Warming the Ice

[madimpossibledreamer]

Hope everyone that celebrates the holidays has good ones, and for the rest, that you've had a great day!

If you're wanting a strictly happy story, I'd recommend checking out previous years.  I started writing this a few weeks back and it definitely went some unexpectedly melancholy but ultimately fluffyish directions.

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure
Summary: Giorno's melancholy, but Mista's loyalty and love allows him to make a difference.  Post VA, so spoilers for Part 5.
Word Count: 755
Rating: Gen
Pairing: Giorno/Mista

         “Oh, I won’t need you,” Giorno states dismissively.
         Mista had already noticed the bonus.  Everyone had.  Several of them have already run off to spend it.  Many are enjoying the idea that they can spend time with their families, or at least those they treat as famiglia.  “If you say so, Don Giovanna,” he responds quietly, reluctantly, because he hasn’t seen the blond this closed off in a long time.  He lingers, just in case the man changes his mind, but there’s no sign of it.
         He attends midnight Mass, and while he usually greatly enjoys himself, this year he’s busy worrying about Giorno.  He hasn’t been this bad since…he swallows.  Since right after they beat Diavolo.  Since the cost of all the friends they lost could sink in.  Giorno’s pretty good about hiding how he feels, but Mista’s been the gun at his side for a while, and he only gets his cold and distant—cruel, almost—when he thinks he’s having to hide a weakness.  He’s scared of actually getting close to anyone.  It’d make sense if it was just a fear of losing everyone again, or even of having exploitable vulnerabilities, but sometimes it seems like Giorno’s scared of letting anyone close because they could hurt him.  Which makes Guido’s heart ache.  He’d sooner shoot off one of his own hands than hurt the man.  It’s easy enough for Giorno to distract anyone from prying too deeply with his golden charisma, but Mista’s been here, watching, for years.
         He almost doesn’t notice when the service is over.  He considers going back to his own empty apartment briefly, very briefly, before his hands on the steering wheel make the decision for him.
         His Boss is just…still.  Staring out a window.  Which he does, sometimes, while brooding.
         “Giorno?” he asks quietly, and the man actually startles.
         “Mista?  Did you need something?”  Don Giovanna’s tone is almost perfect, barely showing any sign of his surprise.
         He shrugs, but his heart hurts.  GioGio’s acting like he’s not part of the picture at all, and there are occasional glimpses he gets that paint a picture he really doesn’t like.  “Realized I didn’t really have anywhere to go, so I might as well stay here with you.”
         Giovanna frowns.  “Trish wasn’t available?”
         Mista messes with his hair guiltily.  He’s messing this up.  “She’s got a special event, but that’s beside the point.  I guess I worded that wrong.  You’re not a second choice.”
         “Well, in Japan, only couples spend Christmas Eve together.”  The Don’s not looking at him as he speaks, and the tone is as melodic yet detached as ever, but there’s something very telling about the lack of expression.  It’s more a case of what’s missing than what’s actually there.
         Mista blinks.  For a second, he’s not sure why that matters, and then realizes in the end it doesn’t.  A sudden burst of courage allows him to say, “Giorno, I will be whatever you need me to be.”  It’s still weird thinking about the fact that Giorno’s not actually Italian.  Apart from the general lack of gestures as he speaks, he could easily be mistaken for a native, and not just in terms of language.  Then again, he’s been improving even that the longer he’s been on the ‘throne’.
         Giorno glances at him and smiles, small but fond.  “In that case, Mista, I would wish for you to be nothing but yourself.”
         “He’s asking you out!” Sette exclaims excitedly, just as Mista blushes.
         Giorno sighs quietly, stretching and standing from where he’s secreted himself in the window.  Like his weird, cool ear trick, honestly.  “You truly do want this?”
         There’s no outward sign of it, but Giorno’s fragile, here and now.
         “Please, I’ve been falling in love with you since we met.  You’re one of the most interesting, cleverest, strongest, most awesome people I know.  It’s not just loyalty you got from me, Boss.”  It’s a terrible confession and they both know it, but Giorno doesn’t appear disappointed.
         He looks pleased, actually.  It’s small and muted but it’s there.  “I think under the circumstances, you may call me Giorno.”
         Mista doesn’t bother to hold his own smile back.  He’s a disaster around pretty people.  At least GioGio doesn’t seem to mind.  Likes it, actually.  He reaches out a hand, grabbing Giorno’s own, and the Don doesn’t seem to mind how hairy his hands are, compared to the perfection that is Giorno’s hands, either.  “So, uh, what are some other Japanese Christmas traditions I should know about?”