Chapter Text
'It's not that I didn't like him but come on, you start mansplaining stuff to me, you're immediately out of the game baby'
Giorno giggled, his eyes focused on tying the long ribbons of his pointe shoes while listening to Trish rant about the horrible date she had suffered through the night before.
'AND he wanted to pay for dinner because, and I quote "I'm the man and I should pay" like... where are you even coming from, neanderthal? It's sad though, he was really hot...' she trailed off, checking her hair in the reflection of the huge mirror in front of them.
'You should stop going out with the guys your dad's boyfriend suggests, they've all been a disaster after another’ replied Giorno, stretching both of his arms up, intertwining his fingers and pulling at the tired muscles of his back.
‘I know but it's cute that he wants to fix me up... even though I think it's more because he hopes that if I get a boyfriend I would be out of their hair more. And believe me I'd love to, lord knows I'd like to stop walking in on my Dad making out with Doppio on our couch’. She grimaced.
‘They're cute together, your dad's always so serious, I think Doppio has the ability to round his edges a bit’.
Admittedly Giorno hadn’t seen much of Trish’s father, he knew from the start he was a powerful man with many connections around the city, and in the few times Giorno had been in his presence he had always felt pretty intimidated by him.
‘They're gross that's what they are.’ she snorted.
It wasn't that Trish didn't like Diavolo's boyfriend, quite the contrary actually, he was really nice and liked to watch cheesy romcoms with her and would always took her out shopping whenever she felt spendy. It's just that no normal twenty-two years old loves to see their father cooing at his boyfriend like a lovesick teenager.
‘You're just jealous 'cause you don't have someone to make out with’ Giorno teased, moving his hands to rub circles on the tight muscles of his calves.
‘You're the one to talk. How long has it been since you've actually been on a date with anyone?’ she retorted, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.
‘That's not the point’ Giorno huffed. ‘I'm too busy to date right now. Plus you saw how it went with the last one. Or do I have to remind you about the time he fell asleep during my solo performance at the last Winter Showcase? My dad was so pissed I thought he was actually going to kill him if I hadn't dumped his ass the next day.’ The blonde answered.
‘That's different, Prosciutto was an asshole, he just wanted to sleep with you.’ The pink-haired girl replied, curling her lip up in a sneer.
‘And the sex wasn't even that good’ the blonde pointed out with a grimace.
‘My my look at my bashful Giorno talking about sex like a rowdy jock. What happened to my sweet innocent flower?’ Trish cooed, leaning teasingly into his shoulder while Giorno glared back at her.
‘Fuck off of Trish’ the blonde stuck his tongue out and poked her in the shoulder, Trish just giggled in response.
‘Okay class, get ready, we are going to start our usual warm-up in just a few minutes, get to the bar as soon as you're ready’ the voice of their ballet teacher, Mrs. Lisa Lisa, echoed through the high ceiling of Studio 3, capturing the attention of all the fourth year Ballet student scattered around the room.
Giorno quickly got to his feet, offering a hand to the pink haired girl still sitting on the floor.
‘Come on, let's get going or we're gonna be stuck in the second row and you know I won't be able to see a thing’ the blonde pressed eager.
‘Yes yes I'm ready geez, I would never put myself between you and your vanity.’
‘Ha-ha very funny, sorry If I want to be sure I can check if my form's correct’ he retorted.
‘Giorno, you're the best student in the entire class if not the entire school, you know you form's always perfect’. Trish pointed out, rolling her eyes.
Giorno scoffed, he was aware he wasn't half bad, praises arrived from teachers, friends and even random strangers after shows and performances. But between his own stubbornness and the need to always achieve perfection, not to mention the constant pressure he felt to be the best at everything he did to make his father and his teachers proud, he felt like he could always do more, be better.
At first Dio hadn't been completely convinced about his decision to pursue Ballet as a career, he had spent days trying to compel him to take the a more safe route like business or maybe law.
‘You're such a smart boy Giorno, you could do so much if you wanted to!’ And Giorno had rolled his eyes and pointed out that he had absolutely no intentions of rotting away in a dusty office for the rest of his life.
At that Dio had just walked away mumbling something under his breath.
The next day he had dropped three pamphlets of the three best Dance Schools in the country, along with his breakfast consisting of and avocado toast and a protein shake.
At Giorno's questioning face he’d just answered: ‘If my son is going to be a dancer he's going to be the best one. We have a tour of the Academies set up for this weekend and a physical check up on Tuesday. You're not in bad shape but you're gonna need to take care of your body better, no more ice cream for dinner, and you're coming with me on my morning run’.
With that he had got back to his room to get ready and Giorno had huffed a smile.
His father's wasn't the warmest man in the world, but he had his ways to show his son he cared about him, and that had been enough for Giorno to know that Dio supported him.
And Giorno had been thankful, thankful to have his father support and to finally have someone who understood that dancing was his element.
Warm up was boring as always but he flew through the poses and stretches fluidly, bending and flexing his muscles almost mechanically.
Lisa Lisa clapped her hands twice and asked everyone to gather around.
‘As you all know the school board has officially announced the date of our usual Winter Showcase’ as she spoke, cheers went off around the room and the woman smiled before picking up where she left off.
‘So from next week forward we are going to work on the group performance as well as a couple of pas de deux and the solo. I have a few ideas already but feel free to swing by my office at any time to pitch your concepts to me.’ She offered.
‘I know you all will have more on your plate than just my number but keep in mind that we’ll be the opening act, so I expect you all to work hard and do you best’.
The teacher finished, class going off in a round of applause before being prompted to resume their usual rehearsals.
Giorno and Trish smiled excitedly to each other, walking to stand in front of the mirror and getting ready to start their lesson.
____________________________________________
It was at the end of class, when Giorno was toweling off the sweat beaded up on his forehead that Lisa Lisa approached him.
‘Giorno, do you have a minute?’ She asked, smiling at him.
‘Of course Mrs’ he nodded, and she gestured him to follow her into her office.
Giorno closed the door behind him and sat down in one of the blue velvet chair in front of the teacher’s desk.
‘I know you’re probably tired so I’ll make this as quick as I can, but the board and I have a proposition for you’ she said, leaning on her elbows and staring at Giorno in his eyes.
‘As I’ve mentioned to you at the beginning of the school year, I’d love it for you to be our solo performer again this year. I know you have the skills and the drive to do an amazing job and I’m sure everyone on the school board will agree with me’.
Giorno smiled, his chest puffing out with pride at the teacher’s words of praise.
‘That’s an absolute honor Mrs, I’d more than gladly do it, and I promise I’m not going to disappoint you.’ He asserted, head bowing down.
‘I’m sure of that Giorno’ she smiled.
‘But that’s not the reason I called you in here’
Giorno’s brows knitted together in confusion
‘No?’
Lisa Lisa shook her head no, and pulled out a pamphlet form a drawer behind her desk and showed it to the boy.
It was the mock up fo the advertisement for the following year enrollments, listing every course the school offered.
‘The board has collectively decided to introduce a new course for next year, Contemporary Dance. They wanted to add something new to the program and the teacher is already well known and happy to start working as soon as possible’ she explained, folding the paper and tucking it away.
‘So to advertise the novelty we decided to have two of our best student perform a Contemporary routine as a final performance at our showcase...And I’d love for you to be involved’ she finally announced, looking at him with a knowing grin on her beautifully painted lips.
Giorno was taken aback, a little confused and at the same time absolutely interested.
