Chapter Text
“Hey. Panini. Heeey.” Mista wouldn’t stop poking at Fugo, or calling him that stupid nickname. He’d been doing it all day- from the moment the albino had dropped his coffee cup because of his stupid shaky hands to now, when Fugo couldn’t do his paperwork, also because of his stupid shaky hands.
“I hope you fall out of a window and die.” He’d had enough of Mista’s bullshit. “What the hell is your deal Fugo, that's so mean.” Whined Mista, feigning betrayal. “I’m a recovering drug addict. What do you want from me.” Replied Fugo, who was now staring at his desk miserably. The quirks of withdrawal. He sighed, turning towards Mista, who was still pretending to pout.
“Why don’t you go bother Giorno? I’m sure he would love to spend time with someone.” The younger suggested, gesturing to the boss, who was currently passed out on his desk in the corner of the room. Mista groaned at the idea.
“GioGio is great and all, but the guy couldn’t make a joke to save his life. I’d rather hang out with a sheet of paper.” Mista said, propping his feet up on Fugo’s desk. He cast a deadly glare, but Mista didn’t seem to care in the slightest, like he was ignoring the hiss of a venomous snake.
“I can hear you, Mista. You’re not quiet.” Giorno peeled his face off of his desk, rubbing his eyes to clean them from the stickiness of an afternoon nap. Fugo gave Mista a small, snide grin. “You two are supposed to be doing something today, yes?” Giorno gently pushed, trying to get the two out of the house. They had gotten a lead from Fugo on where a dealer commonly sold his goods, so Giorno had told him and Mista to track the man and see if they could find his team’s hideout. They didn’t technically have to leave for another three or so hours, but Giorno had some crying he’d like to do, and the duo was throwing off his schedule.
“Right. Sorry, Giorno. We’ll get to that now.” Fugo, getting the hint, got up from his seat and grabbed the collar of Mista’s sweater, dragging him out of the room with impressive strength.
“Agh! I thought you were supposed to be, like, decrepit and shit!” He choked, before promptly being released and falling to the ground. “I am,” Fugo retorted, “you just suck.”