Time flew by, days spent in a simple routine, Giorno quickly becoming the sun at the center of his orbit- or however planets and shit worked. He was officially a manager at his legal job and that was kind of cool (he'd never been any kind of boss before) and the days became busier but in a good way. Things were going great, which made the sudden turn for the worse all the more jarring, when one bright summer day- somebody seemed to pluck the sun right out of the sky.
It had been raining nearly constantly for almost an entire week straight, and things had been so very quiet. His gang and his job not so much, but his beautiful golden boy had been busy and then suddenly incommunicado. Mista was a laid-back guy in general, he didn't care for people chatting him up all the time and he didn't keep tabs on people (unless it was a job and then, hey well that was a job), so the radio silence didn't set off any alarm-bells immediately.
Giorno had a very successful life outside of Mista and he respected that- hell, he loved it. Giorno had crazy hours at the hospital and his classes had started and he joined the fencing team because it looked cool and he volunteered at the animal shelter and Trish liked taking him clubbing and he had started going to Buccelati's book club- point was Giorno was a very busy guy. But around the third day of not even a good morning text... Mista broke.
Making his way to the blond's apartment, he knocked three times, and after a few moments without an answer he slipped out the spare key. Giorno's place always looked full of life, lived in and yet still immaculate. Not a single object out of place- even Mista's comic books were still neatly stacked where he left them, a reciept bookmarking his place and a fancy real bookmark for where Giorno left off. The only sign that maybe something wasn't right were the plants. Touching his fingers to the dirt and looking at the slight wilt to the leaves, he saw they hadn't been watered in a few days.
Upon seeing him, the tiny birds in their extravagant cage began chirping up at him, food close to empty and water running low. Something was definitely not right- those birds and these plants were Giorno's pride and joy. The parakeet liked Mista more than the songbirds, sitting amiably on his shoulder as he refilled the food and water the way he saw Giorno do it. He needed to figure out what happened. He was all alone in the apartment so... so maybe he could get away with trying something really dumb.
But it might just work.
Jostling the parakeet onto his hand, Mista focused and whispered, as imploring as he could, "alright Gold Experience, buddy, pal, we gotta find Giorno, so if you secretly know how to talk, now would be a good time to do it."
The bird just side-eyed him, before cheeping and bouncing around on his hand, pecking his beak down randomly. Yeah, okay, he wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it probably should have been that.
His personal phone suddenly rang, catching him before he could feel too stupid and embarassed over talking all serious to a bird, raising it up to his ear with a "pronto?"
A slightly fuzzy and faked-jovial voice answered, "hello Mista, it's me, Jonathan! How are you today?"
Okay, now Giorno's dad was calling him, "uh hi, Mr. Joestar, I'm good? How about you?"
He was now apparently making small talk with Giorno's dad, "oh I'm fine, I'm fine. You ah- wouldn't happen to have seen my son recently, would you?"
He was now positive Giorno was missing, "no, no sir I haven't."
But Mista would find him.
The first step would be figuring out where the blond was last, which would seem to be here luckily enough. Giorno's schoolbag was laid out on a chair, still full of his textbooks that meant he hadn't stopped to study, and a few cleaned scrubs were left out on his bed, work shoes and bag gone, but his car still in the lot. There were no signs of a scuffle, so he must have been nabbed somewhere between here and his way to work at the hospital.
Mista channeled his inner crime detective, summoning up all the things he had learned from watching about 15 seasons combined of television crime drama. After about three hours of finding no leads (all of Giorno's neighbors were old people, hungover frat boys, or one very crazy cat lady), no evidence, nothing- he finally caved and asked the gang for help.
In about 30 minutes and with some prodding from Buccelati, Abbachio pinpointed the blond to a warehouse down in the east side, by the docks. Fugo helpfully provided a list with the kidnappers names and faces, Narancia gave him his switchblade for luck, and Trish just told him to "call the cops, you dramatic idiot".
"You don't understand Trish, I gotta rescue him," Buccelati clapped a hand on his shoulder as Trish groaned to the side.
"Are you certain about this? It'll be dangerous. There are four people involved in this kidnapping- all of whom have violent histories."
Okay, he really didn't need to know how many people were involved but damnit, "I gotta do this- no matter the danger. Giorno's in big trouble and what kind of guy would I be if I didn't save him?"
Buccelati nodded proudly, "you are a good man, Mista."
"And uh hey, if I like- kill one of the thugs then there will only be three scary dudes so n-no problem right?"
Everyone nodded at that, Narancia helpfully adding a halting "definitely! Good plan!"
Mista nodded too, and now that he and everyone else had finished nodding, it was time to get down to business. Loading up his motorcycle with rope, loading himself up with ammo, Mista set off. Time to be a hero. Like Clint Eastwood or- or Bruce Lee. Wait no, he was gonna be Batman.
It took 20 minutes to get to the warehouse, and another few minutes to case it out. Nobody was keeping watch in the outside, which meant they were probably all keeping eyes on the doors, most of which were closed or half-open. Well if they were watching the ground, Mista thought spying the roof of the warehouse, they probably wouldn't see him come from above. Quickly scaling up the side of the warehouse- he really needed to do more parkour with Narancia, he was out of practice- Mista made it to the roof, if breathing heavily.
