Alright, if you say so. But you’re coming with me. I realized I don’t know how to swim.”

“You’ll be fine. Just don’t go too far away from shore.”

The couple held hands, and Donatella dipped her foot into the water.

“It’s kind of cold,” she commented.

Diavolo let go and went to where water reached his neck. The ocean water was just right. “Really? I don’t think it’s that bad. Come, join me.” He brought his hands from out the water and curled his index finger.

“Let me get used to the water first.”

Donatella slowly went deeper into the water until Diavolo suddenly grabbed and dragged her in.

“Ah! It’s cold!”

He chuckled and splashed water on her, causing her to splash water back. They played and swam around for a few minutes. Then they returned to their seats to have lunch, eating watermelon and ham sandwiches and drinking bottles of Perrier.

“After we teach Trish how to swim,” Donatella spoke, “we should bring her here. I’m sure she would love it.”

“Maybe we should bring my parents too.”

“Yeah, but having time alone together was great. Let’s bring the others on my next day off.”

Diavolo scooted his chair closer to hers, holding her soft hands, and they watched the ocean, seeing boats and birds go by.

Sir Ozzy of Osbourne

Trish approached her father, Diavolo, who was eating at the dining table.

“Hey, dad, can we get a dog? Or a cat? Or maybe even a bunny?” she asked, giving him puppy eyes.

“Did you ask your mother?” he asked.

“No, she’s at work. Call her.”

Diavolo sighed, got up, and went to the phone in the kitchen, dialing Donatella’s cell. Trish was next to him to hear the conversation.

“Hey, babe, is something wrong?” she asked.

“Trish wants a pet. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure why she wants a pet suddenly, but I don’t see the harm. I make enough money, anyways.”

“Very well. I guess I’m off to get Trish a pet. I love you.” He blew a kiss.

“I love you too! Bye!”

She hung up, and Diavolo returned to the table to eat.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” Trish asked.

“Let me eat first.”

She waited, and when he finished, he walked over to the living, sat on the couch, and watched TV, flipping over the channels.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Watching TV.”

“You’re not even watching anything! Aren’t we supposed to go to the pet shop?” She crossed her arms and pouted.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

“But we got to go now!”

“And why do we?”

“Because I said so!” Trish sounded whiny. “You’re not even doing anything.”

“Why are you in a rush?”

“If we don’t go, I’ll get mom to divorce you.”

Diavolo quickly turned his head to face her. “Where did you learn that word?”

“From one of the older kids. Can we go now?”

He sighed. “Fine. Let me get dressed and brush my teeth.”

-

Diavolo and Trish were at the pet shop, and Trish looked at the falcon with a red scarf and brown feathers. Diavolo didn’t like its stare. It seemed too angry and menacing, but at least it was in its cage.

“Please don’t tell me you want this one,” Diavolo asked, looking at his child.

“Can it poke someone’s eyes out?” Trish asked.

“What kind of question is that? Maybe? If it does, I’m not going to get that.”

They moved on and looked at the reptiles. A turtle caught Diavolo’s attention.

“I always wanted a pet turtle. Hey, Trish, do you want this one?” He pointed to the one named Coco Jumbo.

“I like its name, but no.”

A shame. Diavolo liked that one, but the two moved on to the dog and cat section of the store. For a few minutes, Trish looked like she wanted a cat, judging by how long she stared at them. She looked at the Siberian cat and then the blue-gray British shorthair cat.

“Should I get something cute or something scary?” Trish asked.

“Huh?”

“Giorno says repeating the same thing is useless.”

“Why would you get something scary?”

“Because I want to go to the park.”

“Trish, if you want to go to the park, I must accompany you. You’re not old enough to be by yourself. What is this about?”

“Um.” She blushed. “A guy.”

“A boy?” Trish was only five. Were girls age interested in boys? “Trish, don’t buy things or pets to impress someone.”

“I don’t want to impress him. I want a dog!” Trish whined again, pouting and crossing her arms this time.

He sighed. “Taking care of a dog is a big responsibility. Will you take your dog out and pick up its poop? Are you sure you can handle pets?”

“Yeah, I—” A dog’s constant barking distracted Trish. It was the dog by the window, and she walked toward it. The dog was a chihuahua with blond fur and a white underbelly, and its name was Ozzy. “I want him. I want Ozzy.”

Diavolo looked at the dog, and it turned around and growled at him. “Are you sure? It seems aggressive.”

“Hey! He’s not an ‘it’! He’s Ozzy of Osbourne.”

“Of Osbourne?”

“Yes, Sir Ozzy of Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness.”

“Wow, you want this dog, don’t you?”

“Yeah, can we get him? Pwease?”

“Alright, fine.”

“Wait, we need to get him things first!”

“Yeah, I’ll get to that, sweetie.”

“I’m buying the collar!”

Trish ran to look at the dog collars meant for small dogs. She debated whether she wanted the pink bow collar or the spikey one. Eventually, she settled for the spikey one, and Diavolo bought a food bowl and some food for Ozzy.

-

Diavolo, Trish, and Ozzy went home for lunch shortly after. Then they headed to the park, and Diavolo noticed a sinister smile on his daughter’s face when she spotted her friends.

“Hi, Giorno, Mista, Narancia! Hello, Fugo.”

“Hi,” all of the kids said except Fugo. Diavolo tried to figure out which boy Trish liked.

“What are you doing here?” inquired the golden blond boy with fancy clothes. Diavolo thought his question sounded too aggressive.

“I want to be with my friends,” she answered.

“You don’t have any friends here except for your stupid mutt.”

Ozzy growled at him.

“Fugo, that wasn’t nice,” Giorno said. “Besides, I told her we’d be here, and she’s my friend.”

“I told you it’s just me, Narancia, and Mista! I never asked for you to be with us!”

“Yeah!” Narancia added.

“I thought you wanted to hang out with me.” Giorno frowned but didn’t cry.

“Well, I was testing you to see if you were worthy of being my friend. You failed,” Fugo replied.

“Yeah!” Narancia added.

“Shut up!” Fugo slapped the purple-eyed boy in the cheeks, causing a tear to run down his face. “You don’t have to reply to everything I say.”

“Uh, I’m—” Fugo raised a hand, and Narancia was immediately silent.

Diavolo couldn’t believe Trish would want to hang out with such rowdy kids. Now he can see why she brought the dog. Though, he wished he had gotten a pit bull instead.

“Go home, Trish!” He shoved her to the ground. “You too, Trish’s dad!”

Diavolo furrowed his brows and clenched his fists. “Is that any way to—”

Ozzy barked aggressively. Noticing this, Trish let go of the leash, and the dog pounced on Fugo, biting and tearing his hair and causing the boy to scream and cry.

“Trish! Narancia, Mista, help!” Fugo kicked Ozzy, causing the dog to scurry and whimper to Diavolo’s side.

Trish and Diavolo got angry, but Trish was the first to act and attacked Fugo, throwing punches.

“Trish, stop!” her dad demanded. “This is not how I raised you!”

Narancia and Mista cheered for Trish while Giorno silently stood and watched. Eventually, Fugo’s parents showed up while Diavolo pulled Trish away from the boy, who still cried.

“What is going on?” asked a brunette man with a mustache.

“Excuse me, sir, is this your daughter?” a blond woman with a low bun and glasses questioned Diavolo. “Did you raise her to act like this? What kind of father are you?”

“No, you tell me. Your son may wear nice clothes but acts like a thug, thinking he owns the park. He even hit a boy and shoved my daughter to the ground.”

“Y-yeah,” hesitated Narancia.

“You little…” Fugo glared at the purple-eyed boy before running away, crying.

“That guy needs to realize he can’t run from everything,” Mista commented.

Fugo’s parents were speechless and ran after their child.

“Narancia, Trish, are you alright?” Giorno asked. “Is your dog injured?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “And I think Ozzy is fine too.”

The dog barked, causing the group to smile.