‘Me? I know nothing about the discipline I’m-‘ he stuttered but Lisa Lisa quickly interrupted him.
‘Don’t worry, none of our students are trained in it, that’s why you and your partner are going to be working on private sessions with Mr Kakyoin Noriaki, to learn and pull the piece together.’ She reassured him.
Giorno nodded slightly and nervously scratched the back of his head.
‘May I ask who I’m going to be working with?’
In his years as a dancer Giorno had learned to work pretty well with other people, both men and women. Due to his appearance and the elegance he exuded whenever he danced, he had both worked in more masculine and feminine roles and even though he had no real preference and was never in a position to complain, he did enjoy being twirled around by other men, relishing in the feeling of strong arms encircle his waist.
‘He’s a Modern-trained dancer, he’s majoring in both Jazz and Hip-Hop and he’s the best of Mr. Polnareff's class. Don’t worry you’re gonna be in great company’
So he’s a guy, nice.
Lisa Lisa smiled happily and went on to explain the entire project to him and how their rehearsal were going to fit in both his and his partner’s schedule.
He was excited by the challenge but he couldn’t help but worry: was he going to be able to pull off a different type of dance from what he was used to? Was he going to work well with his partner?
Those were questions Giorno knew he couldn’t give an answer to anytime soon, so he shook his head and diverted his attention back to Lisa Lisa.
____________________________________________
‘So why not another ballet dancer?’
Trish sat crossed-leg on Giorno’s bed, leafing through a fashion magazine and chewing on her third slice of cheese pizza.
After his talk with his Ballet Teacher the blonde had joined his best friend in the locker room and they quickly decided a movie night was needed.
‘Apparently the board was afraid it wasn’t going to be the best for representation. I guess they wanted to see two people with different training work together on a completely new discipline.’ Giorno shrugged from his curled up position on his loveseat, reaching out to grab another slice from the pizza box lying on his coffee table.
Trish snorted a laugh. ‘That sounds disgustingly poetic’.
‘I like the idea behind it, I’m just afraid of having to work with a complete stranger that has a totally different training than me. What if we have no chemistry whatsoever?’.
Giorno was used to dancing with other people in his class, both girls and boys, and even though some of them didn’t quite reach his standards they all shared the same type of philosophy of elegance and perfection that classic ballet required.
‘I’ve seen the guys in Mr. Polnareff’s class, they’re bombs. Trust me, whoever this guy is, it’s gonna be a perfect fit.’
She pointed her sentence by standing up and placing a reassuring kiss on top of the blond’s hair.
‘I hope so.’ he trailed off, going back for the last slice of pizza left, but before he could reach for it Trish quickly grabbed it and shoved half of it in her mouth.
‘Classy’ Giorno snorted.
‘Fuck off, I’m the guest, I get the last slice’ the pink haired girl replied, sticking her tongue out at him.
‘You haven’t been a guest here since the second time you came over. You have my father’s number saved as Dad#2 on your phone’ he retorted, poking her hip with his foot.
Trish giggled. ‘That’s because Dio is 100% daddy material’
‘Oh God gross, don’t ever say that again please I’m going to puke’ Giorno grimaced and the girl erupted in a full laugh, watching the expression of sheer horror cross his best friend’s eyes.
____________________________________________
When the following Monday Giorno arrived at 8 a.m. sharp, perfectly on time for their first lesson, the studio was still empty.
He knew they weren’t supposed to meet up until a half hour later but Giorno liked to take is time.
He flicked on the light switches and choose a corner of the room to plop down his things: water bottle, a towel and his pointe shoes neatly tucked into their box.
When changing in the locker room he hadn’t been entirely sure if those would’ve been needed, he didn’t know much about contemporary as a style to begin with, but at that point they almost felt like a good luck charm, so he brought them anyway.
He sat down in front of the mirror and began his usual warm-up routine, stretching every single muscle from the tips of his toes to the back of his neck.
He spread his legs open in a forward- facing split and slowly lowered his upper body to the ground.
He kept the pose for as long as he could, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his body giving in, warmed up and pliable.
‘Wow you ballet dancers sure are bendy’ a voice followed by a loud whistle broke the quiet atmosphere, just a few feet from where Giorno was sitting.
His head shot up and his eyes caught a tall figure standing behind him the mirror.
A tall brunette was smirking at his reflection, eyeing the pose the blonde was in and cocking a hip to the side.
He was dressed in a pair of grey loose joggers and a tight fitted black tank top that hugged his toned muscles and soft curves like a glove.
The stranger crossed his gaze with Giorno and smiled at him, a wide, bright grin that could’ve lit up an entire city.
The blond quirked an eyebrow, lifting his chest from the floor and sitting back in a crossed-leg position.
‘We’re supposed to be, ballet requires an enormous amount of flexibility. But thanks for ogling me like that.’ He scoffed, diverting his gaze from the other guy.
If there was something Giorno didn’t like were strangers commenting on his body. He knew that with being a dancer and all the work that came with it his body looked mildly interesting, firm muscles and sinuous curves all in the right places, but being looked at like he was a piece of meat on a display at the town’s market made him feel gross.
‘Hey! I wasn’t ogling anything here, I’m just stating a fact, you did seem very flexible. Sorry if my comment bothered you.’ The brunet muttered, hands opened in front of him defensively. ‘I’m Guido Mista by the way, your dance partner?’ He introduced himself, offering a hand to Giorno as a attempt to help him off the floor.
The blonde intentionally ignored Mista’s outstretched hand and got up on his own.
He took a step closer and eyed the other dancer in front of him: his frame was the complete opposite of Giorno’s, with his large shoulders and thick thighs, but he supposed different disciplines shaped bodies in different ways.
‘Next time lead with that, would you?’ He replied dryly.
The blond moved to his corner of the room to shrug off the warm sweater he had put on over his usual outfit, a pair of thick black tights and a fitted body, to allow him as much mobility as possible.
He checked on the state of his braid keeping his hair out of the way and briefly eyed Mista from the reflection of the mirror.
‘I’m Giorno Giovanna.’ He started. ‘In case you wanted to put a name to the ass you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes’.
The other boy’s cheek flushed red and jumped as if caught red handed.
He shook his head and snorted.
‘Well nice to meet you Giorno. And for your information I wasn’t looking at your ass, you have some chalk on your tights, there.’ Mista vaguely gestured to the back of the blonde’s thighs and stomped off in the opposite corner to drop his bag and remove his shoes.
Giorno fumed, turning back around to finish undressing just as their new teacher, Mr. Kakyoin Noriaki, stepped through the door, greeting them both with a polite smile.
As he made his way to the center of the room he stole a quick glance at his reflection in the mirror.
His black tights had indeed a big white smear of chalk running up the back of his left upper leg.
‘Off to great start I see’ he muttered to himself, covertly reaching behind and brushing off as much dust as he could, already annoyed.
____________________________________________
Turns out that Mr. Kakyoin Noriaki was a good friend of both Mista’s jazz teacher, Mr. Polnareff, and his Hip-Hop instructor, Mr. Avdol.
They had all met when attending the same dance school and had been friends since then.
He briefly explained how he had been offered to teach at the Academy a few years prior but had to refuse due to his upcoming two-years stay in Japan to help with his husband’s job (Husband?! Giorno swooned).
Introducing a new course was going to be a challenge, but both new students and current attendees had expressed interest in working with a new discipline, and Kakyoin happened to be the best teacher in the country.
