Disclaimer: Don't own KHR.

AKA: My Bad.

There were concerns fluttering the underground world of the Vongola Primo's sexuality. Primo was a very calm, cool, and collected man who always held a placid smile, willed by good intentions and most definitely captured the hearts of many women in the local village. He knew everyone by name, never forgot a face, and insisted on doing good deeds not for the money, but for the safety of those around them. It wasn't long before his investments and father's money allowed him to establish a new family, and many already both respected and feared him.

This little man, who was slightly shorter than most of his guardians, save the one who was nearly ten years his junior. His expression could switch from whimsical and artistic to grim and grotesque in the blink of an eye, yet no one had ever seen him with a woman. 'round his twentieth birthday, most would expect for him to take over his father's business and marry a rich woman.

Well, they were wrong indeed. His twentieth birthday quickly became his twenty-first, which rolled into his twenty-second, and by the twenty-third birthday when there appeared to be no dame to his liking, many questioned his tastes. In the world of socialites and classy villagers, women were competing to become his beau. In a different realm, where Vongola was settling into the mafia world and what it had to offer, there was no one but the Shimon family who accepted them wholeheartedly, while others wondered why on earth Giotto would not settle down. Sure, he was a man at the peak of his age, but any woman he desired he could easily get.

The first assumption was that he didn't trust anyone outside the family. It seemed very obvious, but with his odd choices in guardians – a musician, minister, French policeman, Earth King's sissy son, world-renowned illusionist and of course, Primo's best friend himself – it showed the man was open to anyone. So the second conclusion was that he simply hadn't found "the one." Primo shrugged it off in a fit of chuckles, and the rumors quickly died.

But no one had ever seen a woman hold him intimately, and after the media caught sight of Primo's best friend in a very powerful moment, emotionally driven and powerful (although G had simply grabbed his hand at the wrong time and Primo's smiling wasn't helping), they came to one assumption in particular.

Vongola Primo, Giotto of the Vongola Famiglia, was gay.

And specifically, Giotto was gay for G, storm guardian of the Vongola Famiglia.

Of course G quickly diminished all rumors (or perhaps made them worse) as he shot all those who claimed he was of the homosexual preference with his best friend of all people in places that although would not be severe, would tell that he meant business.

But as said, he perhaps simply made the rumors worse with his flustered appearance. Giotto hadn't helped; instead laughing at the rumors, but no matter what extent his righthand-man went in order to clear Primo's name, the sky boss himself never denied it.

So the rumor would eventually fade away, and G's sanity would remain intact (if that bastard flutist and sissy brat didn't get to him first) so long as no one questioned his best friend's sexuality again. After all, he thought to himself reassuringly, he'd known Giotto since they were in diapers. Giotto occasionally had girlfriends through their childhood, but they never lasted long.

He shuffled through the Vongola mansion, files in hand and eyebrows knitted together troublesomely as his body guided him instinctively to the sky boss's office. The new mission specs were troublesome, and he was hoping to make sense of them as soon as they were overseen by his best friend.

At the first knock, no one answered. This was normal since Giotto was very involved with his work. By the second knock, there was always a grunt of a light, "Come in," when knuckles met the door. Finally by the third knock, G grew paranoid and rapidly went for the fourth knock. He never had to knock a fourth time.

After a few shuffles of paper – or what G could hear – there was another sound, and a soft laugh. "Come in."

Good. G looked back to his papers, casually striding into the office as he looked over the papers again.

"Ah, back from your mission already?" Giotto's smile could be sensed from his tone.

G nodded, suddenly wrinkling his brow again as he tried to make sense of the files. Sooner or later he would end up needing reading glasses. "I sent the brat out like you told me to in order to teach him a lesson. Still think someone more capable should have gone with him."

"He needs to learn how to defend himself. And you must watch your tongue – whether you approve or not, Lampo is my lightning guardian." Giotto laughed again and there was a creak in the desk. "Perhaps the next mission, you can go with him."

"Nuh-uh. No way." G arched an eyebrow, papers closer to his face before he gave up and sighed. "Oil and water don't mix."

"Red and green make very pretty Christmas colors though, don't you think?"

"Not funny."

"Very well, tell me what I need to hear."

"Right. I'm having a very hard time locating Alaude. That guy's still somewhere around the world apparently tracking down Daemon." G arched a wary eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. "There are two families who wish to discuss some important business with you: the Cavallone and Shimon Famigl—"

"Mm? You had things you wanted to discuss with me?"

G blinked, eyes not lifting from the paper. "No. Or rather, the bosses do—"

"It's about establishing security and whatnot." The voice that apparently wasn't Giotto's answered swiftly. It was deeper…more suave…and calm. "You're still very new to the whole mafia business and Cavallone Primo and I want to make sure you're not threatened by the time Vongola's name has spread world-wide."

G looked up. And immediately felt obligated to swallow the large lump in his throat.

After all, he would never have suspected to find Shimon Primo, aka Cozart, sitting in his best friend's chair. Truth be told, he didn't expect Giotto to be straddling his lap, either. Shimon Primo's hand held onto Vongola Primo's hip casually, eyes staring upward with a smile spread across his face.

"You don't think I can handle being a mafia boss by myself? I've told you countless times to trust my intuition." Giotto's arm looped around Shimon Primo's neck, eyebrow arched unpleasantly as a soft chuckle left Cozart's lips.

"I only want you to be safe." Cozart's hand made it to Giotto's cheek and he sweetly kissed the man above him. "You're a well-respected man and we wouldn't want people to think they can easily fool you."

"They can't," Giotto agreed. "Alright. G, I'll discuss it with you later."

The redhead had been standing by the door for quite some time now. He barely registered the fact the papers in his hand had slipped out of his hand, or the look that spread across Giotto's face before he lowered himself and kissed Cozart lovingly on the face lips.

"I love you."

"Mm, love you too."

"I'm just…" G's voice raised an octave. He arched an eyebrow, mouth opening before closing again. "…yeah."

Without another word, the storm guardian and righthand-man left the room, careful to close the door behind him.

The next day, many patients who were mysteriously shot in non-vital places who recalled remembering nothing of the shooter than a strange mop of red hair and crimson tattoo received a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter for an assumption that…apparently was true.

xxxx

Author's note:

Title: Also Known As: My Bad. Basically just G saying "Oops" or "I'm sorry", but in you know, our way, it would be "My bad." So no, I didn't do that as a typo or anything. Erm. Cozart x Giotto is so warm and fuzzy in my heart right now. No lie. And it's almost one over here, I was delirious when I wrote this, haha.