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Fugo, Giorno, Mista and Narancia sat in the living room in silence. After what had happened earlier (ruining Bruno's food) and them ending up in unzipped pieces, they deserve the rest. Abbacchio's missing and Trish is in another room but that's fine.
"Glue isn't that bad, just distasteful."
Narancia stuck his tongue after spitting the glue out.
"Wanna eat candles instead?" Mista asked, already standing up from the chair.
"Sure, let's go to the kitchen."
Giorno sat on the couch, looking at his boyfriend (definitely just him, not his ass) following Narancia into the kitchen. He sighed.
"It's alright, they look pretty." Fugo sighed dreamily next to Giorno. "I can forgive them eating glue."
Fugo and Giorno proceeded to stare into what they thought were their respective dumbass boyfriends but were actually the void. Doesn't matter, both are the same anyways.
It didn't take too long for smoke to escape from the kitchen and screams began to fill the air, leading to the two blonds to crash back into the reality.
Fugo sighed, extending his hand to in front of Giorno's face. "How much are you willing to bet it's mine?"
Giorno said nothing as he took off the small butterfly hair clip from the cluster of butterfly hair clips with pieces of leaves in them, turning them back into money. Handing over the money to Fugo, he sighed knowing the inevitable.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY HAIRRR!!" Narancia screamed, running out from the kitchen and into a circle. Mista followed suit.
Trish bursted into the room with a fire blanket on one hand and a bucket of water in the other, which was now empty. She threw the blanket on top of Narancia but grimaced when she saw the empty bucket, throwing it and hitting Mista on the head with a clang.
"TRISH…! OH THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE PLEASE HELP ME I NEED ONE TOO-"
"Burn."
:,0
Giorno ran to Mista and covered him in a hug, Golden Experience in the other. Vines fell from between them and Mista's crying began to cease.
"This may look odd," Giorno announced, arms still around a very charred Mista and pressed to his chest. "But it's simply because Mista doesn't want to be seen with his hat off."
Fugo, Narancia and Trish saw right through his bullshit. Touch starved gay ass.
Narancia was covered in his blanket like a cocoon thanks to Trish, sniffling. Trish crouched down next to him and gave him pats like she wasn't about to murder him earlier for stealing her things because it's her boyfriend, of course she loves him.
While all that happened, Fugo heard something moving in the closet. His mind went places.
Whispers and clangs continued from inside the closet before it stopped for a moment and the door began to open and two very disheveled men walk out with lipstick stains.
"Okay, let's pretend like we were not making out-"
The kitchen is still on fire.
"Aha!" Fugo is grimacing at them while pointing accusingly. "You two are making out in the closet!"
"Ignore that," Abbacchio scoffed, the smaller hint of blush on his cheeks. Staying on this topic isn't going to help. "What happened to the kitchen?!"
"It was destroyed." Giorno answered, Mista still very much not 5ft apart from him.
"...by the power of gay." Narancia quietly sobbed.
"Understandable but not acceptable." Bruno sighed, shaking his head like a disappointed mother. "The kitchen is literally still on fire."
Bruno stood in the "I'm not angry, just disappointed" mom pose and tapped his feet with his arms crossed.
"You can't walk away like this without consequences."
"Oh no." Trish winced.
"A punishment?!" Fugo yelled hysterically, widening his arms to point at a sniffling Narancia. "Look at Narancia! Look at him!"
*sobs*
"Hasn't he suffered enough, Bucciarati?!" Fugo italianed with that one Italian gesture hand thing.
Abbacchio stared at him with concern.
"...why are you speaking English?"
"Does it matter?! My boyfriend is suffering and you have the audacity to give us punishments!"
"It won't be much, Fugo. You only have to…" Bruno took a deep breath, the pain still lingered on. "Cook meatballs."
Fear struck Abbacchio's heart.
"No, Bucciarati, that's too much."
"Yeah, it's not even our fault that your meatballs were ruined." Fugo sneered, arms on his side like that Asian mom cooking pose before pointing one hand to the girl next to him. "It was Trish!"
Crack.
"Oh, excuse me?!" Trish glared at him, teeth gritting and blood boiling. "Weren't you the one who tried to defend a thief who stole my hairspray?!"
Soon enough, their voices overlapped and begun their usual banters. Narancia shrunk further into his fire blanket like it was the most comforting thing in the world.
Mista was still handled closer to Giorno's chest, pouting. "I wasn't even responsible for anything. It's not my fault I found out your birthday was on the 16th of April of all days…"
"Wait, is that what you were having a meltdown over?"
"Yeah, sorry."
I think they made out.
Fugo and Trish's banter soon sounded like a bunch of yelling and screaming and the word meatball being thrown around every 3 seconds.
"Oh yeah? Weren't you the one that dropped the plates?! And ruined Bucciarati's MEATBALLS?!"
"If you just handed me back my hairspray, his MEATBALLS wouldn't be ruined!"
"YOU TWO, STOP TALKING ABOUT BUCCIARATI'S MEATBALLS!" Abbacchio shouted, silencing them. "He's still healing!"
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Narancia scoffed. "I bet the meatballs weren't even that good-"
Bruno's eyelid twitched. That's it. He had enough.
"STICKY FINGERS!!"