‘We are going to start enrolling for full on courses from next year, in the meantime I’m helping some students prepare for auditions and working with a few teachers on side projects, like this one.’ The red-head smiled, his whole demeanor at the same time poised and full of energy.
‘I’m going to run the concept I’ve been working on by you and then Lisa Lisa is going to join us as soon as she’s done with her class to show you the whole routine. We’re going to work together twice a week but the bulk of the work is going to be on you guys’ he looked between the two of them and Giorno suddenly felt the responsibility of this project dawning on him.
‘I’ve heard from all of your teachers you are the best in your courses, and I know you both come from very different disciplines but trust me, this is going to work in you favor.’
Giorno was fidgeting with a loose thread of his leg warmers, he knew this project was challenging since the beginning, but actually being there, about to begin, made him question if he really was up to it.
‘Contemporary dance is a melting pot of different styles and techniques, but most of all it needs passion, soul, energy. It’s gonna require a lot of work and I’m sure it’s going to be challenging but you’re gonna learn to work together and benefit from each other's strengths.’
Kakyoin reassuringly smiled at the both of them and Giorno felt his fear being replaced by sheer determination. He was going to work hard and do his best to achieve his goals, and nothing was going to stop him.
He glanced at the other dancer sat by his side, he watched as Mista nodded along to the words Kakyoin was saying, and for a brief moment he turned to look at him directly in his eyes.
What he saw there was the same kind of determination that filled Giorno’s own heart and the blonde thought that despite their differences he was in it to win it as much as he was.
____________________________________________
The routine was... elaborated to say the least.
There were numerous lifts and jumps, an intricate net of quick and precise movements and a series of twirls and dips that made the whole piece look like it consisted of a single fluid movement.
Giorno had been completely enraptured by the skillful way Kakyoin and Lisa Lisa flew through the choreography, catching each other flawlessly and springing apart in one beautifully synchronized movement a second after.
The concept was well thought-out, they were going to dance to a Coldplay song (apparently one of Kakyoin’s favorites) and the routine was made to look like the fight of two birds trapped in a cage, helping one-another to free themselves from the metal bars and fly openly for the first time. And how, once both freed from any restraint, they ultimately decided to stay together.
‘I know that’s admittedly quite romantic, my husband pointed out that I watch too many romcoms, but I envisioned the two of you dressed in white feathers, dancing around in a golden cage and I was sold’. The teacher’s eyes shone with pride as he looked the both of them.
Mista hadn’t said a word all throughout Kakyoin’s explanation.
Internally, Giorno wondered if he was bothered by the fact that he was going to have to perform such an intimate choreography with another man, and panic rose up in his chest.
‘So, what do you guys think?’ Lisa Lisa asked, back from his quick break and joining the three of them on the studio’s floor.
Before Giorno could say anything or suggest that maybe it was best to ask a girl from his class to do the show instead, Mista spoke.
‘I love it. I have to admit I’m a little worried about having to do the first half in a restricted space but other than that, I’m in!’ and then he smiled, wide and toothy and Giorno was sure he was trying to outshine the spotlights.
‘What about you Giorno?’ Kakyoin’s voice chimed in.
The blonde teared his eyes away from the brunet’s smile to look at his teacher and nodded politely.
‘It’s a beautiful concept, I’m glad you thought of me to bring it to life’.
The man just clasped his hands together in excitement and rose up from the floor.
‘So if you’re good to go I’ll say we start working on some of the basic movements shall we? When you’re ready take off shoes and socks and go stand in front of the mirror’.
As Kakyoin trailed off in his speech, Giorno turned to Mista, who still sat by his side looking at him.
‘So, ready to get your ass kicked blondie?’ The brunet teased moving to stand up and tug at a few stray curls on his forehead.
Giorno scowled at him ‘Very mature of you.’ he replied dryly.
Mista snorted and stretched out a hand, mimicking the same offer he made him before.
And just as he did the first time, Giorno completely ignored it and stood up on his own, glaring at his hand like the gesture it had somehow offended him.
He tugged at the hem of his body and bent down to roll his leg-warmers off and rid himself of his demi-pointes.
Mista groaned. ‘Geez, Snow Queen, sorry I tried to be nice.’ Giorno frowned at the nickname.
‘You know I’m gonna have to eventually touch you to dance with you right?’ The other dancer continued, taking off his own socks and throwing them in the general direction of his belongings.
God, he’s messy too.
‘Sadly I do, so why not avoid it when we don’t have to?’ He replied with a humorless smile.
He saw as the brunet rolled his eyes, annoyed, and turned away to face the mirror.
Working with him was going to be a nightmare.
From: Trish
To: GioGio
So? How was it? Is he hot??
From: GioGio
To: Trish
He’s absolutely terrible. I have no idea of what Mr. Kakyoin sees in him, he’s loud and obnoxious and called me ‘Snow Queen’ just because I refused his help to get up. I can stand up on my own thank you very much!
From: Trish
To: GioGio
I already like him.
If he gets you so riled up he must be incredibly attractive.
From: GioGio
To: Trish
Aren’t you supposed to be my best friend?
He’s a fucking nightmare.
From: Trish
To: GioGio
But is he hot tho?
From: GioGio
To: Trish
Like I care! I don’t like him and I have to work with him for four months!
From: Trish
To: GioGio
So what are we talking about? Blonde? Brunette? Pretty eyes? Nice ass? You love a nice ass.
From: GioGio
To: Trish
You’re an ass.
From: Trish
To: GioGio
Come on! Indulge me a little!
From: GioGio
To: Trish
Fine! Brunette, curly hair, dark eyes, pretty tanned.
From: Trish
To: GioGio
You forgot something.
From: GioGio
To: Trish
Not that I REMOTELY care about it but yes, he has a nice ass. Happy?
From: Trish
To: GioGio
But like, small-nice like it’s tiny but toned or like he could twerk upside down and the room would shake?
From: GioGio
To: Trish
You’re disgusting.
From: Trish
To: GioGio
So he’s thick ;)
From: GioGio
To: Trish
He is just...Big I guess? He’s muscular and he looks twice my size, we were practicing lifts and he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing to him!
From: Trish
To: GioGio
...Sooo you like him.
From: GioGio
To: Trish
He’s a neanderthal, he has no idea whatsoever of what discipline is, is the farthest from a polished dancer and he kept talking about ‘feeling’ the rhythm like... I AM FEELING IT I’m fucking dancing!
From: Trish
To: GioGio
So you like him.
From: GioGio
To: Trish
No! I’m going to bed
From: Trish
To: GioGio
Gonna think about him under the covers? ;)
From: GioGio
To: Trish
I hate you.
____________________________________________
Despite the early tension between them, the first few days of work went by pretty smoothly, mainly because their interactions were pretty limited and having to deal with an entirely different dance style was demanding enough.
Kakyoin had taught them the basics of Contemporary, they had focused on individual work and on creating a strong understanding of what the discipline required.
And beside having to stare at the smug little face Mista would make every time Kakyoin appraised him, it had all went down without many hiccups.
On that morning though, Kakyoin had walked in with Lisa Lisa, and it had dawned on Giorno than maybe the easy part was over.
He took a look at Mista who was stretching next to him (obviously doing a much sloppier work then he was) and just as he thought how in the hell was he going to have to deal with him, both teachers called their attention to start the lesson.
Kakyoin and Lisa Lisa had repeated the beginning of the routine twice, just to let the boys have a basic understanding of the steps they were going to learn that day.
After getting the first handful down without too much difficulty (albeit they hadn’t been going too fast at all), it came time to work on the first few interaction of the the pas de deux.
