Cure to Loneliness

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure
Summary: Giorno finally confesses, and it isn't what Mista thought.
Word Count: 940
Spoilers for the end of Vento Aureo/Golden Wind.
Occurs after Vulnerable
Spoilers are minor this time, there is some mild angst though

 

         Giorno searches through several different locations, finding each inadequate and getting frustrated, for some reason. They do pass the elderly couple, who’s leaving, and who happen to have bought even more pastries to give them, along with the genuinely expressed hope they’ll see both of the ‘nice young men’ again. They’re not exactly children, and Mista’s had a little more in the way of sweets than he cares for, today, but he’s not about to refuse and the Pistols are starting to get a little hungry again, so it works out. They’re not too picky, as long as it’s food.
         Apparently, in the most out of the way area, Giorno seems vaguely satisfied, though for someone usually so decisive, he seems a little hesitant and unsure of how to start, now, which suddenly makes Mista wonder, wait, was he stalling? That’s strange.
         “I...before I begin, Mista, I want to make it clear, you are under no obligation to acknowledge any of this, and if you wish to transfer, that is fine.” Okay, now Mista’s starting to get worried, too. How bad is what Giorno’s going to say?
         With that pause, though, the Don seems like he wants an answer of some kind, so, hesitantly, Guido gives one. “Uh. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can say that’ll scare me that much, but...thanks?”
         The nod is probably a bit more abrupt than Giorno means it, but the younger man is definitely feeling an attack of the nerves, which...honestly, Mista wasn’t sure he got scared like that. Not exactly like that, anyway.
         “I’ve been...thinking, lately. A lot. About things like...loneliness, and how, perhaps, we need this kind of relaxation more often.” Blue eyes dart through the plants like he’s trying to find the reptiles in there, or maybe just some answers.
         Mista’s heart falls. Oh. Oh shit. Still, he’s gotta be the responsible one here, doesn’t he? “So you need a wingman? I’m happy to help out!”
         Giorno’s finally looking at him, even if it’s a weird look. Maybe he doesn’t have enough forced cheer in his voice, or maybe it’s something in his expression? The man’s always been ridiculously perceptive. “You would.” It’s his utterly neutral tone that says Mista’s messed up somehow.
         “Absolutely. If anyone deserves to be happy, Giorno, it’s you.” Okay, yeah, good job, that’s gotta sound more natural, because he absolutely believes it.
         He’s taken aback, a little, as Giorno snorts, glancing down, and then back up, and that look—
         He’s actually smiling, and not bothering to hide it, but there’s also...a fond resignation in his expression, too? Why? “And if I believe my greatest happiness could be found at your side? Are you prepared to serve as your own wingman, Guido?”
         A moment passes where Mista can’t exactly comprehend the words before the Pistols, satiated by the pastry, all burst out at once, Uno proudly announcing, “We’ll do it!” while the rest exclaim a bunch of excited yelling incoherently.
         The smile grows. “Trish advised me to be a little more...straightforward, in expressing my feelings. I suppose she was right.”
         “She usually is,” Mista admits, suddenly giddy, because, Giorno is absolutely out of his league, but it’s Giorno. Clearly, he’s thought about it, because he thinks about everything very, very thoroughly, and the fact that he thinks Mista can make him happy? Screw it, Mista’s pulling out all of the stops. All of them. And also he hasn’t been misreading everything or getting a little too self-conscious because it’s all real. “Sheila E’s going to be an insufferable pain, because she was right, too, but you know, I don’t even care, because I can absolutely rub this in her face and she can just deal with it.”
         Giorno shakes his head, but he’s still smiling, even as he holds out a hand shyly and quickly looks away when Mista actually links them together. He considers briefly apologizing for having hairy hands, but nah, that’s probably one of those things Giorno thought about when considering any of this. “Don’t be too cruel.”
         “Eh. I’m just...not that great about keeping this kinda thing a secret, and if I’m happy, I’m happy,” he shrugs, because it really was a date and he’s grinning widely.
         “That’s one of the things I find attractive about you,” Giorno admits, and at this rate Mista’s ego is never going to deflate and he doesn’t even care. “Perhaps you could teach me how to be more expressive? I don’t want to change myself entirely, of course, but I find difficulties in being truly honest even with those I care about, and don’t wish to.”
         Mista brings their joined hands to his lips to kiss, and yeah, the Don’s actually blushing, just a bit, now. “I’m not sure I’m too much of a teacher, but I’d definitely try for you, Giorno.”
         They don’t quite make it to a good spot along the street for Giorno to turn the car back from the flower. The blond’s steps slow, and Mista’s attention, formerly happily occupied with the man at his side, are suddenly wide awake, and he’s kind of pissed. Not going to make any sudden movements until he’s instructed, but seriously, pissed.
         “At least we were able to escape work for a little while,” Giorno sighs, letting go of his hand, and they simultaneously act, the Don turning a bicycle into a shield of vines to cover Mista as he squeezes off a few warning shots at the ambush waiting behind cars of their own.
         “Always love working with you, Giorno,” Guido admits, even as his concentration narrows to taking the next shot—there’s one down, good.