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Reckoning
Title: Reckoning
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Prosciutto, Buccellati
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 505
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: What's worth Buccellati texting Prosciutto about?
Notes: This is a little early for this movie to be out but, shhhh.
Prosciutto rarely receives texts from Buccellati, so it’s a surprise when he sees Buccellati’s number has sent him one.
We should not have gone to the movie theater.
Prosciutto tenses. Pesci is there with him. If they’ve been attacked… but no, if they were attacked, that would not be the message he would send. It certainly would not be capitalized and punctuated if they were in need of immediate help.
what happened, he texts back, remaining calm for now.
His phone beeps again a few minutes later. I’ll tell you when we get back.
Not exactly the most reassuring thing to say. Prosciutto texts a quick, i’m at hq and paces around as he waits for their arrival.
It takes fifteen more minutes, but eventually, Buccellati is at the door. “I dropped Pesci off at his place,” he says, leaning on the doorframe. “He’s fine now.”
“What’s this about?” Prosciutto asks.
“Do not see a movie called Finding Nemo. Or at least don’t see it with Pesci.” At Prosciutto’s blank stare, Buccellati goes on. “Pesci cried throughout a great deal of the movie. He identified very strongly with the young clownfish who is captured and dumped in a fish tank, and you with the father fish trying to find him. Apparently I am similar to the leader of the pet fish, and I don’t know if that’s for purely color scheme reasons or if he’s heavily invested in the relationships between fictional talking animals.”
“Pesci cries easily at movies,” Prosciutto says, starting to relax. “This happens frequently.”
“I haven’t cried at a Disney film since I was fourteen, when Mufasa died.” Buccellati rubs his forehead and closes his eyes. “I should have picked a different film.”
“Buccellati.” At Prosciutto’s stern tone, Buccellati looks at him again. Prosciutto goes on. “If he cried, it means he was heavily invested, and he enjoyed it. You chose well.” He has no idea why he’s reassuring Buccellati of all people about this of all things.
Buccellati relaxes after hearing that. “You think so?”
“You might be dating him,” says Prosciutto, “but I will always have known him longer than you have. Remember that.”
“I’ll remember.” There’s a slight smile on Buccellati’s face.
Prosciutto turns away. “Why did you feel you needed to text me?” He certainly isn’t one of Buccellati’s close friends.
“I use hardly any of my monthly texts, so I thought I’d get in the habit of texting the family about less important things,” says Buccellati. “And you are part of the family, so we should try not to hate each other. Though, I’ve never hated you in the first place.”
Prosciutto looks down at his hands. Buccellati is someone who’s defeated him, humiliated him, and stolen much of Pesci’s attention away from him, but...
“...I don’t hate you.” It’s an embarrassing admission even when mumbled, and he’s relieved he doesn’t have to make it in front of anyone else. “But I don’t like you either.”
“That’s good enough.”
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo
Character(s): Prosciutto, Buccellati
Pairing(s): Buccellati/Pesci
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 505
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: What's worth Buccellati texting Prosciutto about?
Notes: This is a little early for this movie to be out but, shhhh.
Prosciutto rarely receives texts from Buccellati, so it’s a surprise when he sees Buccellati’s number has sent him one.
We should not have gone to the movie theater.
Prosciutto tenses. Pesci is there with him. If they’ve been attacked… but no, if they were attacked, that would not be the message he would send. It certainly would not be capitalized and punctuated if they were in need of immediate help.
what happened, he texts back, remaining calm for now.
His phone beeps again a few minutes later. I’ll tell you when we get back.
Not exactly the most reassuring thing to say. Prosciutto texts a quick, i’m at hq and paces around as he waits for their arrival.
It takes fifteen more minutes, but eventually, Buccellati is at the door. “I dropped Pesci off at his place,” he says, leaning on the doorframe. “He’s fine now.”
“What’s this about?” Prosciutto asks.
“Do not see a movie called Finding Nemo. Or at least don’t see it with Pesci.” At Prosciutto’s blank stare, Buccellati goes on. “Pesci cried throughout a great deal of the movie. He identified very strongly with the young clownfish who is captured and dumped in a fish tank, and you with the father fish trying to find him. Apparently I am similar to the leader of the pet fish, and I don’t know if that’s for purely color scheme reasons or if he’s heavily invested in the relationships between fictional talking animals.”
“Pesci cries easily at movies,” Prosciutto says, starting to relax. “This happens frequently.”
“I haven’t cried at a Disney film since I was fourteen, when Mufasa died.” Buccellati rubs his forehead and closes his eyes. “I should have picked a different film.”
“Buccellati.” At Prosciutto’s stern tone, Buccellati looks at him again. Prosciutto goes on. “If he cried, it means he was heavily invested, and he enjoyed it. You chose well.” He has no idea why he’s reassuring Buccellati of all people about this of all things.
Buccellati relaxes after hearing that. “You think so?”
“You might be dating him,” says Prosciutto, “but I will always have known him longer than you have. Remember that.”
“I’ll remember.” There’s a slight smile on Buccellati’s face.
Prosciutto turns away. “Why did you feel you needed to text me?” He certainly isn’t one of Buccellati’s close friends.
“I use hardly any of my monthly texts, so I thought I’d get in the habit of texting the family about less important things,” says Buccellati. “And you are part of the family, so we should try not to hate each other. Though, I’ve never hated you in the first place.”
Prosciutto looks down at his hands. Buccellati is someone who’s defeated him, humiliated him, and stolen much of Pesci’s attention away from him, but...
“...I don’t hate you.” It’s an embarrassing admission even when mumbled, and he’s relieved he doesn’t have to make it in front of anyone else. “But I don’t like you either.”
“That’s good enough.”