AN: Sorry that this took so long! I had a bunch of other ideas for stories ready (plus starting a new multi-chapter fic) and I kinda ignored this one. I plan on updating this story every two to three weeks, so I have time to work on my other projects. I also want to exercise my adult writing skills, so expect a few more smutty things here and there before the next chapter. Well, with all that out of the way, enjoy the story!

"Yeesh, it's boring in here."

Mista had been laying on the floor for the past hour inside their comfy hotel room. A storm had picked up, and all residents of the island were to be evacuated into their homes until the thunderstorm passes. It was rather unusual, being this lazy. Most of the time, the gang was either looking for the boss, or procrastinating that very action. Narancia being stuck at home was a definite contributor, however.

"Say, Abba... can I join that chess game of yours?"

"For the last time, Mista, chess is not a three player game."

Abbacchio and Giorno had taken to passing the time by playing chess; one of the only things Abba brought with him on the vacation. This was Giorno's third game where he was in checkmate position. Giorno always tried to accuse him of cheating, but Fugo would shut him up. Sure, Abbacchio may or may not be using Moody Blues to see Giorno's past moves and estimate what he would do next, but neither of them really minded. Passing the time (and not going insane) was the current goal on the agenda.

Bruno opened his traveling case, as he had chose to pop open a book he was reading and stuff a quick chapter or two. He flipped the blue book over, and- Oh, yeah, he packed his smut. Whoops. Well, there goes that idea. Instead of embarrassing himself in front of the gang, he decided on using his art supplies and drawing a quick sketch of the landscape outside, as the rain poured down.

It had been around 80 degrees all day long, so it surprised everyone when a tropical rainstorm was announced to be heading right for Honolulu. The rain thundered down upon the glass, making the only noise in the room other than the small TV with the volume turned down low. The sky was a dark gray, with no character or life remaining. The entire sun had been blotted, and the bleakness of the storm had revealed itself.

Fugo had fallen asleep a long time ago, totally oblivious to how hard the storm was coming down, until Bruno stood up.

"I'm going to go get something to eat, do you guys want anything?"

Mista responded. "Yeah, sure, pick me up like a sandwich or something from the hotel bar."

Fugo, coming to his senses in his chair, slowly craned his neck in all directions to wear off the sleep. He rubbed at his face; had he been drooling? Wiping the sleep out of his eyes, he stood slowly as he went for his phone to call Narancia. Chances were good that he would hear the bring, bring, bring even if he was asleep. "What has Narancia even been doing? He probably hasn't even done anything I asked him to..." He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. There was no need to be this aggressive already; it was about five p.m. according to the island clocks.

The tropical storm raged on outside, thundering hard enough to break a window. As Bruno walked with conviction and purpose down the hallway, he climbed down the stairs to reach the bottom floor. Moving to the hotel bar, he ordered several assorted items from the desk. Bruno had to admit, it felt extremely uncomfortable walking around a classy hotel wearing flower shorts, but Abbacchio had dared him to wear them, and thusly, everybody chose to bring a pair so Bruno wouldn't be too to the hotel room, Bruno passed out the items he got to all the gang members, and shortly after, evacuated the room to use the bathroom.

One of the good things about these stupid flower shorts; you can pull them down much easier than pants. There's no buckles or buttons or zippers.

Doesn't really help in a stall, but it's a nice addition.

After finishing his business and flushing the urinal, he looked at his small flip phone. Perhaps he should call Narancia to see how the learning is going, being a good substitute father, after all. Thinking over it for a quick minute, he realized that Narancia is probably just eating food or watching TV, making slow progress. It wouldn't be useful to call him.

Besides...

He'll have the rest of the week.