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Panic

Summary:

It seemed at this point everyone had forgotten Giorno which he couldn’t help be grateful for with the searing heat radiating off his face. This whole conversation had really just…spun out of control. A giant misunderstanding, really.

It had been innocent healing. Giorno hadn’t even thought of what it might look like to everyone else. It didn’t even hit him that Mista’s shrieks could sound like moans to an ignorant third party.

Notes:

My final fic for giomisweek2019! Very dumb but very fun to write <3

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Mista and Narancia had not stopped arguing ever since they had returned to the turtle. Fugo had grown bored of their disagreements about ten minutes in. Abbacchio was probably never even listening. Bruno was coincidentally somewhere else and Trish was holding back laughter, quite possibly the first time she had smiled at the pair since coming under the gang’s protection. Giorno found himself listening and trying not to grow flustered at the topic of discussion.

“How many times do I have to say it, Narancia? It wasn’t like that!”

“Oh, it looked like it,” Narancia hissed, eyes narrowed. “And in public too. Corrupting sweet, baby Giorno! You are disgusting!”

Trish let out an audible giggle which got both Mista to glare at her and Narancia to turn his attention onto Giorno. The entire hour this conversation has been going on, Narancia’s full attention had been on Mista but now it looked like Giorno’s turn.

“Giorno, how could you stoop so low?”

Giorno blinked. Unsure if he heard Narancia right.

Narancia continued, unaware or in complete disregard of Giorno’s confusion, “Out of all people, you decide Mista? Come on, like we get it, options are limited but him? You don’t have to lower your standards that much.”

“What the hell!?” Mista yelped, red in the face and pouting. “How many times do I have to tell you it is not like that!?”

“Maybe when you stop lying!” Narancia spun around and jabbed his finger into Mista’s chest. “Giorno is a literal child and you took advantage of him.”

“What are you talking about? We didn’t do anything!”

Trish was outwardly cackling now. “Oh yeah, Giorno’s a child, better shield him from all the murder and shit. Also," she leaned forward on her knees, grinning at Mista and Narancia, "let's be real. Mista doesn't have a dominant bone in his body."

Mista opened his mouth to argue but Fugo cut in.

“She’s kind of right.”

Narancia and Mista both started yelling, their voices mixing together and none of their speech was coherent. Mixed with Trish’s laughter, it was impossible to hear a thing they were saying. Fugo went back to his book with the widest grin Giorno has ever seen.

It seemed at this point everyone had forgotten Giorno which he couldn’t help be grateful for with the searing heat radiating off his face. This whole conversation had really just…spun out of control. A giant misunderstanding, really.

It had been innocent healing. Giorno hadn’t even thought of what it might look like to everyone else. It didn’t even hit him that Mista’s shrieks could sound like moans to an ignorant third party.

…and Narancia’s comment. Giorno wasn’t even sure what to make of that. Giorno didn’t think anything was wrong with Mista. Quite frankly, Giorno found himself growing rather fond of him, though he had never seen Mista in a romantic or sexual light. The only thing Giorno could think of that was wrong with Mista was that he was a guy too…but judging by the follow-up comments, Narancia didn't even seem worried about that part. The gay part wasn’t the issue. It was just a judgment on Mista which, by the sounds of it, was more teasing than anything else.

Oh God, do they actually think I gave Mista a blowjob? No, they can’t really think that…can they?

Giorno watched as Bruno entered the turtle and silence fell on the group. Narancia snapped his mouth shut with a smirk while Mista glared, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“We should rest,” Bruno said, exhaustion pulling at his features. “It’s been a long night.”

“I’ll say,” Narancia jeered but yelped as Mista kicked him in the shins.

Bruno didn’t even spare the two a glance as he made his way towards the loveseat Abbacchio was sitting on and collapsed onto it, his head lolling to the side to rest on the other’s shoulder.

“Mista take first watch. Abbacchio will take second. Fugo third. Everyone else go to sleep.”

“If you’re quick, you can save a spot for your boyfriend,” Trish cooed into his ear.

