A/N: Day 14: mail
There's something notable about this package Leone just got in the mail...

Warning for a mildly steamy ending.


Sticky Fingers unzips a section of wall beside the front door, and Bruno reaches into the mailbox from inside, plucking out a stack of letters. He turns, headed back toward the kitchen table and his laptop alike. Shuffles through the mail as he goes. There's a lot, today…

A few pieces of junk that he tucks under his arm to tear up and toss, a bill flicked to the back of the pile for later consideration, an ad-with-coupons from that plant store in town that Leone will claim is dangerous, something work-related they've been expecting from Giorno who's traveling, and a lightweight manila envelope.

This last one is probably for Leone – feels like that lipstick he ordered, by the shape of it.

So Bruno backtracks into the hall, and pokes his head up the stairwell. The shower isn't running anymore, so he calls, "Leone, you have a package!"

Ordinarily, he'd wait for Leone to come down and just give it to him, but this one's had Leone impatient. Grumping back and forth about how he shouldn't have waited until he was out of black to order a new one – and then grumping some more, when the shipping was delayed twice.

"Fucking finally," Leone grouches, true to form. It's a bit muffled by the bathroom door. "I'll be down in a minute."

Message delivered, it's back toward the kitchen with Bruno. Bill dropped into the pile of important items at the center of this table, Giorno's letter set on a nearby shelf to await his visit (whereupon he'll likely transform it into a houseplant; Leone will be thrilled), junk mail zipped apart into the trash. Coupons tucked under Bruno's laptop, and this package –

Bruno gives it another casual once-over, and his eyes catch on the label. Stick there.

The return address is nothing to write home about, but the recipient's address…

Shouldn't really be making Bruno's heart skip a beat like this. It is, though. Gets his eyes to go a little wet right along with that unsteady beating, because the last thing he expected to see printed here was the name Leone Buccellati.

Just reading it – just thinking it stirs up something terribly fond inside of him. It's overwhelming. He didn't connect the fact that Leone would. Do this.

Over the course of so many discussions before their wedding, the two of them came to the decision not to hyphenate their last names.

…And then they went back and forth on that choice several more times, discussed other options, eventually resettling on keeping their own surnames to avoid any potential legal snafus. It wouldn't have been anything that Giorno couldn't smooth over via his new position, but. It wasn't worth the hassle it would bring. Never mind that letting their names be so openly known to government employees is less than ideal.

The (technically unofficial) marriage already took enough strings pulled, and there was no reason to complicate things further. Bruno is more than happy that he gets to have Leone in this way.

Just two months ago, he uttered the word husband in reference to Leone for the first time and that alone was…

God, that too had Bruno's heart fluttering like it is now. A certain thrill rising in his stomach, as he reads Leone Buccellati over and over again through repeatedly blurring eyes. No matter how he blinks the tears away they keep coming back.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and Bruno considers putting down the envelope, but it's glued to his hand, apparently, and his eyes are glued to it in turn –

Arms wind their way around Bruno's waist. They settle warm and folded at his stomach as a broad chest is pressed to his back, and Leone sidles right in close. Just like that. Easy. Black-painted fingernails and a ring that Bruno can't help but glance at, given the circumstances. A firm kiss is planted on Bruno's cheek.

"Is that my lipstick?" Leone asks, peering over Bruno's shoulder at the package in his hands.

Bruno hums out an affirmative noise. Tries not to overreact, but he's probably long past that stage, ready to melt in Leone's arms. As usual. This time with a little extra heat, maybe.

Leaning back into Leone and all of that warmth he offers (not even long wet hair is a bother), Bruno kisses that strong jaw – except he can't take his eyes off of that name on this package while he does, and just goes right back to staring directly at it, afterward. Thinks he's read it enough times, by now. His brain disagrees.

Those arms at his waist squeeze in a bit, reaffirming the hug. Leone is kissing Bruno's face again. Much to the delight of that fluttering that's invaded Bruno's heart and will not leave.

That work on his laptop can wait. Dinner can wait even longer.

He's got lipstick labelled Leone Buccellati in his hands and the actual man behind him, so –

"Are you blushing?" Leone mumbles in close to Bruno, only backed away the tiniest bit to better look at Bruno's face, probably – and of course he finds a flush, there.

Bruno is thoroughly warmed right now. Feels like the first time he realized his crush (except without the regretful aftertaste) and every other moment that Leone has overwhelmed him since. All he can do is nod, because there's no denying the obvious.

Leone grunts out a little noise in response. Presses his lips to Bruno's temple one last time, is back to peeking at the mail. Reaching toward his package with one hand, Leone asks, "What for?"

"This," Bruno offers the padded manila envelope, and Leone takes it from him, "is addressed to Leone Buccellati."

Leone freezes. Keeps the envelope held out in front of Bruno, going sort-of rigid along his back, and stays stuck for a few heartbeats – and, oh, Bruno wants to kiss him again more than anything, but then he's gone. Shifting away, clearing his throat. Trying to open the package with fumbling fingers.

"It is," he mutters. He's much redder than Bruno. It is altogether charming. "I told you I was going to use it. Your name…"

He did. Just once, he'd said that – late at night, when they were lounged in bed together, and Leone was being especially cozy-fond, that state he sinks deepest into after sex. He'd curled into Bruno and pressed his mouth to the portion of tattoo right over Bruno's heart and said that he didn't care about legalities. I want to use your name after we're married.

Bruno remembers shivering, back then. Tangling his hands in Leone's hair and kissing him all over while fearing that his heart would burst because it was stuffed full of so much love.

But he…didn't think of all the implications involved. Most people who knew Leone before still call him Abbacchio, after all. The two of them don't meet many new people, and he's only Leone to Bruno – there aren't many instances that come up otherwise. Not many chances for him to be Leone Buccellati.

Pausing with his fingers poised to tear into the packaging, Leone stares at the label. Seems like he's transfixed by it, too. "This is the first time I've seen it like this."

"I like it." Bruno only realizes how true that is as he says it. A surge of heat through his stomach. Heavy heartbeat in his chest and eyes that fix intent on Leone – on that odd tilt to his mouth and his fingers on that letter –

"Me, too," Leone says. He's smiling. Glances at Bruno so gently.

And this time it's Bruno who closes the distance between them. He crowds Leone against the kitchen table, dips his hands beneath the hem of Leone's shirt and lets them creep upward over that soft-firm abdomen, muscles jumping under his fingers. Leone's throat bobs as he swallows, that smile still in place, and Bruno slots his hips between spreading thighs. Stares directly into purple-gold eyes and says, "It suits you."

That package is dropped to the table with care so that Leone can grab hold of Bruno in turn and surge down to meet him halfway for a kiss.

(If, later on, Bruno cuts that label out for safekeeping, it's no one's business but Leone Buccellati's.)


A/N: Happy Valentine's Day :")

And happy halfway point for Februabba! Thank you so much for reading,,, (And for all the hits/reviews/likes/shares/interactions in general, too - I greatly appreciate all of it, and all of you...!)