Ghiaccio didn't see Melone for the rest of the day. He refused to come out of his room. Ghiaccio hadn't seen Gelato or Sorbet either for that matter. Maybe they were actually working. Shocker. It was evening by the time Formaggio, Illuso and Pesci returned home to find Ghiaccio reading on the couch. Formaggio was never good at letting sleeping dogs lie and immediately engaged Ghiaccio.

"Hey, Blue. What's happening?" Formaggio jumped over the couch to land on his back next to Ghiaccio.

"Reading." Ghiaccio barely glanced at him.

"We took Pesci to the mall. Illuso wanted to get him new clothes so he wouldn't look so much like a mammoni. What do you think?" Ghiaccio reluctantly turned to look behind the couch at Illuso and Pesci. Pesci had on jeans, a fashionable shirt, and a tan sleeveless cardigan over it. On his head sat an all black fedora. He did look a lot better but...

"You can take the boy out of his momma but not the mammoni out of the boy." Ghiaccio turned back around and looked back at his book again.

"Fuck, that's disgusting, Ghi," Illuso said.

"Oh my god, that man had a family! Absolutely savage!" Formaggio laughed as he wrinkled up his nose.

"But true."

"Did you even look at him? He looks like a fashionable man now, thanks to my expert eye," Illuso argued.

"Good. You're all back," he heard Risotto's deep voice speak. He shut the book and put it aside as he turned around. Formaggio sat up at the sound.

"Riz! Check 'im out! He's a whole new man." He threw his arms up to gesture at Pesci. Pesci looked sheepishly at Risotto who silently looked back.

"What are you wearing?" Prosciutto came in between them and tapped the brim of Pesci's hat.

"It's a fedora. Formaggio said all gangsters wear them..." Pesci trembled under his mentor's gaze.

"Do Riz or I wear one?" Prosciutto asked.

"...No," Pesci said slowly.

"Then I think you're fine without it," Prosciutto said. Prosciutto snatched it off his head and threw it, smacking Formaggio in the face. He walked over to the other couch and flopped down on it. "God, that was boring."

"Has anyone seen Gelato or Sorbet? I want to get their updates," Risotto asked as his eyes scanned the room.

"They've been in the den all day, at least that's what Melone said. I never actually saw them today," Ghiaccio replied. Risotto nodded and left for the den.

"Hey, where is Mel?" Formaggio sat back down with the hat on his head.

"Still in his room," Ghiaccio said evenly.

"Probably watching porn," Illuso chortled.

"Or maybe he's actually working, unlike you stooges." Prosciutto pulled out a cigar and put it to his lips. He dug through his pockets for his lighter.

"Why is everyone overlooking the hard work I did today? Pesci is a new man, dammit! Take notice, you plebeians!" Illuso demanded to no avail. Prosciutto found his lighter and flipped it open.

"Oh, hell no! Do not smoke that shit in here!" Ghiaccio yelled.

"I'll smoke it wherever I damn well please!" Prosciutto snapped.

"It smells like ass!" Ghiaccio barked.

"So does your weed," Prosciutto said.

"Hey! We smoke outside!" Formaggio interjected.

"Exactly," Illuso said. "We're not savages."

"So kindly smoke your shit outside like everyone else!" Ghiaccio folded his arms. Prosciutto looked around to see everyone staring him down.

"Ugh, fine!" Prosciutto rolled his eyes and put the cigar back in his breast pocket. Formaggio clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"Alright ladies, it's Saturday night and you know what that means!"

"I'll sit this one out," Prosciutto said.

"Aw, come on! It's no fun when I can't beat your ass in poker!" Formaggio said.

"You can only go three rounds before you and Ghiaccio are too smashed to function. It's no fun when it's just me and Illuso, and Pesci's no good at Poker." Pesci looked defeated as he sat down in one of the lounge chairs.

"It is fun to watch the shit you guys do after that, though," Illuso laughed.

"That's 'cause I can't let him outdrink me!" Formaggio said.

"You never outdrink me, bastard!" Ghiaccio snapped. Being drunk did sound good right about now. It would help him to forget about all the shit that had happened in the last 48 hours. Risotto came back into the room with Gelato and Sorbet in tow.

"Hey, we're getting trashed, you guys in?" Formaggio asked.

"Aw, they're just going to make out all night," Illuso complained and made a face. "Why don't you guys play poker instead?"

"I'll pass," Gelato said.

"I'll play a round, if that's fine with you." Sorbet looked at Gelato.

"That's fine, I'm going to go find Melone and see if I can drag him out of his room." How did he know where Melone was? They must have been messaging each other. Ghiaccio wondered how much Gelato knew.

