"It's been years since I've been on the ice." Fugo glided past Melone talking in a carefree tone but Melone was too focused on not falling on his ass to be able to respond.
The rink wasn't very full but other people were here, mostly mothers with their young children. School would be in session now and most adults were still at work. Some skated about, perhaps on their lunch hour. Melone clung to the wall as he tried to step onto the ice. Ghiaccio glided towards him and stopped with a twirl. He smiled and held out his hand.
"Need some help?" he chuckled. Melone looked at him and then back at the wall. He stretched out his hand and gripped Ghiaccio for balance. He was firm and steady even though Melone continued to wobble as he pushed off the wall, then he pitched forward into Ghiaccio, but his arms were strong and held his weight. It was like nothing could shake Ghiaccio's impeccable equilibrium. Melone wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist for better stability. Ghiaccio was soft and warm in his woven white turtleneck sweater; Melone didn't want to leave his embrace. "I can't skate with you wrapped around me like this."
"I don't wanna fall," Melone whined.
"I told you I'm not going to let you fall, dummy. Just trust me." Ghiaccio looked into his eyes and smiled. Melone sighed and relented. Ghiaccio held his hands and tried to help him practice basic balance on the ice, so he could at least stand. It took a while and Fugo did circles around them. He didn't do any fancy spins, but he leaned into the sway as he turned corners that appeared fluid and controlled.
"You've never been skating before?" Fugo asked Melone.
"No, we didn't have a rink where I grew up," Melone said, his legs finally wobbling a bit less. His balance was improving. It reminded him of being on rollerblades.
"And where's that?" Fugo asked.
"A small town in France. You wouldn't have heard of it."
"I thought you were from Napoli?" Ghiaccio pointed out.
"I was born here, but after my parents separated, Mom moved us back to France for a while to be near family. We eventually went back once she got more established. She loved Italy but we couldn't afford to stay after the split."
"I'm sorry," Fugo said. Melone mustered a smile and pushed it down further.
"I don't care. I haven't seen him since I was eight." He waved his hand dismissively and grabbed Ghiaccio's hand again.
"FUGO! HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO THIS?!" Narancia yelled from the other side. He was still lacing up his skates. Fugo flushed darkly as he saw angry mothers turning to glare at the young mafioso. Narancia had insisted upon coming like a little brother tagging along after his older sibling's friends.
"Goddamn it," Fugo muttered to himself and skated away. He certainly was good. Better than Melone. Ghiaccio squeezed Melone's hand.
"I never knew that. About your parents," Ghiaccio said pensively. Melone looked at Ghiaccio. "You never talk about your family."
Melone cleared his throat and looked down at his skates. "Yeah, it's not something I like talking about."
"Yeah, I guess not. I hate talking about my dad too." Ghiaccio watched as Fugo pulled Narancia to his feet.
"I understand that," Melone said. He'd wanted to ask Ghia about his situation, but he knew that if Ghiaccio had asked him, Melone wouldn't be so forthcoming. He caught Ghiaccio staring.
"I mean, it's not a great story, but I'd be willing to tell you about it sometime if you want," Ghiaccio offered.
"You don't have to." He shifted his weight between the two blades keeping him on top of the ice.
"I want to." Ghiaccio's eyes were serious. There was something about that moment—that connection—that made Melone really feel as if Ghiaccio viewed him as an equal. Someone he truly trusted.
"Why?" He couldn't help asking in awe.
"Because I love you, and I want you to understand me. I wanna be someone you trust with things." Ghiaccio stared at him with those soft eyes for a long moment as his words sunk in. Melone felt like crying, the shame welling up within him again. "Come on, let's try skating a little."
There were other people skating about and Melone was apprehensive about leaving the wall to join them but Ghiaccio held his hand and pulled Melone alongside him. He moved bit by bit on the ice until he felt there was too much speed and he held his arm out for balance as he wobbled a bit.
"Ghia! You're going too fast, slow down!" Melone cried.
Ghiaccio just chuckled. "We're barely moving. Fugo's passed us twice now and we haven't even made it to the other side of the rink yet. Even Narancia's made it to the other wall before us."
"I'm surprised."