“I’m alright, I guess. I’m a little sad, but I feel bad for Fugo. He’s not that bad. His parents just suck,” Narancia said.

“Yeah, I should go check on him too,” Giorno said. “Let’s go together. Wait, but first, can I pet your dog?”

“I think he’d like that,” Trish answered.

Giorno petted the dog, and Ozzy licked his hands, causing the boy to giggle. “I like him. My dad is thinking about getting that falcon in the pet shop. Maybe our pets could hang out one day. Bye!”

“I thought about getting the falcon. You better get it before someone takes it. Bye!” Trish waved.

The children left, leaving Trish, Diavolo, and Ozzy by themselves.

“Is Giorno the boy you like?” Diavolo asked.

“Huh?”

“Giorno says repeating the same thing is useless,” he repeated what she had told him in the pet shop.

“Hey!”

“Come on. I think Ozzy had enough excitement today. Let’s go home.”

“Okay, wait, dad—” Too late. Diavolo stepped on Ozzy’s poop and died a little on the inside. “I was going to clean that up, but you stepped on it. It’s your mess now.”

Diavolo Cleans the House

It was a Monday morning, and Diavolo and Donatella cuddled in bed. They peacefully slept until Trish, five years old, came into their room crying. Although exhausted, Donatella got out of bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I wet the bed again,” she answered.

“Again? What time is it?” She looked at the clock. “What! It’s 7 AM? Diavolo, wake up!” She opened the curtains, and beams of light woke him up, making him slowly rise. “Trish, eat, then brush your teeth. Babe, I’m going to drop her off. Could you clean up around the house? It’s a bit of a mess.”

“Alright.” He went back to bed.

Half an hour later, Diavolo awoke and lazily walked to the kitchen. Immediately, he saw spilled milk on the floor and sighed, grabbing a paper towel to clean it up. Once he cleaned it, he looked at the state of the house.

“Wow, what a mess,” he commented.

Couch pillows were on the floor, the dirty dishes pilled the sink, Trish drew on the walls, and everything was a complete mess.

Before Diavolo could do the chores, he made a bowl of cereal, brushed his teeth, and changed his clothes. First, he put the pillows on the couch, did the dishes, vacuumed the floor, and dusted the shelves. Afterward, he looked at Trish’s graffiti.

“This looks like a child drew this,” Diavolo commented, looking at the drawn sunflower. “I could improve this, but I have other things to do. I think Donatella wants me to clean up Trish’s room too.”

He headed to her room, trying to look for the light switch.

“Ugh, why does it smell like pee in here? Oh, right, Trish—ouch! What the?”

Something small and sharp pierced the skin of his foot. What could Trish have in here that could injure someone, and how did it get here? Diavolo turned on the lights and looked down at his foot—a lego.

“I thought we told Trish to pick this up!” He sighed, looking at the lego pieces all over the floor. “Guess I need to pick these up first.”

He grabbed the legos and put them in a box. Finally, he was able to safely get the blanket without injuring himself. He took the soiled blanket into the laundry room, placed it in the washer, and returned to Trish’s room to see if anything else needed cleaning. Nothing more needed cleaning, but he saw something on Trish’s table. It was something round with a bite mark and grayish blue. Diavolo got closer to inspect it, noticed some holes, and sniffed it.

“Smells like playdough, but why are there holes?” He dug his fingers in there, taking out an M&M buried inside. “What? Hold on. Did she try to make this edible? Huh, I see what she was doing. That’s kind of smart.”

Diavolo walked out of the room, and it seemed like he had finished the chores except for cleaning the walls. He looked at the clock in the living room and noticed that Donatella should be home by now. Then the phone went off in the kitchen, causing Diavolo to walk over there and answer it.

“Babe, are you there?” Donatella asked.

“Yeah, I’m here. Where are you? What’s taking you so long?”

“Did you notice Trish spilled milk on the floor? After dropping her off, I had to go to the grocery store to buy some milk. I’m in a long line. How’s the cleaning going?”

“The house is almost clean, but I’m planning a surprise for you and Trish.”

“Really? I can’t wait to see it!”

“I think I can get this done before you get home. I should hurry. I love you.”

“I love you too! Bye!”

They hung up, and Diavolo returned to Trish’s room for some crayons and began drawing sunflowers near her drawing.

-

Donatella returned with milk and sandwiches and saw Diavolo napping on the couch with the TV on. The house was clean, but she noticed Trish’s sunflower drawing was on the wall but with more detailed-looking sunflowers.

Diavolo finally awoke and sat straight. “Oh, you’re here. Welcome back. I missed you.”

Donatella sat on the sofa and kissed him. “I bought some sandwiches on the way since it was almost lunchtime. I think Trish will like the drawing.” She placed the sandwiches on the coffee table and looked at the television. “What are we watching? It looks like a cartoon but not meant for kids.”

“Oh, this? I have no idea. I turned this on for background noise. It looks like a bunch of people with superpowers is fighting in Egypt. I don’t know.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’ll watch it with you. Let me put my purse back in the closet.” She got up and quickly walked to their room, noticing Diavolo had forgotten to clean this area. She returned and plopped herself on the couch. “You forgot our room,” she said, cuddling against him.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “Oh, and Trish didn’t put her legos away. I had to clean them up again, and she also mixed her playdough and M&Ms together to make it edible.”

“Interesting, but at least she stopped eating her crayons.”

They sat down and watched the cartoon together.

Costa Smeralda

Something was off, and Bruno couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He sat in a car with Abbacchio, but the others weren’t with him. Bruno tried to figure out his location and looked around in the car seat. Judging from the barrel clay tiles from the church near the beach, he was still in Italy, but where exactly? And why was he wearing fewer clothes? Are these swimming trunks?

“And not a cloud in the sky. I’ll get the things out from the trunk,” Abbacchio said before kissing him.

“Wait!” Bruno caused him to stop, but his mind felt blank. “The things?”

“You know, the umbrella, towels, sunscreen, and food.”

“I could’ve sworn we were supposed to do something.”

“Yeah, relax. Trish told us to come to Sardinia, specifically Cala di Volpe in Costa Smeralda.”

“Oh, where is she?”

“In Naples with the others. Fugo suggested that they stay behind while we vacation. I think Narancia wanted to join us. It’s better if he doesn’t. Hey, can you open the trunk, please?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He pressed the button on the key to open the trunk. “Here. Let me help you.”

Bruno carried the umbrella and picnic basket, while Abbacchio had the towels and sunscreen. How strange, he thought. Bruno expected many people at the beach, but it seemed like they had the whole area to themselves. Abbacchio placed the towels down and took off his black shirt. Bruno got topless, also.

“Before we lay down, want to take a picture near that church? How about that little pillar thing?” Abbacchio took out a camera.

“Right here?”

“Yeah, but put your arms on the pillar. Okay, now cross them and rest your head there. Perfect! Let’s head back. Trish will love this picture.”

They returned to their spot on the beach.

“Can you help put sunscreen on my back?” Abbacchio asked. “It’s hard to reach.”

Bruno squirted the sunscreen in his hand and rubbed it on his muscular back.

“You’re good with those hands,” he complimented and gave a playful giggle.

“Oh?” Bruno smiled. “Maybe once we’re alone in private, I could stroke something.” He blushed and cleared his throat.

“No one’s here.” Abbacchio placed a finger under Bruno’s chin and brought him closer. “We can do whatever we want.”

The white-haired man slithered his tongue inside him, and they held each other tightly. Saliva dripped from their mouths, and Abbacchio’s hand squeezed Bruno’s ass. After making out for a couple of minutes, they needed to catch their breaths.

Bruno panted. “I helped you. Now you help me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Abbacchio grabbed the sunscreen and applied a generous amount in his hands, rubbing it on Bruno’s arms and legs.

“Aren’t you forgetting the chest and back?”

“Getting there, Bruno.” He kissed his neck. He rubbed the sunscreen on his chest, playing with his nipples.

“Ah, what are you doing?” His face turned red.