Sorbet, Formaggio, and Illuso went over to the table to set up the game. Illuso called Pesci over to join. No matter how many times Illuso or Prosciutto tried to teach Pesci, he never got any better. He had a terrible poker face. Risotto, however, was too good and didn't play often since the last time he had played and won, Ghiaccio had flipped the table in rage. Risotto walked into the kitchen and grabbed two beers. He came back in and sat down next to Prosciutto, handing him one. The look he gave Risotto as he took the bottle was telling.

What the fuck? Melone was right, holy shit.

"Blue, you coming?" Illuso called.

"Yeah." He stood and started walking over to the table but felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Why won't Melone come out of his room?" Gelato said in a smooth voice. He walked around to Ghiaccio's front, hand still on his shoulder. Shit. Gelato was touching him. All he needed for truth to come pouring forth was a touch.

"I-I don't know." Thank god, that had been true.

"Well, something happened. What did you do to him?" Gelato purred. He had to maintain contact with his target, or else the effect would be broken. Ghiaccio couldn't move to swat his hand away either. Another effect of Gelato's stand: immobility. He knew the stand was somewhere inside him forcing him to speak. He wanted to tell Gelato to fuck off, but instead he spoke the truth.

"I fucked him in the kitchen," Ghiaccio hissed. He wanted to die. He couldn't believe he'd actually just said that. Thankfully, the stand allowed him to whisper it. It had no control over volume, his only real escape.

"I already knew that, gattino rabbia," Gelato smiled. "You weren't exactly quiet this morning." Ghiaccio's face flushed in embarrassed rage. "Do you like him?"

"Yes," Ghiaccio murmured. He really wanted to call out for help but knew he'd probably say something else he'd regret. Silence was his only option in this fight.

"Oi, Ghiaccio! What the hell is taking you so long?" Formaggio called. Ghiaccio clenched his teeth as he glared at Gelato. Gelato gave him a sly smile before mercifully removing his hand from Ghiaccio, who turned tail as fast as he could to the other room.

****************************

Melone had finished his website for his hacking services and linked it a few places around the dark web. He was already getting hits on it. He scrolled through the requests deciding which looked the most promising and fun. He heard a knock at the door. He didn't say anything and continued to look at the requests. He didn't want to see Ghiaccio and was afraid it might be him again. There was another knock but it was quiet, which was uncharacteristic of Ghiaccio. He heard a voice call out to him.

"Melone, are you in there?" It was Gelato. He stood up, went to the door, and unlocked it.

"You locked the door and you're still in your pajamas? It must be bad," Gelato said solemnly.

"Ghiaccio was trying to bust down my door earlier," he said as he backed up to let Gelato in. He closed and locked the door again behind him.

"What's the matter, bellino? I know it was Ghiaccio. He told me how he took you in the kitchen."

"He what?" Melone turned and gasped.

"He wriggled out of my grasp before I could get any more out of him." Gelato smirked.

"You are wicked," Melone said, smiling back. He sat back down on the bed. Melone wondered how much Ghiaccio squirmed under the effects of Gelato's stand. He wished he could have seen that. He's probably getting trashed right now to forget.

"You know it. Now, tell me everything." Gelato sat down next to him. Melone then went into a long explanation of everything that had happened since yesterday in the car. Gelato listened and nodded at all the appropriate times. Melone even showed him the text messages, minus the pictures. Gelato raised his brow reading the texts.

"Bellino, you have it for him bad," Gelato consoled, shaking his head and handing the phone back.

"I know..." Melone covered his face.

"I honestly don't understand what you see in him. He's so crude and hostile, like some kind of goblin."

"Yes, but he's my goblin!" Melone crooned. "He can be sweet. You just have to get past all that rage."

"That's the trick isn't it? Getting past all the rage," Gelato chuckled.

"It really doesn't take much to set him off." Melone thought about the words exchanged in the kitchen. "I just want to be the one he goes to."

"You are," Gelato said. "He was begging for you earlier."

"No, I mean I want him to come to me when he's mad and upset. I want to be the one that makes his anger fade. I want to make him happy."

"But you are, bellino, don't you see that?" Gelato said. "Sorbet and I would do anything for each other—I see that in you guys as well. I've seen you two in battle together. He makes a lot of choices in the field that I don't agree with, but they're clearly for your benefit and safety. He cares. Trust me."

Melone let those words sink in for a moment. He hadn't noticed that. Melone always agreed with Ghiaccio's decisions because he was so overly analytical and quick-witted in battle. Melone trusted that. His being removed from the immediate battle always gave him a different perspective than being in the thick of it. That was why he usually deferred to Ghiaccio's judgement on most matters. He'd never considered that perhaps Ghiaccio's reasoning might be clouded because of him. He would need to watch more carefully for that next time. He didn't want Ghiaccio getting hurt on his account.

