♥*♡∞:｡.｡「Fugo Loveposting」｡.｡:∞♡*♥

「 Of Glances, Homecooked Meals and Other Expressions of Love. 」

In which you make dinner for Fugo and that's it, that's the fic.

I kinda just threw this one together in the last hour and barely bothered to proof read so if it's a mess, I apologize.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

You had walked him to his living room couch and helped him sit there. His little apartment might be somewhat beat up, but he always made sure to keep it neat and organized. Bruno had gifted it to him, after all, so he greatly appreciated the place. It didn't quite feel like home, but nowhere had really ever, and Fugo had grown used to that sour feeling.

He hugged himself still, groaning in pain. He'd gotten thrown around and surely his skin would end up bruised, it hurt badly, his whole body ached nearly everywhere. He could take it, of course, but it was bad enough that you had to drive him home. Bucciarati didn't even have to ask, as you offered first.

You were always looking after everyone ever since you'd joined. You were somewhat warmer than Bucciarati himself in a sense, perhaps because as the leader he had to show himself stern, whilst you could be unapologetically caring.

You would go out of your way to feed the Pistols for Mista, would brush Narancia's hair every other day and apparently Abbacchio relied on you at times. Fugo wasn't too sure, it's just little details he had picked up.

Today, you drove him home, and though he had expected that to be the end of it, you had instead walked him in and sat him down. He then expected you to say your goodbyes and leave, but instead...

"Should I prepare you a bath?" You asked, patting dust off of your skirt whilst you gave him your back. You then turned on your heels and smiled. "You fell into the water earlier, you're probably cold."

He shook his head. "It's fine."

"No, no, I insist."

He held his breath for a moment, lowering his head and fluttering his eyelashes closed. "You know... you don't have to." When looking up again he was met by your softened eyes and smile.

"But... I'd like to. Fugo, you're in pain right now, aren't you? You don't have to endure it by yourself."

He swallowed, slowly taking his gaze away from you. He wasn't about to reject the offer when he felt this physically weak, his shaky hands were proof of his state, he might've even thought they looked thinner than usual. He laid back on the small couch, sighing deeply and throwing his head back.

Before much else could be said, you were already down the hall checking the temperature of the water in the nearly full tub. Fugo didn't take many baths, showers were quicker and most effective, but right now given the soreness of his body, it sounded like it could be nice.

He'd managed to get up from the couch to get himself a glass of water. His throat felt dry, which wasn't helping his mood. He chugged it down as you made your way back to the small kitchen. He heard you gasp when you saw him standing up.

"Hey, you could've asked."

"I might be hurt, but I'm not incapacitated yet."

You chuckled at that, approaching further. You placed a hand on the refrigerator door, curious eyes scanning it up and down. "Do you have enough ingredients to cook anything?" You asked, lips curling up into a grin.

"Eh?" Fugo only looked at you from his profile, lips still semi pressed to the glass. "I mean, there should be, yes."

"Would it be okay if I cooked dinner for you while you bathe?"

Fugo paused, blinking a couple of times. He fully turned his head toward you, blonde bangs obscuring his bewildered expression as he tilted his head. He didn't know you were planning on staying for so long.