‘So Mista you want to hold him by the waist, hands placed firmly like this, and make it seem like you’re trying to keep him from running away from you’ Kakyoin explained, demonstrating the pose by mirroring his words and taking a hold of Lisa Lisa’s slim waist.
Giorno felt Mista nod behind him, and as he tried it out, moving away and trying to run towards something invisible in front of him, he felt Mista’s hold weaken and he stumbled forward.
‘What the hell are you doing? You know you’re supposed to keep me from doing what I just did right?’ the blond scolded, crossing his arms and glaring at the brunet.
Mista looked at him and scoffed in return. ‘I was! I had no idea you were going to push so hard!’
‘It’s called getting in character genius, it has to look believable!’ Giorno snapped at him, sighing in frustration.
‘Guys, it’s okay, let’s take this from the top shall we? Mista really make it look like you don’t want him to go, look at him with longing’ Kakyion suggested, taking a few steps back to better look at the two of them.
Mista snorted and Giorno smirked, fully content to have proved his point.
They rehearsed the movement again and Mista did hold him the right way this time, they were even able to go a bit further in the choreography.
Giorno fell back towards the other dancer’s chest, taking a hold of his hands and letting his body be swayed from side to side like he was at the other boy’s complete mercy.
‘This looks good, but Giorno try to relax more, the movement doesn’t have to be too precise, it has to look like he is the one with total control over your body. Try again.’ Kakyoin chimed in.
They went back in position and Giorno inhaled, feeling the other boy’s body press up against his back and lean down to whisper in his ear.
‘See princess? Loosen up huh?’ He could feel Mista’s smirk without even seeing him, and Giorno gritted his teeth.
They tried the steps a few times until Kakyoin was satisfied enough to move on.
And the more they worked the first steps of the choreography, the more Giorno realized how awfully different they style was, and it was pretty sure it showed.
Where Giorno was all precise movements and perfect forms, Mista looked like a kid trying to mirror the statues in a museum. And where the brunet would perform a fluid transition and perfectly sync up a series of twist to the beat of the song, Giorno would stumble and get lost, the succession too quick for him to process.
They must have looked on hell of a mess from outside and Giorno questioned once again if picking two people with such different training had been a good choice after all.
As they worked side by side on what Giorno recognized as right developpe, he watched their reflection in the mirror as Mista wobbled a couple of times trying to keep the pose and couldn’t lift his leg past the height of his knee before losing his balance altogether.
Giorno sighed in frustration and moved to stand behind him, placing his hands on the other boy’s strong hips.
‘First of all, try and stay focused on one single point in front of you, otherwise you’ll never find your balance.’ He pointed at his reflection in the mirror and then moved to cup the outer side of Mista’s leg.
‘At this point imagine your feet is magnetized to your other leg. You have to slowly drag it from your ankle all the way to your inner thigh, keeping it as flat against your leg as possible. Now slowly work towards extending your leg in front of you. Inch by inch, think of it as stretching it after having it curled under you for a long time, and then once you’ve reached your capacity fold it again toward you and then slowly do the same with your leg opening up at your side’
Giorno guided Mista’s legs in the movement as he spoke, delicate fingers placed on toned muscles, showing him how his form was supposed to be and how to keep it there.
He then watched as Mista did as he was told and even if his leg wavered a couple of times he managed to do it somewhat fluidly.
‘My tendon is burning like hell’ the brunet said though gritted teeth.
Giorno giggled and leaned up to speak next to his ear.
‘That means you’re doing it right’.
____________________________________________
Helping each other out where their training lacked became a usual thing for Mista and Giorno.
The older boy was helpless when it came to shaping his body in those elegant and precise forms that Giorno was so used to with years of ballet on his back.
But between countless tries and the blond’s aid he eventually got more comfortable with it and began nailing them after a handful of tries.
On his side Giorno struggled with everything that required him to loosen up and let his body follow the flow of the music. So used to precise and calculated movements he had no idea how to make it look carefree and unpolished, usually getting frustrated at how Mista seemed to be flying through the steps like he was made for it.
It made him feel stiff and it frustrated him to no other level because he had no idea on how to work around that.
‘Try and focus on isolating the parts of your body, like you’re being held up by an invisible string that keeps you upright then try and visualize the string getting loose’ Mista had said to him once while they were practicing by themselves one afternoon.
‘Loosen up your neck, let your head hang like it’s completely disconnected from the rest of your body’ the brunet demonstrated and Giorno closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the image Mista was painting with his voice.
‘Then get to your shoulders, roll them down and relax the muscles’ The older boy placed a hand on his back, right between his shoulder blades, where his tank top left his skin bare.
The blonde tensed up at the touch, Mista's hand felt cold against his warm skin.
‘Relax Giorno’ a whisper.
‘Now move on to your arms. Loosen your elbows, then your wrists, then every single finger’ he felt the ghost of fingertips brush against the palm of his hand and a shiver ran down his spine.
Mista was impossibly close to him and Giorno could feel the air around him smell like the other boy's cologne.
‘Going back up it’s time for your chest, relax and take a deep breath, feel as the entirety of your ribcage expands slowly’.
Mista had placed his hands at his sides, slowly moving them to encircle his ribcage.
‘Breathe and try to push against my hands, keep your eyes closed and focus’.
And Giorno obliged, inhaling and exhaling once, twice, feeling as his chest expanded against the firmness of the other dancer’s hands.
‘Now your legs, from the joint of your hips and thighs, down to the knees and ankles, all the way to your toes’ he let Mista guide him, his voice soothing and for the first time Giorno felt his body completely relaxed, limbs loose and pliable.
‘I’m starting the song again, don’t think about the steps, move to your own according, feel the music and let it carry you through the movement’.
And Giorno did just that, slowly moving his body to the rhythm, bending and stretching without thinking about pointing his toes the right way or forming a perfect circle with his arms.
When the music stopped he opened his eyes to find Mista way closer than what he was expecting and smiling at him with his usual toothy grin.
‘See? You did amazingly’ The boy cheered. ‘I know you might not be used to it, but sometimes you just have to feel the music, to let it fill you up and burst out of your body and carry your movements for you. That’s what I love about what I do. You just have to have energy and passion and let loose. Everything else comes after’.
Giorno hugged his legs to his chest, gaze focused on a scuff in the linoleum of the floor, they had moved to the floor for a quick break, already tired by the hours of practice on their shoulders.
‘That’s not how ballet works, there are rules and shapes and you always have to look poised and elegant. I cant just ‘let loose’.‘ he replied.
‘Yeah that’s true, but there’s more to it, there has to be something burning up inside of you when you dance, even if it has to stay controlled. I’m sure you have that fire Giorno, you just have to let it out sometimes’
He winked and stood up from the floor, turning around to offer a hand to Giorno.
The blonde looked up at him, still processing what Mista had been saying.
Was it true? Did he really see something more than just a guy who loved having rules to follow and a poise to maintain?
He looked at Mista's outstretched hand and then up at him, a timid smile plastered on his face.
‘Ready to go back at it?’ The brunet asked.
Giorno nodded and smiled back, taking his hand and letting Mista help him up from the floor.
‘Thanks’ he whispered.
‘You’re welcome princess’ Mista smirked, turning to get back in position while Giorno rolled his eyes at him.
When Mista finally moved away to get behind him pressing his back against his own, only then, Giorno allowed himself to blush.