"About what?" Ghiaccio asked.
"I didn't think Narancia would come."
"Well, Narancia's his best friend. Fugo thinks he's feeling left out ever since we became friends." Ghiaccio scratched the back of his head and winced. "Honestly, it's probably for the best. I kinda regretted inviting Fugo after I did it."
"Why?" Melone gasped. Ghiaccio loved Fugo; Melone couldn't fathom why he wouldn't want his best friend around.
"Well, I mean, this is kinda like our first date… but I also promised Fugo we'd go skating on Sunday, but then we had the mission…" Ghiaccio sighed. Melone's heart swelled.
He considers this a date.
This is our first date.
"No, I get it. You promised him first," Melone said.
"Yeah, but he of all people would have understood. He knows how I feel about you." Melone's heart raced in his chest. Ghiaccio just looked at his feet. "So yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't really thinking."
"It's fine, Ghiaccio. I like Fugo. He's easy to talk to. And I don't mind Narancia either; he's fun." Melone smiled and Ghiaccio just shrugged.
"Also, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him to see us together."
"You did?" He looked at Ghiaccio, heart fluttering wildly in his chest.
"Well… yeah. I mean—don't get me wrong—I'm fucking nervous as hell being out like this in public together, but at the same time… feels kinda good."
"It's good to be yourself," Melone said leaning in.
"I want people to see you with me." Ghiaccio glanced at his lips and then into his eyes. It was clear he wanted to kiss Melone, but Ghiaccio remained still, cognizant of the people around him. "I want them to know, but at the same time, I don't… if that makes sense."
"Yeah, it does." Melone rubbed Ghiaccio's hand with his thumb. He thought a subject change would make Ghiaccio feel more comfortable. He batted his eyes and spoke flirtatiously. "Hey. Why don't you show me how good you really are? You're always bragging about it. Go out there and show off for me, babe."
Ghiaccio lowered his head and flushed but couldn't hide the large smile that spread across his face. He let go of Melone's hand and raised himself up straight. "Just watch. You and Fugo both. I'll show you how a real skater does it. Yo, Fugue! Sit back and let a pro show ya how it's done, eh?" He yelled and his northern accent slipped in his excitement. Melone couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's surging confidence.
"Check you out over here like a baby deer! Ha!" Narancia approached his spot near the wall laughing. Melone grabbed him and rested his elbow on his head.
"Thank god, I needed some support. You're just the perfect height too," Melone teased.
"Aw, shut up!" Narancia whined. "I'm not short!"
"HEY, BOZOS! PAY ATTENTION! YOU NEED THIS LESSON!" Ghiaccio yelled from the other side of the rink.
"So desperate for my attention. Don't worry baby, my eyes aren't anywhere else, Ghia-honey," Melone called back and Ghiaccio flipped him off causing him to chuckle.
Ghiaccio had finished a camel spin and landed it perfectly to the applause of Fugo and Narancia. He looked to see Melone watching him and pride swelled in his chest. He skated toward his smiling partner, still gloating.
"What d'ya think of that?" Ghiaccio asked, smirking. He saw the mischievous look on Melone's face as he beckoned Ghiaccio over with a single slender finger. As soon as he was close enough, Melone grabbed his arm and pulled him close.
"Would have been even better watching you in the suit, muscles rippling inside of White Album. Or better yet, nothing at all…" He whispered in almost a groan, breath warm against his ear, and Ghiaccio's face grew hot. It was quickly becoming uncomfortable due to the surge to his crotch.
"Uh… I—AHH! MELONE!" Ghiaccio gasped as Melone squeezed his ass once. He quickly looked around but no one seemed to be looking in their direction. Melone giggled at Ghiaccio's embarrassment. "THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! DO YOU HAVE ANY SOCIAL AWARENESS WHATSOEVER?"
"You liked it," Melone smirked quietly.
"Yeah… but that doesn't mean you should do it in public!" He hissed through his teeth.
"I'd have done that even if we weren't together." Melone smiled. "So no harm done."
Fucking shameless flirt.
Oh, but god did he love it.
"What's going on in this neck of the woods, Glass?" Fugo had skated over, brow raised.
"NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!" Ghiaccio snapped.
"Your screaming about it makes it everyone's business, eh?" Fugo chuckled.
"It's nothing!" Ghiaccio lowered his volume a bit.
"Mm, I know something that begs to differ…" Melone eyed Ghiaccio's crotch and smiled.
"Shut the fuck up, Mel." He felt so fucking embarrassed but he wasn't really that mad. It was the two people he felt most comfortable with teasing him and in that, the embarrassment was tolerable.
"Really Glass, I never thought you'd be one for PDA. I mean, honestly. There are children here." Fugo laughed.
"Go fuck yourself, Fugue."
"I mean, I'd rather myself than anyone else," Fugo joked. Ghiaccio couldn't help but shove him playfully.
"Are we ganging up on the hot-head?" Narancia yelled as he skated up.
"Aw hell no, pipsqueak, take your toys and fuck off back to preschool!" Ghiaccio poked Narancia in the chest.
"I'm not a kid! I'm fucking older than Fugo! And I don't play with toys!" Narancia folded his arms in a huff.
"Your stand is a fucking model plane! What do you mean?!" Ghiaccio countered.
"You've got a point, Ghi. Never thought about that. Now he's even cuter," Melone cooed.
"I will fucking gut you if you call me cute again!" Narancia whipped out his butterfly knife and Fugo yanked it from his grasp.
"I can't take you fucking anywhere!" Fugo snapped. "Put that shit away! There are kids here! At least try to be civil."
The crackle of the PA system came on and a woman's voice began speaking. "The rink will be closing early today, so please make your way to the exits. Refunds will be issued at the front desk for those that have full-day passes. We apologize for any inconvenience this change may have caused. Thank you again for using Marino's Pattinaggio and have a lovely evening."
"What the fuck?! You gotta be fucking kidding me?!" Ghiaccio was beyond pissed. This was his first real date with Melone and dammit he was gonna fucking enjoy it! He skated toward the exit and began yelling. "Piero! Hey, Piero!"
"Yo, Glass, it's cool. Don't sweat it." Fugo was already at his side.
"No! This is fucking bullshit!"
"Ghiaccio, what's the size of the problem?" Fugo asked. That had been something else they had discussed during sessions. Discerning whether or not a problem was really worth getting angry about. On principle, Ghiaccio knew his friend was right, but it wasn't about being able to skate or not.
It was about Melone. About lowering Ghiaccio's own defenses and letting Melone in, letting his partner see inside. The rink was his sanctum and he had invited him here in the hopes that they might become closer, so Melone would trust him with whatever he'd been carrying around. Maybe it would be better to bring him on a day when Piero could let him stay later without all the people, but the damage had already been done.
Ghiaccio was livid and demanded answers.
Who the fuck dared to interfere? When they found out he was Passione AND an assassin? They'd let him stay.
"PIERO!" Ghiaccio was already off the ice and hastily unlacing his skates. The older man was walking down the stairs toward the screaming assassin. "What the fuck? What gives?"
"I know, I know. Just take a breath." Piero put a hand on his shoulder.
"Why are they closing? I brought people today who have never been here!" Ghiaccio snapped. He certainly wasn't mad at the man in front of him but it was difficult to keep his anger in check.
"It's not my call, Ghiaccio, or you know I'd let you stay out there," Piero stated calmly in a way that seemed fatherly, but what did Ghiaccio know about that? "Management is closing the place early. Whole place's been rented out for the day."
"Who the fuck had the goddamned audacity to do that?! What entitled prick—"
"Some politician. You know how it is. Management ain't gonna say no to that chuck o' change." Piero shrugged. "Look, I'm real sorry, Ghiaccio. I'm on by myself for closing Wednesday. I can let you and your friends skate after then if you want?"
This man was nicer than Ghiaccio deserved. He sighed. "Ah, fuck. I have anger management sessions then." He took a deep breath. "I know, some good those are doing for me, yeah?"
"I understand." Piero smiled. "You have every right to be upset."