Abbacchio rubbed sunscreen on his back and then his stomach, but his hands didn’t stop there. They moved lower, fondling the bulge in Bruno’s trunks. “You know what I’m doing.”

He bit his lips. “What if someone sees us?”

“It’s just us.”

“What will you do if there are people here? Would you keep going?”

“Yeah, and I’ll be sneaky.” Abbacchio’s hands went in his trunks, touching and stroking his hardened cock, which caused the other to bite his lips to contain his moan.

Bruno couldn’t contain it and let it slip. He felt filthy but in a good way. “Good. Don’t stop.” He closed his eyes.

Then they heard a bunch of kids playing soccer, causing Bruno to open his eyes, but Abbacchio didn’t stop.

The black-haired man grabbed his arm. “Stop! Are you insane? There are kids here. We need to stop.”

“I said I’ll be sneaky.”

“No, we have to stop.”

“Didn’t you tell me not to stop?”

“Yes, but this is different.”

He tried to get his hands off his pants but couldn’t. “Abbacchio, what’s with you?”

“I thought this is what you wanted.”

“No! Please, hurry! Those kids might see what we’re doing.”

“If it’s what you want.” He withdrew his hands and then stared at him with puppy eyes.

“Leone…”

“Could you make sure those kids are gone? I just want to spend time with you.” Abbacchio sounded heartbroken.

Something was off. Bruno felt like he had been here before but steeled himself and walked towards the group of kids. He approached the kid with short pink hair, who wasn’t facing him. For some reason, he was shirtless.

“Hey, could you kids run off and play somewhere else?” Bruno asked.

The boy turned around, and he saw his stitched lips. Someone cut the boy’s left wrist.

“What’s going on, Abbacchio?” he yelled and turned around.

Abbacchio wasn’t there.

“Abbacchio!” He turned around to question the kid, but he, too, disappeared.

Gray clouds rolled in, and Bruno kept shouting his name. He then looked at the church and saw somebody lying on the rocks. He got closer and saw Abbacchio with a hole where his heart should be, and a pool of blood surrounded his body. Mortified, Bruno covered his mouth and closed his eyes, hoping it was a bad dream.

-

“Abbacchio!” Bruno shouted and sat in his bed.

“What is it?” Abbacchio slowly rosed in bed.

“I had that dream again,” he replied.

“Come here. Cuddle with me. It’s still dark, and you need your sleep.”

Narancia barged in the door. Mista, Giorno, and Fugo were behind him. “I heard a scream. Are you alright?”

“It’s just another nightmare,” Bruno answered. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep, everyone.”

Tirdas Afternoon

Bruno was with the recruit, a Breton named Giorno Giovanna, and he wanted to see how much he could steal in a crowd. However, he didn’t think he’d bring him to a large party in Cheydinhal.

When Giorno told Bruno to change into some fancy, he was unsure of his plan.

“Trust me,” he said.

Bruno had bought some soft, velvet clothing in his favorite color—blue. Now he wore it to a party he wasn’t invited to. Hopefully, that guard with long white hair doesn’t notice him.

“Why are we here?” he asked.

“You wanted to see how much I could steal. I’m going to show you,” the blond reminded.

The Breton casually approached an Imperial woman with short hair and a green velvet dress. Giorno had cast the charm spell before the woman turned around to face him, but the sound of it was quiet. He smiled, and they spoke, but Bruno couldn’t figure out what they were saying. Soon, the young blond returned.

“I took her earrings. Now, you try,” Giorno whispered, showing Bruno the silver earrings with emeralds.

“I didn’t see you touch her ears. What did you do?”

“Telekinesis.”

“Impressive, but I don’t know magic except for invisibility.”

“That’s alright. Talk to someone, and don’t forget to smile.”

“It’s impressive you haven’t been caught yet. I can see you advancing far into the ranks of the Thieves Guild.”

Bruno approached a dirt blond High Elf with a widow’s peak wearing red garments and asked if he knew alchemy. He said no but decided to introduce himself and ramble about his work, giving Bruno enough time to slip into his pockets and steal a soul gem. Orintur, the High Elf he spoke to, directed him to Eilonwy, a High Elf in a green dress.

“That’s her,” the elf said, looking directly at her. She chatted with a group of orcs Bruno wanted to avoid.

Then Giorno entered the conversation. “Greetings, Orintur! Sorry, this is my new friend. He’s thinking about joining the Mages Guild. He wanted to know everyone before joining.”

“Ah, well, good luck with that. Arch-mage Avdol has made it difficult for others to get into the Mages Guild.” The elf walked away.

“I shouldn’t do this, but distract her while I take her ring,” Giorno whispered to Bruno.

He nodded, and they approached Eilonwy. First, he asked if she knew who those orcs were, and then she complained that they were drug dealers and wanted nothing to do with them. He questioned why she didn’t turn them to the guard, and she gave a lengthy excuse for why she couldn’t. Giorno elbowed him, signaling that he had her ring. However, the white-haired guard clutched the Breton’s arms.

“What’s that in your hands?” he interrogated.

Eilonwy noticed her ring was no longer on her finger. “Where’s my ring?” she panicked.

“That’s it! Reveal your hands!” he demanded.

Giorno revealed his hands, showing the ring he stole.

“Aha! Thief!”

“I was going to return it to Eilonwy!” he explained, looking into the guard’s yellow and purple eyes.

“I doubt that.”

“Wait, it’s true!” Bruno said. “I was about to tell Eilonwy she lost her ring. My friend here picked it up. He’s telling the truth.”

“That’s right. It slipped and fell,” Giorno defended himself.

“What’s going on?” asked a High Elf who wore the same garments as Bruno. “Who are these two? I didn’t invite these two. I don’t even know who they are.”

The white-haired guard continued to glare at Giorno. Bruno wasn’t sure why he was so focused on him.

“I’m part of the Mages Guild, so I thought I could come with my friend.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Abbacchio, please see that these two are out.”

“Alright, you two, I’ll escort you out.”

The guard shoved Giorno but gently pushed Bruno. After he opened the door, he pushed Giorno out while he let Bruno step out.

“Well, at least he didn’t know about the other junk we stole,” the blond commented.

“Are you available next week?” Bruno asked. “We could do this again.”

“As much as I want to, Avdol wants me in Bruma to help rebuild, so I’ll be there for a while.”

-

It was the next week, and Bruno found himself with Narancia, a Wood Elf. The two of them were outside a warehouse in the Waterfront District. Polpo had assigned them a task to retrieve a small box of goodies.

“You are to find a small red box with a yellow ribbon with Fugo’s name written somewhere,” Polpo explained.

“Fugo? Hey! That’s my friend!” blurted Narancia. “Wait, why are we stealing it from him?”

“It’s not his gift if he hasn’t received it yet,” he answered. “And besides, it’s from someone he doesn’t like. You’ve heard of Tuudir Greenthorn, correct?”

Judging from the sound of disgust Naranica made, he did.

“At night, there should be one guard near the entrance. There would be two, but I managed to bribe the other into not coming. Now go! The night is nigh.”

“Since you’re good at small talk, I’ll let you do the chatting,” Bruno said as they approached the warehouse.

“And you get the box. What a simple task. I thought this was going to be much harder.”

“You don’t know that yet. Do you see that guard?” Bruno pointed to the long white-haired man. “He—wait, I know that guy.”

“You do?” Narancia asked. “Will that complicate things?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should speak to him.”

“Are you sure about this? What are you two even going to talk about?”

“Abbacchio is his name, I think.” He ignored the Wood Elf.

Confused, Narancia watched as Bruno walked towards the guard.

“What are you doing here?” the black-haired Imperial asked.

Broken from his boredom, he faced Bruno. “It’s you!” He smiled but then quickly killed it, possibly to appear professional. “Citizen, how may I help you?”

He chuckled. “Abbacchio, was it? Whare you doing here? I thought you were a guard in Cheydinhal.”