____________________________________________
As the weeks passed, progress was made and what had started as a rocky cooperation began to look like something close to an actual friendship.
They had started to spend they lunch breaks together, too tired and sweaty to walk out of the building and go look for somewhere to eat.
On a mid October afternoon they were talking about the end of a pretty terrible horror movie, eating their packed lunch in the middle of the studio, when Trish walked in looking for Giorno.
‘There you are, Gio tell me you have your charger with you? I forgot to plug my phone in last night and now it’s completely dead. And you know how it is when I don’t answer my dad’s texts’ she rolled her eyes, still leaning on the door frame.
Giorno gave her a knowing look and gestured towards his bag with his fork.
‘Yeah it’s on the back pocket’ he said through a mouthful of rice.
After Trish had successfully plugged in his phone and sent a series of emoji filled text to Diavolo, she plopped down next to them on the floor, immediately turning towards Mista and extending one hand in greeting.
‘I’m Trish by the way, GioGio’s best friend, but you must have already heard of me’ she smirked.
Giorno snorted and took another bite out of his rice and veggies bowl.
‘Yeah Mista, remember when I’ve told you how obnoxious she is?’ He teased, and Mista huffed out a laugh at Trish’s offended expression.
‘GioGio that was mean’ she pouted puffing her cheeks out.
‘I’m sorry, GioGio?’ Mista chimed in, leaning forward to raise an eyebrow at the blond who avoided his gaze by looking down at his plate.
‘Ooh he hasn’t told you about his nick name? He hates it but I have no intention to stop calling him that.’ Trish explained, briefly mentioning how, once she had discovered that the boy’s name and surname both began with “Gio”, she had made a one sided decision to make that his official nickname.
‘You don’t like it? But it suits you so much GioGio’ Mista mocked him, his usual shit eating grin plastered on his face.
‘It’s demeaning, it makes me feel like a little kid.’ The blonde pouted, eyeing him sideways.
Mista cooed at him, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and Trish laughed at Giorno’s glare.
‘No one’s trying to undermine you princess, don’t worry, I for once am very much scared of you’ the older boy smirked and Trish clapped her hands together and sat up straighter.
‘Princess? Oh I already like you Mista’ she squirmed excitedly.
Giorno groaned loudly.
After that Trish had started to drop by from time to time to hang out in between her classes or to come and steal a piece of whatever the boys had brought with as their lunch.
And once Mista was introduced to the pink-haired girl and a bond had been made over calling Giorno by embarrassing nicknames, Mista had become their plus one to many movie nights and shopping trips.
Mista, the blond had found out, had a soft spot for romcoms and trashy movies, as well as a particular sense of style outside his dance clothes.
When Trish had shown up at lunch one particular day with four VIP tickets for the upcoming Lady Gaga concert in her perfectly manicured hands, not only had Mista and Giorno squealed like sixteen years-olds, but it had been Mista’s chance to have an excuse to introduce the two of them to his best friend, answering to Trish’s question on what to do with the fourth ticket.
So the following weekend they all agreed to meet up at Trish’s house to get ready, and as the blonde was working on the girl's hair, singing along to ‘Bad Romance’ Mista and a shorter, black haired guy walked in.
He offered them a hand and introduced himself as ‘Narancia, Mista’s better looking best friend’ and the brunet shoved him on the shoulder as Giorno and Trish laughed and quickly decided that they already liked him.
Narancia was in Mista’s same hip-hop class but instead of choosing Jazz as his minor he was attending Break Dance, needless to say that Trish hurried to move his furniture around to then beg the new guy to demonstrate something for the three of them. Mista had laughed at Giorno and Trish’s matching expression, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as they watched the skillful way Narancia plied his body to do whatever he wanted.
A couple of reminders from Doppio later (they were running a little late, looking at Narancia break dance had put them behind schedule quite a bit) they all huddled in the back of the car and left for the arena.
At the end of the concert they were waiting by the exit for Trish’s driver to make his way through the sea of cars to come pick them up when Giorno began to shiver.
He mentally scolded himself for dressing too lightly for early November and hugged himself closer, tucking his head deeper in the neck of his light jacket.
Narancia and Trish were busy talking about every detail of the show, recalling their favorite parts and drafting a list of her outfits, from best to worst, having clicked from the beginning like they had been long time friends.
The blond ran his hands on his arms repeatedly, trying to warm them up, before the pleasing feeling of a heavy coat being wrapped around his shoulder stilled his movements.
‘Mista what...” he turned around. The older boy had taken off his black coat to drape it over the blond's shivering form.
“What are you doing? You’re going to freeze your ass off’ Giorno pointed out, taken aback by the older boy’s gesture, if slightly worried about his wellbeing.
Mista on his side just shook his head, sticking his hands in the pockets of his black jeans.
‘Nah, this sweater is pretty heavy, plus I run hot, don’t worry.’ He smiled at Giorno reassuringly.
Giorno bit his lip, his blush going unnoticed under the redness the cold had brushed on his cheeks.
‘Thanks Guido’ he whispered, looking down at his boots.
It was the first time the blonde had used the brunet’s first name instead of just ‘Mista’ and he quickly decided he liked the way his lips curled around the five-letter word.
He wrapped himself snug, basking in the warmth of Mista’s coat and closing his eyes for a moment.
It smelled like sandalwood and amber, like the usual cologne Mista was always wearing.
Beside him, the brunet was looking at him wide eyed, still wondering why the sound of Giorno saying his name made his insides all tingly and his face flush red.
____________________________________________
“One more time please?” Giorno asked, panting heavily and moving to pick the remote back up and put the song back from the start.
On the floor Mista groaned, right arm draped over his eyes as he panted, chest rising and falling quickly.
“Giorno please, have mercy, we’ve been at it for three and a half hours non-stop, we got this.” He whined.
They were practicing by themselves that afternoon, as they had been most days as of late, as Kakyoin’s assistance wasn’t much needed anymore. They were professionals after all, they knew what they were doing, and a lesson a week to check on progress was deemed more than enough for the redhead.
“I just feel unsure about the way I come down from the second lift, I know I can do it better, I’m sure of it.”
One more time Giorno, if you’re feet aren’t bleeding you’re not doing enough.
The brunet stood up, walking over to Giorno, taking the remote out of his hands, and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“Giorno, listen, you’re going to wear yourself out if you keep going like this. We’ve done enough for today, let’s go back at tomorrow mh?” Mists spoke calmly, looking at his partner directly in his wide green eyes.
“I can’t give up now, I- I need to ace this I know I can.” Giorno pleaded, determination and exhaustion mixing in his bright eyes and Mista just sighed, giving in to his pleading look.
“Okay, last time and I don’t care if you don’t like the way it turns out. And besides I have no idea what you mean, you’ve been doing it perfectly every single time”. The brunet muttered and Giorno pretended not to hear the compliment, feeling the heat rise up in his cheeks.
But before they had the chance to get back in position, they felt a gentle knock on the door and the familiar face of Kakyoin waving at them.
“Sorry to interrupt, I’m just dropping by to say that your costumes are here, I’ve put them in my office. I’m going home now but feel free to go and take a look at them and try them on and see how they fit. I personally think we’ve outdone ourselves this time, you both are going to look incredible.”
At that he smiled and made his way out, not waiting to hear a response from the dancers.
Mista looked at Giorno with a pleading look and the blonde rolled his eyes.
“Fine, let’s go, we’ll work on this tomorrow.” The brunet beside him squealed happily and ran off towards their teacher’s office, Giorno following him in silence.