Giorno stared at her, his heart racing at the word. Boyfriend. Giorno never had someone like that in his life, real or fictional.

“He’s not-”

“I know, I know,” she waved him off. “I think they are just messing with you guys. It’s a joke, crack a smile.”

Trish stared, waiting for the smile that Giorno couldn’t bring forth. Why would he when he was going through a bit of a crisis. Clearly, his poker face wasn’t all that great as Trish’s expression softened.

Oh, do you…ya know,” she paused and thought her next words carefully, “swing that way?”

Giorno opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut immediately as his eyes scanned the room. Bruno was already passed out and Abbacchio was not far behind. Narancia and Fugo were arguing over the couch though it looked like Fugo was currently winning. Mista claimed the wooden chair in the corner he would use to stand on and keep watch at. Currently, his Stand was seated on the arm, waiting for their midnight snack. No one was watching them but Giorno still felt like every word and action he was going to make was going to be heard by everyone and he wasn’t ready for that. Not at all.

Trish patted his shoulder lightly. “No worries, your secret is safe.” She bit her lip in consideration. “If you ever want to talk…”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Giorno rushed.

This was already becoming too much for him. He already had his own thoughts to sort out, he wasn’t sure he was really ready to explain that to someone else.

“Well, good night,” Trish shrugged her shoulders awkwardly and Giorno wished she wouldn’t and just act like nothing happen. “If you need me-”

"Thanks," Giorno cut her off before she could say any more.

He didn’t necessarily mean to be rude, it was just becoming a lot. First Narancia, then Trish and Fugo and now Giorno’s own brain. It was a lot to take in and after the multiple Stand User fights, Giorno was too exhausted to have a full-blown identity crisis.

Giorno slumped against the wall. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to claim a piece of furniture. Not after watching Narancia and Fugo fight over the couch, only for Trish to come by, grab Narancia by his hair and drag him off to the floor.

He settled on the opposite side of the room, his back in a corner so he could prop his head up better. It wasn’t because Mista was standing watch in perfect view, no matter what Fugo’s wink implied.

Giorno was still trying to come to terms with everything. Mista certainly wasn't a horrible person to look at and he was charming too, in his own right. He was also loyal and determined. Giorno's stomach clenched at the thought of their fight against White Album. He wasn’t sure if the fight would have come out the same way if it had been anyone other than Mista.

Giorno looked over at Mista only to find the gunman already looking at him. Mista flashed Giorno a grin before turning back to his Stand. Giorno ducked his head into his knees, fighting off the burning blush on his face. What was he? A teenage girl fawning over her first crush?

Warmth spread throughout Giorno’s whole body as he thought back to Narancia’s accusation. Giorno couldn't say he hadn't thought about sex before, but he certainly never pictured someone from his real life. Usually, when he thought about it, the person was faceless, nameless, shrouded in a dark shadow. Now, Giorno wasn't sure he could think of anyone other than Mista, with his dark eyes and large hands and wide chest and soft lips…

So maybe he had a crush. Maybe. Giorno wasn’t even sure what to do with that tidbit of information. He didn’t even know if the gunman felt the same way, let alone the logistics of figuring it all out while trying to evade assassins. Hell, one hour ago, Giorno realized he could trust Mista with his life and now he couldn’t get visions of sucking him off out of his mind. The whole thing was beginning to feel like a mindfuck and Giorno’s heart only raced further as he watched Mista yawn and stretch, his freshly healed stomach on full display.

To think Narancia thought they could…Giorno’s face heated up at the thought. Giorno hadn’t ever even kissed anyone, let alone go that far. He wouldn’t even know what to do. The thought of doing those things with Mista had Giorno squirming and he tried to banish the thoughts from his mind. He absolutely did not imagine Mista’s hands in his hair nor the expression of the gunman’s face when Giorno looked up from him in between his legs or what he might taste like… No boners. No boners. No boners.

Giorno closed his eyes, trying to think of anything else other than a non-existent blowjob. How had his life come to this? He knew Bruno’s gang was weird and unique, but he wasn’t expecting identity crises on top of it. Now all Giorno could think about was Mista moaning and groaning and bucking and-

“Hey, Giorno, you still awake?”