The guard leaned against the wall. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. Shortly after I had to kick you out and that guy you were with, Voranil had a word with me in private and—” As the guard rambled, Bruno saw Narancia sneaking inside. The Imperial tried to focus his sight on Abbacchio’s eyes. Curious, he wondered if the guard was multiracial because Bruno had never seen such gorgeous unique-looking eyes. Bruno should pay attention to the conversation, but all he could do was stare.

“And that was the end of that. What about you?” Abbacchio finished.

He was silent for a few seconds. “What?”

“Were you paying attention?” he asked.

At the worst possible time, Narancia slipped out, but the guard hadn’t noticed him yet. But the Wood Elf knew how much danger he was in and gave Bruno a glare that could kill. “Don’t mess this up,” he mouthed. The door behind the elf creaked, causing the guard to stop leaning against the wall and almost look at him until Bruno said something.

“I got lost in your eyes!” he blurted, causing the guard to face him. The two blushed.

Narancia muffled his snicker and snuck away.

Abbacchio smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind his ears. “I like looking at your eyes too. I noticed at the party that your outfit matched your eyes. I would’ve said something, but I was busy guarding. By the way, where is your outfit? You’re dressed like a—”

“An adventurer?” Bruno finished. He had on a leather outfit.

“That explains why Voranil was suspicious of you. An adventurer? Wow, that must be exciting. You must’ve been through a lot. What’s the most interesting thing that has ever happened to you?”

He didn’t want to lie. He has never explored any ruins before. The only exploration he has done was probably in the sewers, but thinking about it, being in the Thieves Guild was an adventure. Although, it probably wasn’t as exciting as the Hero of Kvatch’s, wherever he may be. “Meeting you.”

Abbacchio guffawed. “You’re funny. No way am I the most interesting thing.”

Narancia returned, curious as to why Bruno was taking so long. “Um, hello there.”

The two of them ignored him.

“It’s true. All the guards look and sound the same, but you’re different,” Bruno told the Abbacchio. “Even Hieronymus Lex. How well do you know him?”

“We have to go,” the Wood Elf said, trying to interrupt them.

“That guy? He’s obsessed with finding the Gray Fox, but he’s not as bad as Adamus Phillida. Does every guard captain have an obsession?”

They chatted while Narancia tried to grab Bruno’s attention.

“Hey, I got the thing!” The Wood Elf got between them and pointed at the gifted box he had stolen. Abbacchio shoved him aside. “Seriously? I stole this thing!” Nobody reacted. “No way you guys are ignoring me.” But they did and kept talking. “I killed the emperor,” he lied, but that didn’t get their attention. “I eat babies!” he yelled, hoping that would work. It didn’t, and he gave up and opened the box. A bunch of chocolates was inside, and he began eating them as he listened to their conversation.

“I never got your name,” Abbacchio said to the Imperial.

“It’s Bruno Bucciarati,” he replied.

“Are you serious?” Narancia responded.

“My first name is Leone if you’re wondering.”

“Leone, I like that.”

He giggled shyly. “I like your name too. Anyways, I should make sure nobody tries to enter the warehouse. Good day. Uh, I mean, night.”

“Goodnight!” Bruno said. He turned around and saw Narancia. “What are you doing?” He grabbed him and dragged him somewhere private. “Where’s the box? Did you manage to steal it?”

“The box of chocolates?” Narancia showed him the opened and emptied gift box. “I have it.”

“What? Did you open it? What was in it?”

“Chocolates.” He smiled, showing evidence that he had eaten it all.

“Polpo sent us to steal chocolates? I—ugh! Well, he won’t be happy that you ate it all. Ugh, I should’ve gone in instead.”

“Hey, it worked out. You and that Leone guy were chatting it up better than I could’ve done. Say, what’s with you two? It looked like the guard was distracting you instead.”

“That? He’s just a guy I knew from a week ago.”

“Right. Well, goodnight!” Narancia left.

Polpo won’t be happy about this.

-

Last night, Polpo was upset with Bruno, expecting better from him, and sent him to do a dangerous task with Mista. He had sent them to steal some documents from the Legion offices in broad daylight, and, as it turns out, it did not go well. The guards chased them, and as Bruno feared, Abbacchio was there, chasing him down.

“Wait!” he yelled, but they kept running.

“Let’s split,” Bruno told Mista.

“Alright.”

The two of them split. Bruno planned to look for a sewer entrance and lose them there.

“Leone, stay behind,” one of the guards ordered.

“No way!” He sprinted, getting closer to Bruno, who was oddly enjoying this chase.

The Imperial turned to a corner, losing the guards except Leone, and went down the sewers. Unfortunately, that slowed him down, and Leone caught him. He pinned him to the walls.

“No way, you can’t be Bruno.”

“Unfortunately, I am. It looks like you have to turn me in.” He couldn’t believe he had let himself get caught.

“Voranil said you were a thief. He was right?”

“Yes, Leone—”

“Quiet!” He let him go, and Bruno could’ve run, but he didn’t. “What do I do with you?”

“Is this your first time catching a criminal?”

“No, but last night, did you distract me?”

“I did.”

“And you’re not an adventurer?”

“I’m not.”

“Wait, what did you steal? The person who checks inventory said everything was here.”

“A box of chocolate, which caused me a lot of trouble after my friend ate it. So, what are you doing to do to me now?”

“I’ll let you go, but I’m warning you to stop.”

“And if I don’t stop?”

Leone was speechless, making Bruno smile. He took a few steps away from him as an impish smile grew on his face.

“Then come chase me!” he said with a playful tone.

“Wait!” Leone held out his hand but watched him disappear into the darkness.

-

Be it night or day, Leone was there at every heist and robbery to stop Bruno. He would search and find him, chasing him down but never telling his superiors about him, and Bruno enjoyed the thrill of the chase. It was like that for a few weeks until one Tirdas afternoon.

Bruno had stolen a gold diamond necklace from a woman, but nobody had seen him, yet the guards searched diligently for the thief, every guard except for Leone. He searched around the city, finding him outside his uniform and leaving the city. The guard looked sullen.

“Leone,” he called out, “where are you going? Why aren’t you wearing your armor?”

“I’ll explain on the bridge,” he said.

A gentle breeze caressed their skin and hair when they exited the city, and the grass moved with the wind. Bruno gazed at the bright blue sky and watched as the few clouds raced each other, realizing he had spent too much time in the city.

“It’s nice to be outside,” he commented.

“The job is making me question everything,” Leone said, ignoring him. “Did you know the Hero of Kvatch was a criminal? And Audens Avidius was a guard captain, but he got arrested for extortion and theft. And to answer the question you asked before we left, I quit. Who am I protecting? Every criminal I catch gets out sooner or later. Can you be honest with me? Are you a part of the Thieves Guild?”

Bruno rested his arms on the stone fence of the bridge. “Yeah.”

“You guys aren’t like the Dark Brotherhood, and you don’t rob the poor.”

“We’re still thieves,” Bruno reminded him.

“Yeah, but there’s something about you, something righteous. I want to be a part of it. Let me join you.”

He wanted him to turn away. Lately, the Gray Fox has changed since the Oblivion Crisis ended, and he wondered if he was the same person. Bruno has heard rumors of their leader committing lazy robberies and murdering witnesses. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“I am,” he replied.

Bruno brought out the gold necklace he had stolen. “I was hoping you come after me, but it was I who was after you.” He threw the jewelry into the lake. “Ugly little necklace. We should do something to pass the time before you see Polpo. Are you up for some light robbery?” He stopped resting on the fence and headed for the city.

Leone followed. “Are you kidding me right now? Did you forget about the ruckus you caused? How am I supposed to steal something?”

“Can you think of a place?”

“Hmm, I want to steal from Voranil.”

“That guy is a jerk. Sure! Let’s do it.”

They both turned around, heading to Cheydinhal.

JOJOLands - Main Theme ~ Jodio Joestar's Theme (Music inspired by JoJo's...