As soon as they shrugged off the black garment bags excitedly, they both squealed.
Inside were two similar but different outfits, and they both placed the wooden hangers on the door to take a step back and admire the ensemble.
Mista’s consisted of a pair of loose white pants that tied at the waist with a long ribbon and cuffed at the ankle, the fabric beautifully decorated with silver embroiders that ran along the entirety of the pant’s legs. They had been paired with a harness made out of white fabric that left his chest completely exposed beside a single band that crossed his pectorals horizontally, to then come around the shoulders and connect at the back, crossing over his shoulder blades. The backside and the bit that came over the shoulders were covered in the same white fabric as the pants, but instead of embroiders the entirety of it was covered in beautiful white feathers. The entire piece created a cape-like look, only shorter and easy to move around in, it screamed elegance and power at the same time and Mista was ecstatic.
Giorno’s one was shaped differently to better suit his figure and his own level of comfort. Mista had broad shoulders and a muscular chest he was proud to display without much thoughts, but Giorno had asked for something a little more subdued, if still a bit out of his comfort zone.
His bottoms, differently from the brunet’s, were tight and fitted him like a second skin, decorated in the same pattern as Mista's with a matching silvery thread; the blonde was used to dancing in leggings or tights so he was more comfortable with a tight fit (not to mention the wonders they did to his ass).
But it was the top piece that took his breath away: placed on the wooden hanger stood a beautifully decorated bodice, the white fabric scattered with dozens of feathers that laid in multiple layers from his collarbones down to his midriff. The upper part was connected with sheer mesh fabric to a collar that loosely closed around the neck and the back was left opened, the long ribbons of the laces left undone.
Giorno took the corset in his hands, fingertips running along the seams and folds of the fabric.
‘This reminds me of the costume I wore for Swan Lake, God it feels like ages ago’
The blonde glanced down at the garment in his hands, ruffling the soft white feathers of the bodice with the tips of his fingers.
‘When was it?’ Mista asked, curious but cautious, Giorno wasn’t usually one to share from his past and the brunet didn’t want to do anything that would make Giorno stop talking.
‘Almost two years ago now, it was my second year here, I worked so hard the entire year before, I couldn’t believe it when Lisa Lisa told me I got the leading role for the Spring Showcase, I full on broke down crying in front of the whole class’ he chuckled, gaze never leaving the pattern he was still aimlessly tracing on the garment.
‘You must have felt very proud of yourself Giorno’ Mista replied tentatively.
They both sat on Kakyoin’s desk, costumes in hands and legs crossed over the surface.
‘I was, I had spent an entire year practicing literally every waking hour, just so I could be the best, so that everyone could see what I had to offer. And in the end it got rewarded I guess?’ He went on, a glimpse of something in his eyes.
‘Your family must have been so proud of you huh?’. The brunet replied without much thought.
At that, the blonde’s fingers stopped abruptly, he bit his lips and looked away.
‘Yeah uh… my Dad was this close to making t-shirts for the whole event. He even threatened the entire personnel from the theater that if they hadn’t given him the best seat he would’ve sued them’
Giorno huffed out a laugh and Mista smiled back at him.
Then the blonde’s gaze darkened, smile falling and head hanging low, he bit his lower lip and started fidgeting with the laces in his hands.
‘My mom well I uh... I’ll never know I guess, she never showed up.’ he trailed off and Mista knew he had something else to say, so he waited, looking at the boy in front of him in silence.
‘It’s funny you know, even though I knew that she didn’t care about me, I hoped that maybe, I don’t know, she would’ve at least been proud of what I had achieved?’ Giorno shrugged like it was nothing important, but the tightness in his chest said differently.
‘I’m sure she cares about you Giorno’ the brunet offered, admittedly he didn’t know much about the blond’s family, but he thought that no parent could be completely indifferent about his own child.
‘Oh trust me she doesn’t. She made it very clear when she started to go clubbing when I hadn’t even learned how to walk. Or when she would come home drunk at two in the morning not caring if I had woken up again to a empty house in the middle of the night, scared shitless. Or when she married a man that had been calling me a fag for as long as I can remember without her ever taking a stand for me. Believe me, she doesn’t care. Never had, never will...’
Without even realizing it Giorno had hugged himself close, legs tucked against his chest and hands resting on top of his knees, nails sinking so forcefully in his palm he thought he was going to break skin.
There was nothing to say, Giorno wasn’t the type of person that liked seeing someone else’s pity in their eyes and Mista wasn’t the one to give any and make him feel worse than he already did.
So he just did what he felt like doing for the entire time Giorno had been talking, he reached out and took one of his hands in his own, squeezing tightly as to say ‘I understand’, ‘I’m sorry’ ‘You didn’t deserve this’.
The feeling of Mista’s hand closing solidly around his pulled him out from the deep spiral those thoughts always dragged him into.
He glanced up at his partner, the boy that was looking up at him with understanding in his eyes, then back down at their clasped hands where the brunet had started rubbing circles with his thumb on the sensitive skin of his palm, and he blushed.
By that point he had held his hands hundreds of times, in every twists and turns of their choreography or when lifting each other up when one of them laid tired on the floor, too sore to even be able to get up on their own, but somehow that time felt completely different. That single gesture meant that Guido understood, that he was there for him, and his hand clutching tightly his own trembling one felt like the reassurance Giorno never had as a kid.
The blond felt the familiar tingle of tears prickling at the corner of his eyes but he pushed them back, he wasn’t going to cry about his shitty childhood in front of Mista, his mother didn’t deserve any more of his pain.
‘So,’ he resumed, clearing his throat and moving to stand up, releasing his hand from Mista’s hold and reaching down to pick up the feathered corset.
‘Help me with this one? I can’t seem to lace it by myself, the hooks and ribbons in the back look like a nightmare’
Mista was looking at him from his crossed leg position on the table, trying to read him. Giorno knew the brunet wasn’t one to be easily fooled, and he was pretty sure the redness of his eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other dancer, but the blond just looked down at him in a silent plea to change the subject, and Mista understood. He knew Giorno had already gone past his level of vulnerability and he sure wasn’t going to pry any further.
The blonde watched as the older boy stood up and took the garment in his hands, gesturing for Giorno to turn around.
Thankful for Mista’s silence he faced the opposite way, closing his eyes for a brief moment to finally collect himself now that no one was looking at him.
‘That’s how men suffer Giorno, in silence when no one can see you.’
He took a deep breath, once, twice.
‘Stop crying, you look like a fucking girl. Are you a little girl Giorno?!’
‘Arms up? Sorry, my hands are cold’ Mista’s voice was calm behind his shoulder, and his hands were indeed cold when they brushed up against the exposed skin of his midriff, but it was all he needed to snap out of his thoughts.
He focused on the sounds of the laces the brunet was tying behind his back, the faint smell of the other boy’s cologne and the feeling of the the bodice clinging to his tank top.
He was fine.
Giorno Giovanna wasn’t really one for parties. Of course at his age he had gone to a few of them, but he mostly kept around the people he knew (well, Trish) and stuck to his ‘one drink and in bed before midnight’ rule, he was a dancer after all.
When Trish had told him that he had extended his invite for her birthday extravaganza to both Mista and his friend Narancia he had done nothing more than shrug. After all they had already hung out together a number of times and he and Mista had been working together for almost three months, and the blonde could easily admit that Mista had most definitely become his friend.