There were glass skylights, a few broken, but he spotted blurry blobs through one very gross but intact one and didn't see any in the others. A yellow shape that looked like it was sitting down, a yellow shape in front and to the side, a purplish shape behind what had to be Giorno, and two more further behind. They were all just standing around Giorno- in perfect range if he dropped in from this skylight like a badass. The thought of what could be happening to his poor angel made his blood boil, so he quickly but securely attached the rope to a roof-mounted venty thing that looked pretty well bolted down, did some quick math on how far the drop was, tied some rope, and then kicked the skylight pane as hard as he could, dislodging it and jumping down with a yell.
He had caught all the bastards off guard, shouting "alright assholes- let Giorno go or I'll... blow... uh"
Dio Brando was standing disinterestedly in front of a roughed up Giorno, sneering at the sight of him, Vanilla Ice untying the blond from behind, two random people with guns staring shocked still. He could see boots poking out of a doorway to the side.
Giorno was looking at him with wide eyes, blue and watery- he had a split lip and some nasty bruises, a tiny cut on his temple, "Mista?"
Dio sneered impossibly harder, "you are late, we already took care of everything so you can run along now."
Vanilla Ice had cut through whatever the last of the binding was, Giorno immediately shooting up to hug Mista tight, "you came to save me."
Mista dropped his pistol in favor of wrapping arms around the blond, "of course I did-"
"What are you talking about? I saved him!" Dio snapped in exasperation.
Ignoring him, Mista moved to cup bruised cheeks, "do I gotta take you to the hospital? They hurt you real bad? It looks like they did-"
"No, no I'm- it's okay," it didn't look okay, "I'm just so happy you are here."
Dio was half-yelling, "I'm right here! I literally am right here, having just saved you!"
The blond had buried his face into Mista's shoulder, holding almost painfully tight, sirens beginning to wail in the distance, "thank you, I...", Mista just held tighter, patting a thin shoulder since the blond seemed content to not continue speaking.
Dio was in the background being consoled by his entourage, "what am I- chopped liver?", "no, no boss, you did good," "yeah he may not have spoken to you but I'm sure he appreciated it," Vanilla said nothing but his silence was probably comforting.
Dio cleared out before the police arrived, making sure to point his most murderous glare at the gunman, leaving them standing in the middle of the warehouse. In a fortuitous chain of events Josuke and Okuyasu were on call, pulling up and both freaking out at Giorno. Luckily they paid no mind to Mista who was trying to cover his pistol and hide his ammo better. Dio had apparently left the beaten up kidnappers piled high in a broom closet, and at the mention of his name both cops sighed heavily.
"No offense Giorno but your dad spells nothing but paperwork," Josuke started, smoothing out his crazy pompadour as he inspected the scene, Okuyasu taking notes diligently by his side with surprisingly neat handwriting.
They mostly questioned Giorno, thankfully leaving Mista and his non-involvement as a footnote. Guess it had perks becoming involved in the family... and not actually doing much. They were curious about the broken skylight and rope, but Giorno helped him play it off 'no officer it was already broken, I just used a rope to-you know, like Batman'. The police interrogation went pretty smooth, and they were let go in no time at all, Giorno pressing himself up behind Mista on his motorcycle as they sped off to Mista's apartment.
Giorno was sat on the couch as the gunman set the kettle on, grabbed the first aid kit, and brought over a cup of hot tea and a package of cookies he kept on hand for the blond. Giorno was very still while Mista blotted and cleaned all the cuts, never making a sound even though Mista wasn't the most naturally gentle guy out there. When he was all patched up and munching on some cookies, already relaxing into the couch and booting up Mista's Netflix and finding something weird to mess up the algorithm, Mista called up Buccelati.
His boss answered on the first ring, a curt "you made it safe?"
"Yeah boss, I'm good," he could hear Narancia in the background talking loudly.
"Is Giorno okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine," he could pick out his name and a 'he will be missed', "uh is Narancia talking about me?"
"Oh, yes, he insisted we have a funeral for you."
"Huh. Well tell him I'm not dead. I'll be back in tomorrow."
Buccelati hummed, "take care," before hanging up.
Grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and a towel to wrap it with, Mista meandered back over to the couch only to find Giorno gone- again. Mista stared in panic, an episode of Nailed It still running on the television, and where could he-
"Oh, you finished your call already?"
Squealing loudly, the gangster (who has killed people) whipped around to face a smiling Giorno, fresh from the shower with his hair still dripping.
"Jesus, Giorno, gonna give a guy heart problems or something," Mista griped, clutching his chest, "wait I might actually- my left arm is all tingly."
Giorno merely laughed, patting Mista's shoulder, "sorry but you are still a bit too young for that sort of thing. I really wanted a shower, plus it was nice to get up, I had been stuck in a chair for half a day."
The way he nonchalantly brushed off getting kidnapped had Mista's heart squeezing-and must have shown on his face, "it's alright, I've been kidnapped before, because of both fathers- oh no, I didn't mean to make you sadder-"
"Move in with me," blurted out before he caught up with his own racing thoughts.
Giorno was wide eyed, speechless and unmoving, "uh, n-not here, but like, we can get a place together. And I can keep you safe."
"You want to live together?"
I mean- they kind of were already doing that, just in two different places, "uh yeah if that's okay-"
"I had already started looking at places, but I wasn't sure about your feelings on the matter."
Of course, "where ever you want me to go, I'll go."