Abbacchio Gets Down with the Sickness

It was 10:30 AM, and usually, Abbacchio was awake, but he lay in bed with a bunch of balled-up tissues around him. Bruno was awake but tired due to Abbacchio’s coughs last night. Speaking of which, Abbacchio coughed multiple times, and all sounded painful.

“Are you alright?” Bruno worried.

“I’m fine,” Abbacchio answered, his voice raspy. He coughed again. “I’m more worried about you. I don’t want you to catch my cold. I think I have a cold. I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. Didn’t Sheila and Trish want to go to that Thai restaurant? Don’t let me hold you back, but make sure you get something for me. I never had Thai food before, so I don’t know what’s on the menu.”

“I want to be by your side, and I don’t might catching a cold from you. Besides, while you were resting, I asked Fugo to get some takeout from the restaurant. We’ll both have something to eat.”

“Then what are we going to do in the meantime?”

“I guess we’ll watch something on the TV.” Bruno turned the television on, and it was on the weather channel.

“Boring. Can you change the channel?”

He switched it again. It was on Spongebob.

“This looks like something Narancia would watch,” Abbacchio commented.

“You’re right.” He changed the channel. A bunch of people were in a hospital, and a doctor spoke to the patient’s family. They started crying.

“Boring. Try the History channel. I want to know what’s on there.”

Bruno switched it to the History channel, and the narrator told the history of Christmas.

“Oh my gosh. Boring!”

“I can’t think of anything else. Wait! I can make herbal tea. Trish had some tea bags in her room when we went shopping. She wouldn’t mind if a bag or two disappeared. Besides, you’re sick. She’ll understand.”

“How are you going to—” Bruno zipped the door open. “Oh, right.”

A minute or two later, the capo returned with two teas. “Hmm, Zesty Lady. I wonder what this taste like.” He tossed a tea bag to Abbacchio, who then sniffed it.

“It smells citrusy.”

“I’ll boil some water in a pot since we don’t have a kettle.”

Bruno brought out a pot, used the sink to get water, and placed the pot on the stove, turning it on. After the water boiled and cooled off, he poured it into the mugs and put the teabags. He brought them and sat down on the bed.

“Careful,” Bruno said as he handed a cup to Abbacchio. “It might be hot.”

He blew his drink before slowly taking a sip. “I taste some orange and lemon.”

“I just remembered something from a long time ago.”

“How long ago are we talking about?”

“When I introduced you to Giorno.”

Abbacchio frowned. “I thought you wanted me to get better.”

Bruno furrowed his brows and looked angry. “What’s your problem with him?”

He sighed. “I didn’t trust him at first.”

“You still don’t?”

“Well…fine! I guess he’s alright.”

“Good. I just want us all to get along. Now, what happened when I introduced you to Giorno? Everyone seemed shocked at what he did, but I didn’t know what had happened because I was chatting with someone. What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Abbacchio replied, sounding suspicious.

Bruno gave him a look. “What are you hiding?”

“The tea smelled funny, and I gave it to Giorno.”

“Something happened to the tea at Libeccio? That’s strange. Once we get back, I’ll have a word with the owner.”

“No need for that! Narancia”—he tried to think of something—“did something to the tea.”

“So the tea smelled funny, and Narancia did something to it.” Bruno’s eyes widened. “He peed in the tea kettle? I’m going to have a word with him when he returns!”

“No! Narancia didn’t do anything!”

“Now I’m confused. What was Narancia doing?”

“Math homework.”

“So what happened to the tea? Because I remembered that I was thirsty, and you told me to get another pot.”

Abbacchio grew tired of these questions. “When will our food arrive?”

“Soon, hopefully. It’s only”—Bruno looked at the clock—“11:32.”

The two heard loud footsteps and chattering. Someone from the group knocked on their door.

“Bucciarati, we’re here with some food!” Mista said from behind the door.

“We brought Abbacchio some tom kha,” Giorno said. “That’s coconut soup.”

Bruno got up, went to the door, and opened it. “Anything for me?”

“I got you the ginger salmon,” Trish said. “It has mushrooms, and I know you like those. Is it alright if we eat here?”

“Sounds good,” Bruno said. He then looked at Abbacchio. “Do you want them in?”

“Sure. Make sure they stay clear of me, though.”

“You heard him. Come on in.”

Trish, Sheila, Narancia, and Mista sat at the small round table while Giorno sat at a desk, and Fugo sat on a chair near him. Everyone peacefully ate until Bruno asked Narancia a question.

“Narancia, when I introduced everyone to Giorno, did you do something to the tea?”

The black-haired boy looked at Bruno and then at Abbacchio. “Why?”

“Did you do anything to the tea?”

“Bucciarati, you don’t have to worry about that,” Giorno said.

“Well, I want to know what happened,” he replied.

“Uh.” Narancia looked around the room. “Fugo! Fugo did something.”

“Fugo?” Bruno turned his head to face him. “D-did you pee in the kettle and pour a cup for Giorno? What kind of sick, twisted idea is that?”

All eyes were on Fugo, and he got visibly upset. “Seriously? Wow. First of all, Abbacchio—”

Abbaccio’s loud fake cough interrupted him. “Oh no! I’m getting sick.” Then he started coughing for real and rapidly. “Get—cough, cough—get them away from me!”

The gang grabbed their food and rushed out of the room, leaving the two alone.

“Bucciarati, thanks, but you need to let that go.”

“You’re right. How’s your soup?”

“I’ve never had anything like this before. You’ve got to try this.”

Bruno got up, searched the cabinets for a spoon, and sat back down on the bed once he found one. He took a spoonful of the coconut and ate it. “Wow. It tastes lemony. It smells like it has lemon in it. I can see mushrooms, chicken, and cilantro in my soup. And wow, they sure gave us a lot of soup. Is it okay if I can have a bowl?”

“Sure, but let me have the rest. I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“I saw the others were sharing their food too. That restaurant must’ve given them a lot of food. I wonder how much it cost.”

“Hey, Bruno.”

“What is it?”

“About the tea thing. Um, I was the one who peed in the kettle.”

“So that explains why everyone seemed impressed with Giorno.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“No, but don’t pull that ever again.” Bruno kissed Abbacchio’s cheek.

“I won’t.”

Valentine's Day

“Giorno, Fugo, I need your help,” Bruno said, his cheeks pink. They were in Libeccio, and the two teens sat with Mista and Narancia. Abbacchio had to use the bathroom. “It’s not urgent, but it’s…urgent.”

“But, Bucciarati, what about Mista and me?” Narancia asked.

He sighed. “This is a task for these two. Anyways, we need to step out somewhere.”

The three went outside, stepping into an empty alleyway.

“Is this about Valentine’s Day?” asked Fugo.

Bruno’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“You give Leone lovey-dovey looks, and he feels the same way.”

“And how exactly do you know if he likes me back?”

“He takes about you a lot. I was wondering when either of you would make a move on each other.”

Bruno was silent for a few seconds. “Wow, was it that obvious? Do Narancia and Mista know? Giorno, what about you?”

“They’re smart enough to know, and I thought you and Abbacchio were together,” Giorno answered. “When I first joined, Abbacchio seemed defensive whenever I was near you. Funny enough, I spent more time with Fugo.”

The two blonds blushed.

“What are you two going to do on Valentine’s Day?” Bruno asked.

“We’re going to the park tomorrow,” Fugo answered.

“I don’t think Abbacchio seems like the type to go for a walk in the park.”

“I don’t think so either. Are you trying to think of what to do? Why not dine out or watch a movie?”

“Wait, how about I make him dinner, and he and I watch a movie at my house?”

“That was similar to my idea, but go ahead. You know what his favorite food is, right?”

“His favorite foods are Margherita pizza and arugula salad, and his favorite drink is white wine! But what movie should we watch?”

“He and I watched Sling Blade one time. He did mention how he wanted to watch that with you.”

“He did?”

“But, Bucciarati, are you going to—you know.” Fugo’s face turned red. “I know you. I remember I had to look for you because Polpo needed something done, and somebody pointed me to a hotel. When I got there and found your room, I heard noises.”