Oh fuck, Giorno thought, please don’t let any of this show on my face.

Fluttering his eyes open, Giorno's heart jumped to his throat to see Mista knelt so close beside him, their faces only a few inches apart. In the darkness, Giorno could make out the pinched eyebrows and worried expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Giorno managed to say back.

His voice was just as low as Mista’s but it felt like it rang out across the room loud and clear. God, Giorno hoped no one else was awake. He could already feel his hands growing sweaty. Why did he have to be so goddamn nervous?

The worried expression on Mista’s face lifted, just enough to flash a relieved smile.

“Good, I wanted to make sure you were okay after…all of that.”

Mista’s hand came to his shoulder and even through the layer of clothing Giorno could still feel his warmth. Mista always seemed to be warm. Giorno had felt it when he was healing him earlier and holding down his chest to make him stop squirming.

The memory flashed across his mind, now tainted with Narancia’s misconceptions and Giorno’s dirty thoughts, he wondered how red his face was going to get. He hadn’t even thought about the situation like that at the time but now every time Giorno thought of the bench, all he could think about was Mista moaning, not screaming; Mista squirming in pleasure, not jerking around in pain; Mista breathing out his name, clutching his arms and pressing against his hands-

Giorno’s face had to be glowing red at this point but Mista didn’t seem to notice and Giorno thanked the turtle for the darkness.

“I hope Narancia’s teasing didn’t bother you too much,” Mista continued, squeezing Giorno’s shoulder in a friendly, totally neutral, gesture that had Giorno sucking in a harsh breath. “Narancia can be a bit of an annoying brat. He’ll drop it in a few days.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, but Giorno wasn’t really sure how to properly convey how he was feeling at this point. How does he even say that Narancia’s comments had given him new awareness and now…Giorno wouldn't necessarily mind holding Mista in that fashion?

Admitting it to himself was already too much, judging by the heat radiating off his face with enough force to melt it off. His heart might actually explode and die on him. What a way to go, though, caught up on a blowjob that never even happened.

“Good,” Mista sounded relieved. “I really trust you, you know? You’re really special, Giorno, and I want to stay by your side till the end: however, this whole thing plays out."

Giorno snapped his head up to look at Mista and met his eyes. It was dark but Giorno could just make out the shine in his eyes. Somehow, the darkness made it more intimate, like the two of them were alone. And Mista’s admission had Giorno’s heartstrings in knots. It very much sounded like a confession.

“I trust you too.” And it was the truth. Somehow, over the course of a few days, Mista had grown to be a special part of Giorno’s life. Trust wasn’t something he gave so freely but Mista had earned it well and beyond.  Giorno wasn’t even lying when he said, “You mean a lot to me.”

It had to be the darkness, the lack of light making him seem things. That’s what Giorno was going to tell himself. But he couldn’t shake the idea out of his mind that he saw a matching blush on Mista’s cheeks before he ducked his head grinning.

“Not to be gay about it-” Mista said quietly. His hand slid down Giorno’s arm to rest on top of his hand and all Giorno could think was please be more gay about it. “-I really admire you. I want to follow you wherever you end up going after all this.” There was a brief pause and Mista squeezed Giorno’s hand. “Is that okay?”

Giorno jerked his head in a nod. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to say anything. For once, he was actually at a loss for words. Forget Narancia’s dumb comments earlier, now Giorno’s mind was flooded with images of Giorno and Mista in the future. Maybe even holding hands like this again. Somehow, that had his heart even more of a mess than the thought of giving him a hypothetical blowjob.

“I’d like that,” Giorno finally managed to say.

Using every last ounce of strength and confidence, Giorno managed to flip his hand over to properly hold Mista’s. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and surely Mista could feel the heat from his face now. But Mista didn’t pull away. He just smiled a nervous little thing that only grew as he gripped Giorno’s hand tighter.

