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Hey Jealousy
Title: Hey Jealousy
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Prosciutto, Abbacchio, Buccellati
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci, onesided Abbacchio/Buccellati, onesided Prosciutto/Pesci
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 520
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Prosciutto and Abbacchio have a number of things in common, and the focus still hasn't come back to Pesci in Pesci's fic.
Notes: I did not forget to post this either.
Abbacchio carefully sets down his glass of wine when the door opens. “One of the assassins, aren’t you? What do you want?”
“I have a name. Prosciutto. Remember it in the future.” Prosciutto surveys the room. “This is meant to be Buccellati’s office, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, Buccellati is currently out of the building. He assigned me to take care of his affairs in the meantime, so if you have something to say to him, I’d like to hear it.” Abbacchio sips his wine again.
“I’d prefer to deliver my mission reports to him personally, and not to an underling.” Prosciutto folds his arms, careful not to crinkle the paper he’s holding.
Abbacchio doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Very well. You’ll be waiting for his return for a long time.”
“Believe me, I know very well how long he takes with his…” Prosciutto hesitates before grumbling, “Dates.”
“And I’m sure that’s not the fault of your Pesci,” says Abbacchio, voice flat.
Prosciutto scoffs. “You know his name and not mine?”
“It’s my business to keep a tab on who Buccellati spends his time with, particularly suspicious characters,” Abbacchio says. “Naturally, I know his name.”
“The suspicious character,” says Prosciutto, “is your Buccellati. I have to keep an eye on him at all times to keep my Pesci safe.”
Abbacchio considers this, then pours a second glass of wine. “Have a seat.”
Prosciutto inspects the room and seat for signs of danger before finally sitting down. The wine seems legitimate, neither poisoned nor any other undesirable substance. Abbacchio had been drinking it himself a moment prior, after all.
“Prosciutto, was it?” Abbacchio asks while Prosciutto carefully sips. “We might have a few things in common.”
It’s several hours later that Buccellati returns to his office. The first thing he notices is several empty wine bottles on the floor; the second, Abbacchio and Prosciutto speaking animatedly across from each other at his desk.
“I don’t understand it, how they ever got involved in the first place- oh, Buccellati,” says Prosciutto, looking blearily at him as he approaches. “We were just talking about you!”
“Please break up with him,” says Abbacchio, waving a hand vaguely in the air. “I asked nicely.”
“No. I’ve told you before not to drink so much,” says Buccellati. “Don’t bring this much alcohol into my office, you’ll leave stains and you’ll embarrass yourself. Prosciutto, I assume you originally came by to leave a mission report?”
Prosciutto fishes through the mess of papers on the desk before finding his mission report. “Here it is.”
“Thank you. Will you need help getting back home?”
Prosciutto shakes his head. “I’m not that drunk. Not drunk enough to take help from you.”
Buccellati says nothing, only steadies Prosciutto as he slumps past him. When the door shuts, he turns back to Abbacchio. “I had no idea you’d get along so well.” Abbacchio grumbles and holds a hand to his head, and Buccellati sighs and goes to offer him a shoulder to lean on. “How many times will you do this?”
“It’s not so bad,” Abbacchio murmurs, head tucked against Buccellati. “Not until the hangover.”
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Prosciutto, Abbacchio, Buccellati
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci, onesided Abbacchio/Buccellati, onesided Prosciutto/Pesci
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 520
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Prosciutto and Abbacchio have a number of things in common, and the focus still hasn't come back to Pesci in Pesci's fic.
Notes: I did not forget to post this either.
Abbacchio carefully sets down his glass of wine when the door opens. “One of the assassins, aren’t you? What do you want?”
“I have a name. Prosciutto. Remember it in the future.” Prosciutto surveys the room. “This is meant to be Buccellati’s office, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, Buccellati is currently out of the building. He assigned me to take care of his affairs in the meantime, so if you have something to say to him, I’d like to hear it.” Abbacchio sips his wine again.
“I’d prefer to deliver my mission reports to him personally, and not to an underling.” Prosciutto folds his arms, careful not to crinkle the paper he’s holding.
Abbacchio doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Very well. You’ll be waiting for his return for a long time.”
“Believe me, I know very well how long he takes with his…” Prosciutto hesitates before grumbling, “Dates.”
“And I’m sure that’s not the fault of your Pesci,” says Abbacchio, voice flat.
Prosciutto scoffs. “You know his name and not mine?”
“It’s my business to keep a tab on who Buccellati spends his time with, particularly suspicious characters,” Abbacchio says. “Naturally, I know his name.”
“The suspicious character,” says Prosciutto, “is your Buccellati. I have to keep an eye on him at all times to keep my Pesci safe.”
Abbacchio considers this, then pours a second glass of wine. “Have a seat.”
Prosciutto inspects the room and seat for signs of danger before finally sitting down. The wine seems legitimate, neither poisoned nor any other undesirable substance. Abbacchio had been drinking it himself a moment prior, after all.
“Prosciutto, was it?” Abbacchio asks while Prosciutto carefully sips. “We might have a few things in common.”
It’s several hours later that Buccellati returns to his office. The first thing he notices is several empty wine bottles on the floor; the second, Abbacchio and Prosciutto speaking animatedly across from each other at his desk.
“I don’t understand it, how they ever got involved in the first place- oh, Buccellati,” says Prosciutto, looking blearily at him as he approaches. “We were just talking about you!”
“Please break up with him,” says Abbacchio, waving a hand vaguely in the air. “I asked nicely.”
“No. I’ve told you before not to drink so much,” says Buccellati. “Don’t bring this much alcohol into my office, you’ll leave stains and you’ll embarrass yourself. Prosciutto, I assume you originally came by to leave a mission report?”
Prosciutto fishes through the mess of papers on the desk before finding his mission report. “Here it is.”
“Thank you. Will you need help getting back home?”
Prosciutto shakes his head. “I’m not that drunk. Not drunk enough to take help from you.”
Buccellati says nothing, only steadies Prosciutto as he slumps past him. When the door shuts, he turns back to Abbacchio. “I had no idea you’d get along so well.” Abbacchio grumbles and holds a hand to his head, and Buccellati sighs and goes to offer him a shoulder to lean on. “How many times will you do this?”
“It’s not so bad,” Abbacchio murmurs, head tucked against Buccellati. “Not until the hangover.”