Bruno’s face turned red. “Ah, yes, I’ll remember to get those. Excuse me. I might ask Abbacchio out now that everyone knows it’s obvious.”

He went back inside Libeccio and returned to the table, and Abbacchio sat with Mista and Narancia. Giorno and Fugo sat back down with the rest of the group. All of them except Abbacchio waited for Bruno to say something, but Bruno was too shy to ask him out with a group of people staring at him. Fugo tapped his foot.

“Abbacchio!” Bruno called out.

Abbacchio turned around to face him with a smile on his face. He smiled back. They stared at each other for a while until Giorno cleared his throat.

“Shut it, Giorno!” Abbacchio yelled. “I’m trying to hear what Bucciarati has to say.”

“W-we need to step out for a few minutes,” he said, grabbing Abbacchio’s hand. Once they were outside the restaurant together, Bruno regained his confidence. “It’s hard to ask someone out when people are watching. Do you want to spend your Valentine’s Day with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Abbacchio hugged him. “What will we be doing?”

“Want to have pizza at my house while we watch a movie? I was thinking of renting Sling Blade.”

“Sling Blade? Oh, that’s my favorite movie! Wait, you’re inviting me to your house? Am I also going to spend the night?”

“Of course!”

“Alright, we should head back inside.”

Returning to their seats, they noticed the teens rushed to sit in their chairs.

“Were you watching us?” Bruno asked.

“No,” Narancia lied.

Abbacchio frowned and furrowed his brows.

“Yeah,” admitted Fugo.

“We were dying to know when you two would make it official,” Mista added.

“Good luck on your date tomorrow, you two,” Giorno said.

“Thank you…Giorno,” Abbacchio replied.

-

It was Valentine’s Day, and Abbacchio was freaking out. He called Narancia and Mista for help. They arrived at where he resided, and he invited them in.

“Abbacchio, what’s wrong?” asked Narancia.

“I’m not sure what to wear. Should I change my makeup?”

“Relax,” Mista told him. “Just wear something casual. You are going to spend the night with him, right? And you’ll be eating pizza and watching a movie, right? Yeah, that’s totally casual. Just act cool.”

“Act cool? Right. Cool. Am I cool?”

“You listen to music constantly and look like you don’t care about anything. And if Bucciarati thinks you’re uncool, that’s okay because you have big feet, and you know what they say about people with big feet.”

“What do they say about people with big feet?” Narancia asked innocently.

Mista looked at him in surprise. “You don’t know?”

“No, but Abbacchio, make sure Bucciarati enjoys his time. I’ve known him since I was fourteen. You know how duty-bound he is. He’s a pent-up ball of sexual frustration.”

Abbacchio blushed. “Well, that explains why Bruno compared you to a condom.”

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing. I don’t think our night will end up like that. Besides, I never had”—his face turned even redder—“s-sex.”

“Really?” Mista’s mouth opened wide. “No way. Okay, well, you know how to give head, right?”

“I don’t think it’s going to go down like that!”

“Hmm, you’re right. What if Bucciarati goes down on you.”

“Mista, enough!” Abbacchio yelled in embarrassment. “Look, are you going to give me actual advice or not?”

“Okay, okay! So you might end up doing something called the 69. For me to show you how to give good head, I’ll need an eggplant.”

“No, Mista! I don’t need sex advice! Please, stop! Wait, how do you even know this stuff?”

“Sometimes Narancia does homework at a library while Fugo tutors him. I get on the computers and look at porn.”

“I’m not taking advice from a guy who watches porn,” Abbacchio turned to face Narancia, looking concerned. “Do you know about this?”

He shook his head. “I’m too busy with my homework to mess around with the computers. Maybe we should call Fugo. He’ll probably give good advice.”

“And if he doesn’t pick up and Giorno answers? I don’t think so.” Abbacchio stared at the clock. “I should get my stuff and get going. I’ll take your advice and relax.”

The three left the apartment, and Abbacchio walked to Bruno’s house. Meanwhile, Narancia and Mista discussed what to do next.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Narancia asked.

“Maybe. We’ll watch him from a distance.”

-

Bruno finished the pizza and took it out of the stove to cool it off. He walked over to the living room to dust off. Then the doorbell rang, and Bruno checked the peephole. It was Abbacchio, and he opened the door for him.

“Leone, you’re here!” he said.

Abbacchio blushed. He probably wasn’t used to someone saying his first name. “Bruno, how are you?”

“I’m happy now that you’re here. Come on in. The pizza is cooling off. Oh, I see you brought your stuff. My bedroom is upstairs.” Before Bruno could close the door when Abbacchio entered, he could’ve sworn he saw something orange hiding in the bush. “Wait!” Abbacchio stopped.

“Something wrong?”

He looked at him. “Were you followed?”

“I don’t think so. Wait.” Abbacchio dropped his things and headed to the front door. “Narancia, Mista, if you’re there, go home!”

Bruno checked outside. The orange thing in his bush was gone, but maybe Narancia, assuming the orange thing was Narancia’s strange skirt thing, retreated somewhere when he looked away. “Never mind them.” He closed the door. “It’s probably just my imagination. Sorry for bothering you. Actually, let me give you a tour of my house.”

They were already in the living room. There was a worn-out sofa and a loveseat, both in green, an average-sized television, and a rectangular coffee table.

“Underneath the stairs is the bathroom,” Bruno informed. “If you have to go, it’s right there. No need to head upstairs.”

Next, Bruno showed him the dining room and kitchen. The table with four chairs was dusty, and the pizza Bruno made was on the counter. Other than the dining room, the place seemed tidy so far.

Then Bruno took his hands and led him upstairs into a small hallway. “To the left is the bathroom, and the room further down to the left is my old room. The only door on the right is the room I currently sleep in. It’s a double bed, so there’s room for us both.”

Abbacchio went into the bedroom. It was too dark to see anything, but he placed his bag near the door and left. Then the two went downstairs, heading to the living room to watch the movie. Bruno inserted the DVD in the player and rushed to the kitchen to get the pizza.

He returned, placing the pizza on the coffee table. His stand carried two sodas and placed them down. The movie started, and Abbacchio took a bite of his pizza.

“Careful, it’s hot!” Bruno warned.

“Ah!” He burnt the roof of his mouth and then giggled nervously. “Oops.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Abbacchio blushed.

Time flew by, and they ate all the pizza. Abbacchio must’ve watched this a lot because he fell asleep on Bruno’s lap. While he slept, Bruno brushed his hair with his fingers. Right when something interesting was about to happen, he gently shook him awake.

“Did I miss it?” Abbacchio slowly rose.

“Nope. Sorry for waking you up.”

“No, you’re fine. Hey, Bruno, you got something on your cheek.”

“Hmm, where?” His hand hovered his face, ready to wipe it off.

“Over here.” Abbacchio kissed his cheek.

Bruno faced him and chuckled. “You also got something.”

“Where?”

Bruno kissed his lips and shoved him into the couch, kissing more of him in other places—his cheeks, neck, and chest. Abbacchio arms roamed his arms around his body and pulled him closer to deepen the kisses. The air was hot and heavy around them.

Then Bruno withdrew from the kiss and smiled. “Want to head into the bedroom?”

Abbacchio smiled back. “Of course.”

-

“Mista, what going on?” Narancia asked, struggling to get a view due to the home’s foundation. If only he were a few inches taller.

“Oh, it’s going how I thought I would!” Mista said, his voice loud.

“Quiet!” Narancia hushed him.

They were quiet, but neither Bruno nor Abbacchio heard them.

“Narancia, they’re going upstairs. Let’s break in!”

“Are you crazy? No way!”

“Did you know you’re wasting your time studying with Fugo? There’s so much on the internet, you know.” The gunslinger grew a sinister smile. “I know a website that can teach you things.”

“I don’t like using the computer. Those are for nerds like Fugo and Giorno. Besides, you’ll probably trick me into looking at an adult site.”

“I’m going to tell them you said that.”