They didn’t say anything for a while. Just holding hands in the dark. Giorno wondered how long they could stay like that. Maybe until dawn, when the light from the outside began to refract and cast the room in soft pinks and oranges. It would be nice. Romantic even. Minus the snoring and sleepy sighs from their companions.

“You think we will make it?” Mista asked quietly. It took Giorno a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about the two of them but rather the entirety of the gang.

“Absolutely.” Giorno was confident in this one regard. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Mista’s grin was contagious and Giorno could feel one of his own spreading across his face.

“I’m going to hold you to that, Giogio,” Mist said. “You got so much left to do and I want to be there for it the whole way.”

Now that had to be a confession. Giorno’s heart was going to explode. Who knew Mista had such a way with words that’d get Giorno so tongue-tied. Not to mention that Giorno realized these feelings only a few hours prior and now…well, maybe Giorno’s eyes were deceiving him but it sure looked like Mista was leaning closer, his eyes flickering between Giorno’s eyes and lips.

“You promise?” Giorno couldn’t help but blurt out.

Mista gave him the softest smile in existence. “Absolutely.”

This would be the moment their lips would touch. Giorno could see it clearly in his mind’s eye: Mista’s free hand coming up to cup his cheek, the other intertwining their fingers, Mista’s lips softly pressing against Giorno’s before backing away just enough to press their forwards together…

However, as Mista leaned in, his breath fanning out across Giorno’s face, Narancia happened.

Whether he had woken up or not, neither of them was sure in that moment, but at the loud snort that left the boy, both Mista and Giorno jerked away.

In all his elegance, Giorno’s head hit the wall he had been propped up against. The pain didn’t really register so much as the disappointment in letting go of Mista’s hand. Mista faired not too much better, tipping back from his crouched position and falling onto his ass.

The two sat in still silent mortification. As soon as they realized that Narancia was asleep- yet still such a hindrance to their budding relationship – a peal of nervous yet relieved laughter bubbled out of them. 

They gave each other a smile. Giorno wasn’t sure he had smiled so much in the past couple of years as he had in the past few minutes.

“You should get back to sleep,” Mista finally said, clamoring back to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s fine,” Giorno replied, perhaps a tad too eager. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

Mista seemed to get Giorno’s double meaning as a lazy grin spread across his face. “Yeah? Maybe next time when we are alone.”

Giorno was already thinking of a hundred ways to make that possible.

“I look forward to it.”

Mista hid his face behind his hand, his grin and blush peeking out from behind his fingers. “No pressure or anything.”

"Well, after this evening on the bench, I don't think you have much else to be nervous about," Giorno said, though even referencing the scenario still gave him a healthy flush of embarrassment. "We've already gotten so far, according to Narancia."

Mista bit back a laugh as he bent back down to Giorno’s level. “You’re funny, Giorno.” Mista’s voice softened as he added, “I like that.”

“I like that about you too.”

Neither one of them wanted to stop this, to end this conversation and go to sleep, only to wake up tomorrow and pretend it didn’t happen. But they had to. Mista was supposed to be keeping watch and if the pattern of chaos continued, tomorrow would be another handful of threats to deal with.

Summoning up the last of his courage and nerve, Giorno pressed a quick kiss to Mista’s cheek.

“Until later.” His face was on fire, it had to be, but Giorno had grown used to it by then.

Mista looked like the happiest man on the planet like he had just won a million bucks. His fingers were gently touching the place on his cheek Giorno had kissed and he looked blissed out.

“I’m definitely going to hold you to that.” Mista looked like he wanted to continue but he stood up once more reluctantly. “Good night, Giorno.”

“Good night Mista.”

Giorno watched Mista walk back to his previous position standing up on the wooden chair and leaning against the wall, all the while having the brightest smile on his face. Abbacchio was supposed to take Mista's place in a few hours and Giorno hoped Mista would come to take his spot next to him. It would be nice to wake up together. 

Giorno let that thought drift him to sleep, his heart eager to see Mista in the morning, and even more eager to see what their future may hold. And perhaps Narancia’s accusation could be put into action. Giorno wouldn’t mind making that fantasy a reality. Not one bit.