"I'm sorry; I'm not mad at you, Piero." He tried to calm himself a bit. It wasn't fair to take this out on him. "I'm just so fucking frustrated." Ghiaccio glanced back to see Melone leaning on the entrance wall, while Narancia sat on the floor waiting to see how things would play out. Fugo had finished taking off his skates and was walking over to join them.
The ice was nearly empty and people were gathering their things, some grumbling, but nothing like the scene Ghiaccio was making now. Gotta get it under control. You can't control everything. It's out of your hands. Just then a girl came running with a bag down the aisle, couldn't be more than eight but Ghiaccio couldn't judge kids. They all looked the same to him. She had a mess of dark blue curls bound into a ponytail and a small mouth coated in a sheen of gloss.
"Neve, don't run! You'll trip sweetie." A man called. She sat down and immediately began pulling on her little white skates. Ghiaccio looked back to see the origin of the voice.
"Is this the goddamned douchebag?" Ghaiccio pushed past Piero, but the man grabbed his arm.
"Ghiaccio, if you start something, I can't help you."
"I don't want your help."
"Now look, son. I wouldn't dare get in the way of someone like you unless I really thought it was necessary. I know what you do for a living and I respect that." Ghiaccio stood glaring, still burning with the rage he wanted to take out on the man who'd just ruined his day. "But if you pick a fight with the Senator, it's gonna get ugly, and I can't do nothing to help with that."
"Someone's gotta stand up to these rich pricks that think they can do anything. They just do what they fucking want while they hold the rest of us under their thumb." He burned as he remembered the months of near poverty his team had to go through after the Boss cut them off. Melone had lost so much weight. He'd stopped eating after Gelato and Sorbet had been killed, not that there had been much in the kitchen to satiate him if he'd been so inclined. He still hadn't fully regained that weight or muscle back yet.
Fuck these rich pricks.
Ghiaccio pulled out of his grasp and approached the man. Fucking senator. Of course, doesn't want to deal with the damn public but still wants to skate. Well, fuck him. He chose this life, he can fucking deal with the consequences of it.
"HEY! JUST WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BASTARD?" Ghiaccio screamed as he approached.
"Ghiaccio, don't," Fugo warned.
"Excuse me, sir. I would appreciate you not swearing in front of my daughter.
"You think you're big shit, eh? Just cause you have money, you think you can just push the rest of us around?!" He walked right up to the senator and snarled in his face.
The man was taller than him, but at 5'7" Ghiaccio was on the small side of average for a guy. Melone was taller than that, but only clocking in at 5'9". This man was tall but not Illuso or Risotto tall. Maybe under six feet, but it was still taller than Ghiaccio, which was something else he resented. He'd always hated being so small. Only Pesci was shorter than he was which infuriated him. And why the fuck was Formaggio as tall as he was? His stand is small, bitch should be shorter. Fuck him.
"I ask that you lower your voice." The senator said in a stern tone. The girl had already run off to the ice and pushed past Narancia and Melone to skate.
"I'LL BE AS LOUD AS I FUCKING WANT TO! YOU CAN'T JUST CLOSE THIS PLACE DOWN!"
"Excuse me, sir? Could you please escort this man out?" The senator looked at Piero as he approached.
"Piero doesn't fucking serve you!" Ghiaccio screamed as Piero tried to talk to him again. "Do you even know who the fuck I am? I'm Passione, bitch! And I don't give a fuck if you're a government asswipe. I'll clean up like it's any other job!"
"Ghiaccio, this is Senator Pugliesi." Fugo said in a strained voice next to him, trying to intervene and diffuse the situation. "He's one of our supporters. He helps fund Giorno's drug-free initiative."
"I don't give a fuck about what Giorno wants! Did he give a fuck about your needs last week?" Fugo tensed beside him. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
"Listen, I would be more than happy to provide you compensation for your trouble—"
"Don't you dare try to buy me off! This isn't about money! It's about you being a prick thinking you can just do what you want!"
"Honey, is everything okay? Should I get security?" Ghiaccio looked at the woman descending the steps with another woman in tow.
His mouth went dry.
"Everything's fine, this man is just upset by the early closing of the rink."
"Then let them skate, I didn't see the need to close the whole rink in the first place." Her violet eyes finally landed on him. He shivered as she drew closer and that vanilla scent hit him. His ears began to ring.