“Fine, but this is messed up. What if we get caught? Why are you so interested in this?”

“I’ll tell them it’s my idea. Now hurry! Abbacchio needs guidance. Just don’t watch. Bruno and Abbacchio might get mad.”

They’ll get mad at you too. Narancia went to the door, unlocking it quickly with a clip. When he slowly opened the door, the hinges creaked.

“Dude, do you want us to get caught?” Mista complained.

He’d tell him to hush, but he didn’t want to make any more noise. And speaking of noises, they heard some water running upstairs.

“What’s going on? Are they taking a bath?” the gunslinger speculated enthusiastically.

“It’s nighttime. They’re brushing their teeth. Maybe we should wait a few minutes before heading upstairs.”

They stood near the bathroom under the stairs and heard Abbacchio and Bruno walking around. Mista, taking Narancia by the hand, went upstairs.

-

Bruno and Abbacchio continued making out until they ran out of breath. They were sweaty and panting. Bruno constantly tugged on his shirt to cool himself off.

“Leone, do you know you’re the first person I’ve kissed?”

“Really? You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

“I fooled around here and there, but I never kissed anyone. I didn’t want to, but I love kissing you. You’re a great kisser, by the way. Am I your first kiss?”

“No, I wish you were, though.”

“Oh, who was your first kiss?”

Abbacchio frowned. “It was my partner.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He silenced Bruno with a kiss. “Don’t worry about that.” He then wondered if his night would go down as Mista thought. He scooted closer to Bruno. “Do you want to—”

The hinges on the door squeaked, and the door was slightly open, causing both of them to be alert.

“What was that?” Abbacchio asked.

“I don’t know. I’ll check.” Bruno got up from the bed, summoned his stand, and slowly approached the door, opening it wide to reveal whoever was there. “No one. I guess the door decided to move on its own.”

Abbacchio sighed, tired. Maybe some other time, they’ll do it. “Goodnight. I love you.”

Bruno returned to bed, kissed him, and turned off the lights. He cuddled with Abbacchio under the warm and soft sheets. “I love you too.”

Illuso

Bruno was usually the first to wake up, but Leone didn’t lie next to him. He convinced himself it wasn’t a big deal, but he’s been waking up early lately, which wasn’t like him.

Hungry, Bruno got up and went to the kitchen, where Leone had already made a mushroom and sun-dried tomato omelet for the both of them. He found it strange. Bruno usually was the first to cook.

“What’s all this?” he inquired while pulling a chair to sit on.

“You usually cook, so I thought I’d try it,” Leone explained. “I hope you like it.”

He took a small bite, and it was better than his cooking. Strange, he never sees him cook.

“Wow. How did you manage to do this?”

“A friend taught me. He showed me how one day. It was when I forgot the lunch you made for me.”

“What’s your friend like?”

“Smart guy. He looks up information for cases. That’s all. Nothing much about him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Illuso. Why? Do you want to get cooking tips? I could ask for you.” Leone looked at the clock. “I should get ready to leave.”

He kissed Bruno’s cheek before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. After that and putting on his police uniform, he left, leaving Bruno alone with his thoughts.

Was Illuso the reason why Leone has been acting strange? Luckily for Bruno, he didn’t have to go to work today, but he wasn’t sure how he would investigate. Whoever this Illuso was, Bruno didn’t like him despite knowing little. It seems he would need to get close to this man, but Bruno couldn’t go into the police station without reason. He’ll need to think of something.

-

Bruno drove to the police station shortly after sitting around idiotically for half an hour. He had forgotten to ask what Leone should have for dinner. Of course, he could’ve called him and asked, but he had thought of an excuse should he ask. Hopefully, Leone was out on patrol and not inside.

Bruno parked in the parking garage, headed to the police station, and went up to the front desk, where a woman sat behind.

“Hello! How may I help you?” she asked.

“My husband is Leone Abbacchio. It’s not too important, but I was hoping to ask him what I should make for dinner,” Bruno explained. “Sorry to bother you.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him once he gets back. Leone is out on patrol right now.”

“You probably have more important things to remember. Perhaps I could speak to his friends?”

“Well, I guess I could—”

Leone barged in unexpectedly with someone cuffed, his mouth wide open when he saw Bruno. The lady behind the desk called for someone to get the cuffed person while Bruno and Leone spoke to each other.

“Why are you here? Did something happen?” asked Leone.

“No, I forgot to ask you what to make for dinner,” Bruno answered.

“You always cook. How about letting me worry about that?”

“Okay, but what are you going to make?”

“Hold on. Maybe Illuso might have some ideas. Could you wait a second?” Leone walked away.

Bruno tried not to look visibly upset. “Couldn’t I go with you?” He walked beside him. “You’ll be tired when you come back home. Let me cook. What would you like?”

Leone stopped. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe some risotto?” He turned around, heading for the exit.

“Wait, can I at least meet your friend first?” Bruno touched his shoulder.

He turned around again. “If you wanted to meet him, all you had to do was ask.”

Well, Bruno felt stupid. At least he’s getting closer to Illuso. “Where will we find him?”

“Ask Maria. That’s the lady at the desk. I need to go. I love you, Bruno!” He kissed his cheek before leaving.

Bruno went back to Maria. “Hey again! Do you know where Illuso’s at?”

“He should be in the archives. Someone will show you the way.”

An officer came by to guide Bruno around the police station, taking him to the archives, where Illuso was.

The archives was an average size room, and one person—besides Bruno and the officer—was there. He was tall, taller than him, and his hair was brown and in six pigtails. The brunette wore black pants and a white shirt, not a police uniform like the others. He had an apple in his hand, a fruit Bruno disliked. Illuso appeared to be going through some files.

Bruno cleared his throat to grab his attention.

“Give me a second. I’m looking through this file,” Illuso said.

He crossed his arms and tapped his legs.

“Be patient. I can see you in the security mirror.”

Bruno was so focused on Illuso that he didn’t even see that. He waited.

“There it is!” The brunette took out the file and turned around. His eyes were red. “Ah, and you must be Leone’s husband. I thought you’d look”—he moved his hands around while still holding the objects, struggling to find the words—“plainer.”

“Plainer?”

“Leone told me you were the son of a fisherman. Ah, never mind what I said. Anyways, It was nice to meet you.”

“Wait! I heard you’ve been giving cooking lessons to Leone.”

“Did you come all the way down here to thank me for that? You’re welcome! He told me you’re the one who usually cooks. I asked if he knew how, and he said no. Does he clean either?”

“No.”

“Well, he must be good in bed. Why would you marry someone like that?”

Bruno’s head turned red. “I—I got to go.”

Illuso giggled. “Ciao!”

Bruno quickly left the station and drove home. He hated Illuso and thought he was haughty and nosy. To get his mind off Illuso, Bruno made some risotto for dinner and waited for Leone to return home. He was taking too long for some reason, so he stayed in the living room.

Leone returned later than usual, making Bruno suspicious. He was exhausted and went straight to the dinner table to eat, unresponsive when Bruno welcomed him home.

Bruno would’ve said something, but he was tired from seething and went to bed. His husband joined him.

“Goodnight. I love you, Leone.”

“Night. Love you, Illuso.”

Bruno was wide awake, heartbroken, and ready to yell at him, but Leone had fallen asleep while still wearing his uniform. He understood being tired, but calling him the wrong name? No, there was no excuse. Bruno quietly got away from him and slept on the couch in the living room.

-

Bruno woke up and went to the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge.

I’m aware that you’ve slept on the couch. My reason why you would be sleeping there is that I was too exhausted to change. I’m sorry if it was uncomfortable to cuddle with me. I’ve been busy with work, and they’re still letting me work early. I miss working late. Speaking of late, I’m already late for work. I called your work and said that you were sick. Don’t worry. For dinner, Illuso is going to teach me something at his house. I’ll clean up the house tomorrow. I don’t have work.

