Abbacchio Babysits for a Few Minutes

"Please, can you do me this favor? I'm begging! This is important! Can you babysit this kid for me?" Mista said through the phone.

Abbacchio sighed. He was in the middle of driving. "I don't want to take care of your brat."

"It's not my kid. It's Bucciarati's kid."

"What?"

"Yeah, and don't you have a crush on him?"

"I do. Wait, no! I don't. Well, yeah— It's none of your business! So, you're telling me he's not a virgin? Damn it! Wait, he's not married. I thought he was the type to start a family after he got married."

"I think he found Narancia in a trash can. I don't know. Oh, and I already left the house."

"So, he's at your house?"

"No, he's locked inside Bucciarati's house. I put the keys under the doormat."

"You put the keys under the doormat instead of waiting and giving them to me?"

"I gotta go, man! Oh, and I may have microwaved some food and forgot to remove the fork."

"Damn it, Mista!" Abbacchio ended the call, turned on his siren, and stepped on the gas pedal, driving to Bucciarati's house.

He parked nearby and noticed the keys were under the welcome mat but on top of it.

"Ugh, idiot," he mumbled.

Abbacchio picked up the keys and went inside. The room was surprisingly tidy despite the chaos Mista could make. As for Narancia, he sat on the sofa with an almost empty bowl of popcorn, watching TV.

"Hello," he said.

"Is that popcorn you're eating?"

The boy nodded his head. "Mista made me something."

Right, the microwave. Abbacchio ran to the kitchen, but Mista must've forgotten to turn the microwave on. There was a plate of macaroni and cheese with a large amount of broccoli when he looked inside.

He was unaware of Narancia's presence.

"Can you eat the broccoli for me?" the toddler asked. "I'll give you something." He brought out his hands, revealing saliva-covered popcorn.

"Gross, absolutely not!"

"Dad doesn't like it when I don't eat my vegetables." He gave puppy eyes.

"Don't you want to make your dad happy?"

"But he's not here."

"Then I'll just tell him you didn't eat your vegetables. Eat them, or your dad will ground you."

Narancia hit Abbacchio's leg. It didn't hurt but annoyed him.

"What was that for, you brat?" raised the cop's voice.

"I don't like you!" he yelled, pouting.

The doorbell rang.

"Dad!" Narancia ran to the door.

"Wait! It could be a stranger!" Abbacchio chased after him.

The toddler struggled to open the door, but whoever was on the other door had the key and unlocked it.

"Abbacchio?" Bucciarati called out. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Did Mista leave to go on a date?"

"Is that what Mista's doing?"

"I don't know. Did he forget to warm up the macaroni and cheese before he left?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, he's on a date with someone."

"Ugh, idiot!" Abbacchio clenched his fists.

Narancia laughed.

"Okay, time for bed." Bucciarati carried his son and took him upstairs to sleep. After that, he returned to the living room and sat on the couch, legs crossed. "So, Abbacchio, you're not doing anything, are you?"

"No." He sat down next to him. "I'm not. So, uh, how long have you had that kid?"

"Narancia?" He switched the channel to a fishing show. "Someone abandoned him. I couldn't leave him there. Besides, I always wanted a family."

"A family, huh? You always spoke highly about your parents despite them being divorced."

Bucciarati rested on Abbacchio's shoulder. "Yeah. Maybe one day I'll get married. Although, I wonder if the person knows I like them."

"W-who is it?"

He giggled. "I thought you'd know. Mista told me who you had a crush on."

"That loudmouth. I guess I should thank him."

Narancia ran down the stairs. "Are you two in love?"

"I thought I told you it was time for bed," a blushing Bucciarati dodged the question.

Narancia stared at Abbacchio. They had just met, and the cop had been harsh to him. He probably hated him, which made Abbacchio even more nervous.

"I never ate my macaroni and cheese. I didn't even eat the broccoli," the toddler said.

"Oh, right! I was about to fix that before you came in," Abbacchio said. He picked up Narancia to take him to the kitchen until he realized something. "Wait, hold on, why would you hire Mista to babysit Narancia?"

"Fugo is usually the babysitter, but his family kicked him out of the house. I had to find a home for him to live in."

"Ugh, rich people. Let's move him in with us. How hard can it be to raise a small child and a teenager?"

"Oh, you're living with me now?" Bucciarati asked.

Abbacchio turned red. "Oops, did I say that? We're supposed to go on a dinner date first, right?"

"Narancia, could you go into the kitchen, please?"

Abbacchio put him on the floor, so he moved around and did as Bucciarati asked.

Bucciarati got up from the couch and pinned Abbacchio to the wall. The cop felt his heart racing.

"I don't plan on taking things slow. I wanted you for a while, Leone." Bucciarati's lips got closer to his. When they touched, their lips locked. He withdrew to talk. "Don't you feel the same?"

"Of course, Bruno!" Then he reversed the situation, pinning Bucciarati. "I've been waiting for this for a while." He slid his tongue inside his.

"Dad, I'm hungry!" whined Narancia.

Abbacchio withdrew and wiped the trail of saliva. "We should feed him."

"Alright, let me tell Mista how lazy he was at his job." Bucciarati was about to dial him.

"No, no. Let me. He'll listen to me."