Ghiaccio was twelve years old again.
A mixture of emotions hit him in waves. Sadness as he watched from the cold windowpane while she walked down the street with a suitcase in hand. Anger at the glasses he'd had to don ever since, which never would have been necessary had she done her fucking job. Warmth surged through his veins at the memory of touch, an embrace, enveloped by comforting vanilla. A hand stroking his curls late into the night when migraines gripped him and sent his stomach swirling in revolt, spit-bucket close at hand. Fear as memories flooded him of yelling and slapping as his mother inserted herself between him and his drunken father. And whether he accepted the truth of it or resented it, the greatest of these was love. A longing for reunion and acceptance with open arms. Her hair was beginning to gray in places but those deep sapphire curls held only by a red headband still draped to her shoulders just like he'd remembered.
Someone was talking to him. Her lips were moving.
"What?" Ghiaccio asked in a daze.
"Can I help you? I hear you've been giving my husband a hard time." She said in a sterner, more confident voice than he'd ever heard her use before.
"Hey, you okay?" he heard Melone ask at his side. He didn't realize he'd gotten so close.
"Mom." The word was out of Ghiaccio's mouth before he realized what he'd done.
"I'm sorry?" Her face clouded into confusion.
"Mom. It's me. Ghiaccio."
He watched the color drain from her face.
"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else," she said but averted her eyes and began to walk past him.
"Ghiaccio Bianchi! I'm your son!" He insisted and grabbed her arm to stop her.
"I-I don't know who you are," she said while trying to pull away.
"Hey! Get your hands off my wife! Now she said she doesn't know you! I will not ask you again to leave us alone." Security had just pulled at Ghiaccio to separate the two estranged relatives.
"She's fucking lying!" Ghiaccio snapped at the senator, then he looked back at the woman he desperately wanted to talk to. "Why would you say that? I know you know who I am!"
"Come on, you guys gotta go," one of the security men said.
"No! Wait, I want an answer goddamn it! She knows me but she doesn't want to admit it! How dare you ignore me, you bitch! It's your fucking fault I'm like this! You left me alone with him! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Ghiaccio was still screaming out in the hallway. They had been escorted out. Fugo had Ghiaccio's skates slung over his shoulder and was carrying his bag.
"Hey… I'm sorry," Fugo said as he handed him the bag. Ghiaccio snatched it out of his hands and took his skates back. He grimaced and then whipped the bag away from him.
"Goddamn that bitch! Fucking whore!" He turned and began smashing the blade of his skates into the wall, gouging the plaster.
"Ghiaccio!" Fugo grabbed the skate from him and Ghiaccio turned and began punching the wall instead, his fist coated in ice. He continued shrieking and security backed off now that he was out of range of the senator. They knew who he was and that he was not to be messed with.
"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! GODDAMNIT! BITCH! FUCK!" On his last punch, he summoned White Album to his knuckles and put his fist through the wall.
Someone grabbed him by the shoulder before he could smash his other hand. It was Melone. He grabbed Ghiaccio by the back of the neck and squeezed hard as he led him out of the building. Ghiaccio's senses were firing, everything was heightened and bright and nothing felt real. Like he could slice a man's throat open with his skate and nothing would happen.
This can't be real… I'm having a nightmare. I didn't really see her. That didn't actually just happen!
"Ghiaccio!" The next thing he knew, they were outside and the cool air blew against the sweat dripping down his face. There wasn't enough air in his chest, no matter how hard he breathed in and out. His eyes burned from the sweat. Each tear (no... sweat, he wasn't crying—not about this) dripped down his face.
Someone pulled Ghiaccio into a hug and said nothing. Words would only serve to aggravate him further. He gasped in the scent of lavender. He gripped onto his partner's arms hard and screwed up his face as he burrowed into his neck.
He took a deep shuddering breath.
"He's done. I'll take him home," Melone said.
They had taken two separate cars to get here so Fugo must have nodded since there was silence between them. Then he said, "You know where to find me." The arms around his head and body got tighter, squeezing everything out of him. He sobbed, ugly and loud, into his partner's calm demeanor in the orange light of the late October sun.