Chapter Text
Sleep never came easy to Giorno. He always found himself staying up for days on end and at this point, he didn’t even bother to try and give an explanation to his housemates. To them, it was another weird thing their don just happened to do. And they weren’t wrong, he knew his nightly routines weren’t considered normal. Most people didn’t give their pets a midnight snack and water change. Or just before dozing off to sleep, having an urge to clear a stack of paperwork.Or spend a couple of nights learning how to sneak around every room of the house, which he got the hang of rather quickly. But all of these nightly activities had the same cause, nightmares. That was something Giorno knew all too well, no matter how much he denied it. It was the reason he hated sleeping so much, part of him wishes he didn’t have to sleep at all, at least he’d be more useful that way. For now, he would just have to continue lying and put on more makeup to cover his growing eye bags every day.
“How long can you keep this up?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about GioGio.” Fugo had been standing by his office, leaning over his desk with a frown Giorno hadn’t quite deciphered that morning. Fugo signed through his nose before continuing. “It’s obvious you haven’t been sleeping. Your concealer is sloppy.”
Giorno just looked at him, smirking at his secretary ever so slightly. “Since when were you a make-up expert?” He sassed.
Fugo tossed him an annoyed expression. “I’m not, which makes it even worse if someone foreign to the subject can point it out.”
Giorno ignored him and went back to work.
Fugo let out another sigh, to release some steam from the rising frustration. Then he continued. “I could walk out of here and tell them.”
That made Giorno look up.
“Bucciarati would be more than happy to take the work you’re doing right now.” Fugo continues, following the workaholic’s glare, “And I’m sure if he found out, he wouldn’t let you come back to this room after a week’s rest.”
Giorno stared at the boy for a bit longer, then rolled his eyes. “That scare tactic won’t work on me Panna.”
“Wh-that wasn’t to scare you!” As Fugo’s anger began to bubble, he started to yell. He had to take a moment to reign himself in before continuing. “I’m worried about you. That’s all.”
The don goes to speak but Fugo waves his hand before Giorno can even make a sound. “I mean it. I don’t want you to work yourself thin. No one does.”
Giorno averted his gaze and nodded, hesitant to admit it. Fugo lets out yet another sigh, this one nervous, and makes what could be considered a bold move, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. The two just look at each other, one easily reading his worried expression, the other reading his defeated gaze that he was trying to store away. After having learned that, Fugo felt his frustration turn to understanding. He decided to break the silence with a compromise.
“Just...promise me that you’ll either take a nap soon or actually go to sleep tonight.”
Giorno thought about it and nodded slowly. “Ok. I’ll get a full night’s rest, I promise.”
Fugo smiled softly at that, proud of his work. Giorno was also proud of his work, saying the right thing that appeased him that morning. But putting that into practice proved a lot harder than he thought. It wasn’t as simple as asking for another cup of hot chocolate. That only got him a few more minutes of rest before the nightly terrors crept up on him and left him gasping for air again. So he resumed his normal schedule of doing paperwork, hoping he would fall asleep on his desk. Instead, he was met with a nightmare every time he drifted off to sleep. He didn’t know how many jumpscares he had, but when he looked over to the blue clock on his desk, he knew it was way too early to be up. He could count the hours he had left until his alarm rang on one hand. Giorno groaned and smacked his head on the table.
“Fucking useless.” The sleep deprived don chided himself. He knew Fugo was going to be hurt once he saw Giorno’s sorry ass in the morning because he failed to keep his promise. Then Fugo would have to give him another lecture about how vital sleep is to running a mafia well, how his body needed sleep to function, all the same things the don had to sit though. He was so tired of it all, but unable to do something as simple as fall asleep. The state of his situation made it all the more challenging to think properly, which would be the most logical explanation Giorno could come up with when he found himself arriving in Bruno and Abbacchio’s doorway.
Giorno looked around the room, scanning for any unreliable floorboards before approaching the bed. He stopped just at the foot of the bed, staring at the peacefully sleeping couple, the duo who took it upon themselves to care for him and the other members of the household. Giorno had tried multiple times to pry out some sort of tangible, familiar truth other adults in his life had told him was the correct way to receive love, if he deserved it. But time and time again, those two ripped up every opportunity to punish him for his mistakes, only saying “it’s ok, it happens to the best of us” and “accidents happen, everyone has to make them eventually” and Giorno was grateful for their generosity. As he climbed in the space between Bruno and Abbacchio, he hoped they would show the same generosity and if not, he had planned to quickly head off his room before either man roused. Just 5 minutes, that’s all it would be.
But what Giorno didn’t anticipate was Abbacchio’s nightly routine of he called, “Dramatic Goth Reading”.
Well after Giorno passed out, the goth woke up to the light of the moonlight. Abbacchio muffled his yawn and turned to who he thought was Bruno hugging him, but ended up to be the golden brat himself.
"Mm- the fuck did this one start crawling into bed?” He muttered to himself, barely awake.
He looked around for anything out of place that Giorno could’ve brought in to further ruin the goth’s hair. Since that day, Abbacchio had been taking three showers per day in an effort to make the magenta dye go away faster. It was sort of working, his hair currently a baby pink, but not the striking white he had before. It frustrated him to no end, and the person responsible had the audacity to try to pull some more bullshit? No. Not tonight. Abbacchio pushed Giorno off him and onto Bruno instead.
Giorno whined at that and made grabby hands for Abbacchio. In that moment, Abbacchio could see a flicker of innocence from when the boy was four. His breath stifled, instantly regretting his actions. He watched Giorno curl up on Bruno but still had his hand reached out to his side of the bed. Then he huffed, patting the kid’s hand before getting out of bed.