Not that he needed an excuse to see more of the older dancer, they practiced at least four days a week, not counting their shared lunches and the movie nights at Trish’s, and he had happily grown used to the loud but somewhat calming presence of the brunet.
So after being done for the day he packed up his things, headed home and jumped straight in the shower, rinsing the sweat and the tiredness off his body. He took extra time in doing his three signature curls atop of his forehead and opted to leave the length of it free from his usual braid for the night.
He sat down at his vanity and rummaged around his makeup bag pulling out a few bits to spread out in front of him.
Stage makeup had always been fun to do, and in the years as a dancer he had grown pretty good at it and he quite enjoyed the process, so much that he had started to wear a lighter version of it whenever he would go out (admittedly it wasn’t that often).
He quickly decided to skip foundation, he wasn’t one to need any particular coverage, having been blessed with an almost airbrushed skin, and he liked his freckles to show through, but waking up every day at the crack of dawn and working his body the entire day sure left heavy bags under his eyes. So he opted for some light concealer, dabbing it on with his ring finger, and then brushed on a peach blush to warm up his complexion.
He then dabbed on a gold shimmery shadow on his eyelids and swiped on a couple of coats of mascara, darkening his blonde lashes into a sultry, deep look.
He topped everything off with a light swipe of gold Lipstick and a shimmering gloss and finally stood up from his chair.
He slipped into a pair of black high waisted leather pants and opted for a pink and white (Trish had been very specific for the color-scheme of the night) shirt with a heart cutout on the front that displayed a glimpse of his toned chest.
He was just about done lacing up his black boots when he felt the familiar ding of a text message pop up on his phone.
From: Mista
To: GioGio
Soo like, how strict is this ‘Pink-Themed’ rule? I just found out I look absolutely horrible in pink.
Giorno chuckled, actually surprised the dancer owned any piece of pink clothing at all.
From: GioGio
To: Mista
Last year the bartender got screamed at because the napkins were purple. Just FYI.
From: Mista
To: GioGio
...guess I’ll suck it up for one night. Don’t judge me when you’ll see me please.
From: GioGio
To: Mista
I see what you wear to class, I doubt tonight’s outfit’s gonna be worse ;)
From: Mista
To: GioGio
Gee thanks for the confidence booster.
See ya in a bit!
The blonde huffed out a laugh, checking his reflection in the mirror one last time before heading out the door.
As usual, Trish had gone all out for her birthday: his Dad had connections all over the city and managed to book a private room in one of the most high class clubs of the city.
When he arrived he pulled out his invitation to show to the bodyguard but before the burly man in front of him could have a chance to take a look at it, a voice behind his gigantic shoulders screamed his name.
‘GioGio you’re here! Finally!’
Trish popped out of the building, a tight pink sequin dress clung to her like a second skin, ending a few inches past his knees. Her hair was styled in some sort of complicated updo and her makeup was heavier than usual, highlighting her perfect features even more.
She came closer and then grabbed at the invitation, throwing it away ‘No need for this, he’s my best friend! Come in, come in let me show you!’
The pink haired girl grabbed at his hand and pushed past the heavy door, dragging the blond up a long flight of stairs and onto the first floor of the building.
The room was huge and beautifully decorated, streamers and balloons in various shades of pink hung around the entire perimeter, glittering lights and shiny curtains gave the entire space a high class look.
In the middle of the floor there was enough room for everyone to dance, later on, and on one side the bar was lit up by bright pink neon lights. On the opposite side ran a long and narrow table, a couple dozen chairs pushed up against the dusty pink tablecloth and various vases of pink flower arrangements decorated the length of it.
‘Look at this! Isn’t it perfect? Doppio took care of everything! I’m so glad he didn’t let my dad organize the whole thing, it would have been a disaster’ the girl squealed, still clutching Giorno’s hand and taking him around the room.
He briefly noticed an ice sculpture in the shape of ballet shoes (Trish loved a well thought out cliché) and a menu for signature cocktails before he got distracted by the door opening and two people entering.
Mista’s hair poked through the door, the curls soft ad defined by some kind of spray or gel, he was saying something to Narancia behind him who laughed back n response.
He stepped into the room, shrugging off his jacket, and Giorno’s heart skipped a beat.
Not only he most definitely looked good in pink, but the cropped sweater clung to him like it was made to be fitted to his body only.
There wasn’t really much of his stomach exposed, the hem of the garment fell just below his belly button, but it was enough to show a toned strip of skin every time the boy moved or stretched. He had paired it with an obnoxiously loud pair of black and white tiger striped jeans that fitted him like a glove, and a pair of black combat boots. He looked amazing.
‘Damn Mista went all out I see’ Trish commented, pulling Giorno’s focus away from the sinfully tight pants the other dancer was wearing.
‘He looks nice.’ He pointed.
‘Yeah go tell him that yes?’ She then proceeded to push him forward, the blonde stumbled a few steps before ultimately losing his balance and falling right in someone’s arms.
In Mista’s to be fair.
‘What the-? Giorno? Are you alright?’ Giorno raised his head from where it had fallen right in the older boy’s chest.
Fuck he smells good too.
‘Yes I huh, Trish pushed me’ he replied, straightening up to regain his usual composure.
He looked up at the brunet who on his part was very much staring at him.
Giorno glanced down at his clothes, checking if everything was all right, maybe he had spilled something and he hadn’t noticed.
‘Do I have something on my shirt?’ He asked, Mista quickly shook his head and directed his gaze back to Giorno’s eyes. Narancia by his side giggled.
‘No no! Sorry It’s just... you look really good tonight. I like your hair down’ the dancer said, left hand reaching out to nervously scratch at the back of his neck.
Giorno blushed, ears warm and cheeks going red at Mista’s compliment.
He tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ears and realized that probably Mista had never seen him with his hair loose, he would always have them pinned up for practice, or at least braided behind his back.
‘Thanks, I wanted to do something different’ he answered , a soft smile gracing his lips.
‘The makeup looks nice too, the gold uh...it suits you’ Mista was blushing and Giorno was fully melting at the other’s boy words.
‘Thank you Guido I-‘
‘Well if you two are done flirting I’d like to get a drink in me, let’s maybe move from the door shall we?’ Narancia’s word pulled them out of the bubble that had been enveloping the both of them and Giorno realized they were in fact all still standing by the door, blocking the entrance.
Deciding to ignore Narancia’s tease - Them, flirting?! Where?’ He gestured in the direction of the bar and saw the shorter boy push at Mista towards the bright neon lights.
‘Do you uhm, do you want something to drink?’ The brunet asked before he’d be out of the dancer’s sight.
‘Oh yes, that’d be nice thanks. Just pick whatever seems sickeningly sweet.’
‘Thought so’ he winked. He winked.
‘Be right back!’ And then he was off, Narancia in tail giggling like a teenager.
Well the night sure was off to a weird start.
____________________________________________
Dinner went by without a hiccup, Doppio had indeed done an amazing job not on only on decorations but with the catering as well.
Giorno had found himself sat next to Trish who had chosen the spot at the head of the table, Mista sat on his left and Narancia next to him.
In front of them there were a couple of Trish’s childhood friends that Giorno remembered from past birthdays, a tall scary looking goth named Abbacchio (which Giorno was pretty sure didn’t like him very much) and his boyfriend Bruno, a slightly shorter brunette with a sleek bob cut and bangs that could only have looked that good on him.
The rest of the table was more people from their class and a few people from the other courses Trish followed.
He could spot a few familiar faces, like Melone and Ghiaccio from musical theater as well as a few he was pretty sure were in Mista’s and Narancia’s courses.