Love,

Leone

He sighed and threw the note in the trash. It looked like he’ll need to find Illuso’s house. Bruno used his laptop to search for information about Illuso and found his address. Next, he looked at the map to his house from the station and estimated how long it would take for Leone and Illuso to head to his home.

Since Leone came home around 3 PM lately, Bruno decided he should leave near that time. Passing the time, he drove to the gym, thinking he’ll need strength to beat Illuso. When it was time to head to Illuso’s house, Bruno left the gym and drove there. However, his muscles ached once he got to the apartment complex, and he was too tired to do anything else. For now, he’ll eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Are you sure about this soup?” he heard Leone’s voice. “It has beans, and Bruno’s not a fan of that.”

“Would you recommend tomato soup and grilled cheese?” Illuso questioned.

“I guess. That doesn’t sound bad. It’s been a while since we had that. It’s not Bruno’s favorite, but—”

Leone was quiet for some reason.

“Who are those people?” Leone asked.

“Oh, those two? They’re my boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends? You have two?”

“Yes, I have two. You seem shocked. Have you thought about having another lover? How would Bruno react to that?”

“I’m loyal to Bruno and Bruno only. Besides, threes a crowd.”

Now he felt incredibly foolish. Bruno stopped eavesdropping and headed back home until he heard Illuso’s door open.

“Ah, Bruno!” Leone said. “What are you doing here? You look exhausted. Did something happen?”

He was tired to speak, and his stomach growled.

“Oh, you’re hungry! You must’ve asked Maria where Illuso lived.” Leone dragged Bruno inside. “Come on in. I know you don’t like beans, but do you want to try this soup?” He sat him down at the table.

Bruno blinked tiredly.

“I’ll make some celery soup,” Illuso said. “I did some research, and it makes you sleep better.”

“Alright. Hey, Illuso, you don’t mind if we crash tonight, do you? I don’t know where Bruno parked, and he doesn’t look like he should drive.”

“Sure. Make yourselves right at home. The soup will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Hey, Bruno,” Leone whispered. “This guy has two boyfriends. I wonder if either of them gets jealous. Speaking of jealousy, that Giorno guy that works with you, I don’t like him. Could you stop talking about him during dinner?”

“...” Bruno stared at him. “I’ll try to remember.”

BruAbba, Hugging

 

Wallflower

Abbacchio was at a party that one of his friends from work threw, standing near the kitchen. One of the cops arrested a drug dealer that kept slipping away from them, and to celebrate it, they threw a party. He thought it was going to be a small party amongst co-workers, but the cop invited lots of citizens to join.

Instead of watching soccer on the TV and some snacks at work, it was a party with colorful lights and a DJ in the cop’s large home. It was too much. Some of the citizens who attended have hounded Abbacchio at some point about some minor crime he failed to stop. He had his back to the wall, staying away from the crowd. Then his partner came over to him.

“Leone, why are you standing there?” he asked with a smile. “Come on! Mingle with somebody!”

“I doubt these people like me here,” Abbacchio answered. “I’ll finish the alcohol, so nobody drives home drunk. It’s the least I can do.” He poured some unnamed alcohol into his red cup. There were two juice fountains labeled alcoholic and non-alcoholic.

“That’s a lot of alcohol.” He looked worried. “Who’s going to drive you home?”

“Guess I’ll pass out here.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Well, I’m not going to get plastered. I just have no idea what to do at a party. The music is alright, but I expected this to be smaller, as in just us cops.”

“You know how Officer Varano is.”

“Right.” Abbacchio continued drinking.

“I’m going to go now. Make sure not to die of alcohol poisoning!”

“I have a high tolerance!” he yelled before his partner disappeared into the crowd.

Abbacchio yawned and tried to find a way to entertain himself. He tapped his foot to the lively beat of the music, and his eyes wandered around, watching the lights beam in people’s faces. Not much was going on, and he was bored.

Eyeing around for something interesting, he noticed a guy wearing an all-white suit dancing around. The dancer was slim, and his black hair was about chin-length. The guy allured Abbacchio, but the cop wasn’t sure if he should approach him. No, he’ll stay and watch. He liked the way he swayed.

The dancer turned around, and he got to see his handsome face and his ocean-blue eyes. Beautiful, Abbacchio thought, gently biting his lips. However, this dancer also made eye contact and started to approach him. Abbacchio stopped biting his lip, looked away, and stared at the pool outside from the window.

“Hey, I’m Bruno, and you are?” he asked.

Oh, no! He’s speaking to me! “Um…” he said nervously, still looking away.

“I saw you staring.” He heard a chuckle. “You look bored. Come dance with me.”

He made eye contact. “I’m Leone Abbacchio, a police officer. I’m also not much of a dancer. I’m more of a drinker.”

“Have you tried dancing while drunk?”

“No, I—whoa!”

Bruno took one of his arms, causing Abbacchio to drop and spill his drink, and dragged him into the crowd. “It’ll be fun!”

Abbacchio tried to retreat, but a crowd surrounded him, and he was afraid to shove them aside in case some of them would remember and berate him.

“Um, what do I do? I never danced before,” Abbacchio told him.

“Move your legs and go with the beat. Try your arms too.”

“What if people see me?”

“They probably won’t. People are either dancing, talking, or drinking. Maybe a combination of those three, but don’t worry about what people think.”

He did as Bruno said and felt silly, but it was better than what he was doing earlier. “This isn’t bad.”

“See?” Bruno danced with him. “So, you’re a cop?”

“Yeah. What are you? A dancer?”

He giggled. “Nope, would you believe me if I told you I was a simple fisherman?”

“What? No way. You’re a pretty good dancer.”

“What was that? You think I’m pretty?”

Abbacchio blushed. “Well, um—uh. What I meant was—”

“I heard what you said.” Bruno giggled and got closer. “I just wanted to hear that. But did you mean that?”

“Yeah.”

Bruno’s stomach growled. “I think I’ve been dancing for a while. I need a snack. You were in the kitchen before. What sounds good?” He grabbed his hand and broke into the crowd.

“There were mini sandwiches, vegetables and dip, and some pretzels.”

“Mini sandwiches sound good. What about the drinks?”

“There’s fruit punch and beer.”

“Fruit punch?” Bruno scoffed. “Is this a party for kids? I’m not much of a drinker, but I guess I’ll have some beer.”

They were now in the kitchen. The pretzels were gone, and half of the mini sandwiches were also. Hardly anyone touched the vegetables.

“Wow, nobody wanted to eat their vegetables. I think I’ll take one sandwich and some vegetables,” Bruno said.

“I was hoping there would be a few pretzels left.” Abbacchio grabbed two cups and poured some beer. “Ha! There’s still beer left!”

“You sure you don’t want any sandwiches?”

“I’ll be fine. Plus, I have a high tolerance for alcohol.”

“Do you?” Bruno doubted.

“Yeah, watch.”

Abbacchio downed at least two drinks.

“You look a little tipsy,” Bruno commented.

“I’m fine.” Abbacchio wobbled a bit.

“How many times did you refill before this?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“You should probably stop.”

Abbacchio’s vision blurred a bit, but he smiled dumbly at him. Then somebody bumped into the cop, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto Bruno. Bruno caught him.

“Are you alright?”

Abbacchio didn’t say anything but closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss.

He kissed him briefly, and once the cop opened his eyes, they made eye contact.

“I think I love you,” Abbacchio said.

“I love you too.” Bruno kissed him again. “Hey, I have to go. I told you I was a simple fisherman, but I’m studying to become something more. I’d like to see you again. Don’t you forget my name!”

“Wait!” Abbacchio grabbed his arm before he could leave. “What’s your last name?”

“Bucciarati.”

“Bucciarati, don’t forget my name either.”

After he left, Abbacchio felt drained and passed out. When he woke up, it was morning, and his partner stood beside him, arms crossed.

“Didn’t I tell you not to get plastered?” said his partner. He helped Abbacchio get up.

“Ugh, yeah. There was this guy—wait, did you stay here?”

“Varano wanted me to stay and watch over you.”