Bruno groaned, half woken up from all the rustling of bed sheets and the weight on his chest. He looked around the room, watching Abbacchio go to their closet in search of his favorite black bathrobe with decorative lace his partner described as “elegantly goth”. Then he noticed the lump of gold sleeping on his chest. He awed, forgetting about his earlier annoyances. He went to run his fingers through Giorno’s curly hair when he stopped at the cluster of knots at Giorno’s braid.
Did Giorno always sleep with his braid in?
Bruno watched the kid’s face scrunch up and try to adjust his position to one where he didn’t have his hair in the way. At that moment he opened a zipper and grabbed a hair brush. Then he worked at Giorno’s hair, unbraiding it and brushing the golden curls gently. Thankfully the knots weren’t too tight so the pulls wouldn’t wake the boy up. When Bruno was done and the curls were knot free, he ran his hand through it, rubbing Giorno’s head affectionately. Giorno relaxed at the touch, his body slumping over Bruno. The other man smiled softly and kept up the soothing motion.
Abbacchio finished putting on his bathrobe and went to Bruno’s side.
“I’ve got him, go back to sleep” he said before leaning over and giving Bruno a kiss. Bruno nodded as Abbacchio picked up Giorno, carefully avoiding his scar littered back.
He goes downstairs and into the kitchen to grab some grape juice. It wasn’t the same as wine on a clear night but he intended to keep his word, without any exceptions. Sleeping kid in one arm and drink in the other, Abbacchio made his way to the sofa, which had a book he was reading a couple of nights before. Thankfully, the bookmark was still in place. He sighed and put his drink by the table next to it, as well as that book. Abbacchio sits down, shifting Giorno off his arm to his lap. Once the kid was settled, the goth picked up his reading, starting from the page he left on.
The rest of the night was peaceful and quiet. However, something felt off. He looked down at Giorno, who was practically rattling against his chest. Abbacchio’s first instinct was to get a blanket but he took a moment to think. Tonight was warm. So Giorno’s shivers were probably from something else, something that he had a sinking feeling about. So he rocks on the sofa. Of course, the sofa can't rock much but it still has some leeway for adjustments. However, that doesn’t stop Giorno’s shaking.
Abbacchio sighs, actually feeling bad for the poor kid. Then it hit him. Narancia also came to him for nightmares. And Leone always sang him the song that his mother sang and her mother before her sang. It’s always worked wonders before, why wouldn’t it work now? So he looks around, making sure no one else is awake besides him. When he’s sure he’s alone, Abbacchio holds the sleeping Giorno and starts to sing, rubbing his head gently.
♪ Fai la ninna fai la nanna
con'sto figlio non c'è più pace
Fai la ninna fai la nanna
pupo bello della mamma
Ninna oh, ninna oh
Lo daremo alla Befana
che lo tenghi una settimana
Lo daremo all'omo nero
Che lo tenghi l'anno intero
Ninna oh, ninna oh
Fai la ninna, fai la nanna
pupo bello della mamma
Lo daremo alla Befana
Che pazienza che ci vo'
Ninna oh, ninna oh
Fai la ninna, fai la nanna ♪
By the time the song is done, Giorno is sleeping peacefully, snuggled in Abbacchio’s chest. The goth melts at the sight of the kid, feeling a mix of relief and parental pride that he swore he’d never feel. Giving into the moment, Abbacchio gives Giorno a soft kiss on his forehead, as an extra memento for sweet dreams.
After that the rest of the night goes by normally, Abbacchio reads a bit more of his book and finishes on a page he’ll make sure to come back to the next night. He puts the book mark in between the pages and puts the book back on the side table, along with his empty glass of grape juice. He hoists up the kid from his lap into his arms and stands up to go back to bed. That's when he saw Bruno leaning on the wall, giving him a smug but proud smile. Based on the dried tear stains that still colored his beaming cheeks, he saw everything.
No words could describe the utter horror Abbacchio felt at that moment, or how quickly his paper white face turned bright red, burning at who knows what temperatures of embarrassment.
In spite of that, Bruno repressed the urge to burst into laughter for both Leone’s and Giorno’s sake. Instead he asked the goth, "What happened to you hating his guts?"
"Shut up, I still hate him" Abbacchio spat back with his usual scowl.
"Riiiiight", Bruno’s grin turns into a cheeky one.
Abbacchio growled at that, half wishing he could drop Giorno in front of his partner. But a large part of him would feel guilty for doing all that shit to help the brat sleep and then tearing it all away. And that’s not even thinking about how Giorno would feel, which is something Abbacchio didn’t really want to think about. So he takes a deep breath and glares down at the smaller man.
“You don’t tell anyone about this. This is between you and me only.”
Bruno hums, playfully pretending to be in thought.
“I don’t know Leone, this would be a very interesting story to tell at breakfast.”
“Bruno fucking Bucciarati”, the taller man growls, which just gets the latter to let out some of his giggles.
“Relax, of course I won't tell anyone!”
“Promise?”
“I swear on it.” Bruno looked at Abbacchio earnestly, all jokes aside. And that was all the goth needed to calm down. Bruno sighed and stretched his arms out.
“Now then. I assume you’re also ready to go back to sleep?”
Abbacchio yawned and nodded, “Yea, I think that was enough reading and singing for one night.”
“Well, I found it to be quite beautiful.” Bruno replied honestly. “You truly have a gift amore.”
“Thanks but I prefer to be known as the scary mafia man and not the rejected chorus adult.”
Once again, Bruno let some giggles spill but this time Abbacchio joined him, finding his joke to be sorta funny.
They each wrap an arm around the other’s waist and walk back to the bedroom, climbing back under the sheets. Both men tuck Giorno snug between them and then they all fall asleep together.