"Why don't you come down? They're playing poker and drinking. You know that means Ghiaccio will be much more tolerable to deal with tonight. You can hang out with me and Prosciutto since we won't be playing." Gelato argued further, "How else are you going to get him, if you aren't downstairs charming him?"

"I guess you're right." Melone dwelled on that. Maybe he should flirt with Ghiaccio more until he showed interest beyond just sexual escapades?

"Good, come on bambino," Gelato took his hand and pulled him off the bed. "Get dressed. I'll be right back." Gelato left while Melone pulled on a black crop top and purple jeans. He combed his hair and adjusted his mask in the mirror. He walked out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him just as Gelato was making his way back.

"Ready?"

"Yeah..."

"You'll feel better once you have some wine with me." Gelato took his hand, pulling him towards the stairs and Melone followed. They walked downstairs where Prosciutto and Risotto were deep in conversation about something. They passed into the kitchen where they saw Formaggio, Illuso, Sorbet, Ghiaccio, and Pesci deep in concentration. Formaggio was trying not to laugh at Pesci's worried expression as he looked at his cards. Sorbet glanced up at their entrance and smiled.

"I fold." Sorbet put down his cards and stood up. Melone rested his elbows on the counter to watch the rest of the game unfold.

"Ah, shit," Illuso said. "Same." He threw down his cards and glanced over Pesci's shoulder. "You should too, Pesc." Pesci sighed and put his cards down. Sorbet walked over and kissed Gelato on the cheek.

"Ciao, tesoro mio," he said as he put his arms around Gelato. "I missed you."

"Anche io, amore mio," Gelato kissed him back. "Look who I got to join us." Sorbet looked at Melone and nodded.

"Ah, dammit. I give up too." Formaggio smacked his hand on the table and took another drink.

"Ha! I win again!" Ghiaccio yelled, a goofy drunken smile plastered across his face.

"Give me your damn cards...what did you even have?" Illuso swiped the cards from his hand as Ghiaccio laughed. He tossed the cards at Formaggio. "What the fuck? Mag, do you see this?"

"It's all just crap! What the hell, Blue!?" Formaggio pounded his fists on the table. Gelato was pouring out wine for Melone and himself.

"Not my fault y'all are just a bunch of pussies!" Ghiaccio laughed more. His northern Italian dialect was slipping out in his drunken state. It was always cute when it happened, and it only occurred when he was intoxicated. Melone drained the whole glass in an instant.

"You fucking northern bastard! I'll kill you!" Formaggio lunged across the table and grabbed his shirt. Melone poured himself another glass.

"Get off me, terrone." He slapped his hand away, still laughing. He glanced over and caught Melone's gaze. The smile on his face was the sweetest Melone had ever seen it and his heart melted at the sight. Ghiaccio looked away quickly. Melone drained the next glass just as fast.

"I'm done, I'm gonna go bug Sciuts and Rizo." Formaggio stood up and left the room.

"Let's take a break, we can come back to it later. Maybe Riz and Pro will join us once Blue and Mag are too smashed. They're better at teaching anyways." Illuso stood and gestured to Pesci who followed. They rifled through the fridge and cabinets for snacks.

"Take it easy, bambino. Have you eaten anything today?" Gelato was watching Melone pour himself yet another glass.

"Yes." Melone didn't look up.

"That's going to hit you faster than you think." Gelato plucked a bag of chips out of Pesci's arms as he passed. He tossed it to Melone. "Eat something."

"Come, bello, sit with me." Sorbet extended a hand to Gelato who winked at Melone as he left. Melone saw Ghiaccio still sitting at the table drinking his beer. He took another sip of wine. He felt nervous but knew he should play it off like nothing was wrong for the sake of Ghiaccio and everyone else. So Melone decided to do what he did best: flirt.

"You have a great poker face," Melone said. Ghiaccio looked up at him and smiled.

"It's not that hard to fool them into folding. Illuso isn't as good as he thinks he is, and Formaggio is fucking brain damaged when he's drunk." Ghiaccio smirked. Melone swallowed his nerves with the last of his wine and set down his glass. He walked over to Ghiaccio and sat down in his lap, wrapping his arms lazily around Ghiaccio's neck.

"You're not much better when you're drunk, are you Glacé? You say all kinds of things you regret the next day." Melone softened his gaze as he looked at the bewildered look on Ghiaccio's face. He leaned in close and whispered his next words, "I like you when you're drunk, you loosen up a lot. Even if you do regret it the next day."

Melone loosened his hold on Ghiaccio and made to stand up when he felt hands on his waist pull him back down. Ghiaccio's lips captured his. He pulled away looking flushed.

"Some regrets are worth making," he said. Melone just looked at him. A regret. That's all Melone was, just a fun thing in the moment. That's all he needed to hear. He pulled out of Ghiaccio's grasp and picked up his empty glass. He glanced back once before walking out of the room.