‘Hey isn’t that Jolyne from your Hip-Hop class?’ He asked, leaning in to speak closer to the older boy’s ear. Not that he was trying to actually be closer to him, it was just that the people and the music happened to be very loud.
‘Yeah she is! She’s kinda scary but she’s really great, the girl next to her is actually her girlfriend, Hermes. You have to see them dance together, man they’re a force to be reckoned with!’ answered Mista, nodding toward the couple sat at the other end of the table.
‘They do seem to have great chemistry’ he glanced at them, both busy talking with a tall guy with long pink hair.
‘You should swing by our next rehearsals, they’re working on a killer piece!’ Mista offered, turning to look back at him.
‘I huh, sure, If I don’t have class I’ll try, thanks’.
Their chat was soon interrupted by the waiters bringing in the dessert, and Giorno’s eyes lit up at the sight of the plate that was placed in front of him.
A slice of pink chiffon cake laid on the white platter, a generous dollop of meringue frosting that had been dyed pink covered half of the airy dessert and a handful of macarons in different shades of pink decorated the rest of the dish.
The blond mouth watered as he grabbed for a macaron, dipping it into the fluffy frosting and popping it into his mouth.
Despite being a ballet dancer and being extra careful with his diet, everyone around him knew Giorno had a huge sweet tooth. Not that he indulged often, but when he did he loved to go for a good slice of homemade pie or for the biggest ice cream cone he could find.
He licked his lips humming contentedly, flicking his tongue on the pad of his thumb where a little of the frosting had smeared.
Beside him, Mista was staring at the scene, mouth hanging open and fork halfway through breaking off a piece of cake.
In the blink of an eye Giorno’s dessert was gone, plate clean of any frosting left, while Mista’s was still half full, the older boy too enraptured in the cute, if slightly erotic, sight of Giorno enjoying his cake.
He glanced down at his own plate then back up at Giorno’s disappointed face at the sight of his now empty plate and he spoke on instinct.
‘Do you want mine? I don’t really like macarons’ he offered, extending his plate over to Giorno.
The blonde looked at him, eyes wide and shimmering under long dark lashes.
‘Really? You wouldn’t mind?’ He asked, already eyeing Mista’s untouched cookies.
‘Not at all, go ahead’ he reassured, smiling back at him.
‘Thank you Guido’ he smiled gleefully, cheeks going red, and the brunet swooned in his seat.
Unfortunately for Giorno, he was too busy biting into the crispy shell of the French delicacy to notice.
____________________________________________
It was well into the night and people had scattered all throughout the room. Giorno sat at the bar and, despite his usual rule, was sipping on his second drink of the night.
It was something called Spice Girl and all he knew was that it tasted like cherries and it made his head buzz lightly.
Mista and Narancia were sitting next to him, the latter deep into a story regarding their teacher, Mr. Polnareff, and a stray French bulldog that once walked in from the street during one of their lessons.
He could spot a few of Trish’s friend on the dance floor, moving along to the beat and lit up by pink and white strobe lights.
The couple that was sitting in front of them during dinner was now happily making out on one of the couches and Giorno raised an eyebrow when he saw the white haired one,
Abbacchio, whisper something in the other’s ear that earned him the hungry kiss that followed.
‘In the end he kept him. He has pictures of him all over his office’ Narancia finished, drowning what was left of his beer.
At least that’s not pink, Giorno thought.
The song in the background wound to an end and when the DJ smoothly switched to the next one Narancia’s eyes lit up.
‘Man this is my jam! we gotta go, Mista come with me’ he all but threw the empty bottle on the counter and grabbed for Mista’s arm, gesturing towards the dance floor.
Mista laughed and sat his drink down, briefly running a hand through his hair.
‘You coming Giorno?’ He asked, plopping down from the stool and adjusting his shirt.
The blonde shook his head ‘No thanks that’s not really my scene, but you go ahead’ he offered, nodding politely and taking a sip from his glass.
‘Too classy for dirty club bangers huh?’ The brunet teased, tongue poking through his white teeth.
Giorno shoved him on the shoulder and watched as Mista and Narancia reached the edge of the dance floor and started moving to the rhythm of the music.
Giorno turned around fully, leaning onto the bar and looking out at the mass of people dancing close to one another to what Giorno recognized as ‘Right round’ from Flo Rida, not that he was too keen on that kind of music but it had been pretty popular years before that even Giorno had, at one point or another, learnt the lyrics.
Narancia wasn’t missing a beat, movements fluid and carefree, mouthing away to the singer’s words with his head bobbing along with the music.
He then glanced at Mista and his mouth went dry.
The dancer looked completely lost in the music, eyes closed and hips swaying in perfect sync with the beat of the song. His arms were up, making his sweater ride up and letting more of his muscular stomach exposed. Giorno watched as sweat started to glisten on the tan skin, while the older boy bit his lower lip and body rolled at Kesha’s upbeat ‘when you go down down’.
The blond swallowed, unable to pry his gaze away from the scene unfolding in front of him.
He watched as Mista let his hands trail over his body, fingers running along his toned thighs and his strong hips to then come up and push against the sweaty mess of curls on his head.
He saw as he blinked his eyes open, took a look around him and ultimately landed his gaze on Giorno, winking at him, again.
The ballet dancer internally groaned and twisted around in his seat, waving at the bartender.
He wasn’t one to drink more than usual, but he was willing to do anything to stop himself from crossing the room and burying his hands in the softness of Mista’s hair.
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It was well after two in the morning and Giorno didn’t remember who pulled out the karaoke machine and why was he standing in front of it, mic in hand while Trish loaded up the track for ‘Don’t you want me’ by The Human League.
Three drink was definitely more than enough for Giorno to stop caring about his composure and he was fine with it.
Trish’s updo was unraveled and she had ridden herself from the painful high heels she had been wearing all night.
They sang together laughing at each other’s high pitched voice during the chorus and he honestly couldn’t remember when it had been the last time he had so much fun.
In front of him Mista was clapping along with the music together with Narancia, who was on his fourth beer and very much tipsy, as indicated by the goofy grin he had on his face.
‘Don’t you want me baby? Don’t you want me ooooh?’ Trish sang into the mic.
He wasn’t sure when or how she went from singing her words to him to looking directly at Narancia in front of her, who went along with the girl’s act and feigned a dramatic pose.
Now without a partner to dedicate the song to, Giorno turned around, only to see Mista smiling up at him. It was then when he decided to shrug, brace his hold on the microphone and dive back into the chorus looking straight at the other dancer.
Mista laughed and his cheeks went red - or had them been like that already? He wasn’t sure- and mouthed back a ‘Who? Me?’ with a shit eating grin.
Giorno then launched into his best impression of a desperate lover, throwing his hand over his head and looking at Mista with fake longing in his eyes.
The brunet burst out laughing, he leaned forward and mimicked throwing a lazo with his hands and capturing Giorno with it, pretending to be dragging him close.
The blonde got the hint and swayed his way forward, stepping closer to Mista and ending up a few inches from him.
He sang the last few lines of the song in the mic, looking at the other boy directly into the pool of onyx of his eyes and reached out to brush a stray curl of hair out of his forehead.
The last note echoed through and he and Trish both bowed down at the applauses and without thinking too much of it, he dropped down on the couch next to Mista, impossibly close and directly pressed up against his side.
The brunet offered him a bottle of water and stretched out an arm on the back of the couch right behind Giorno.
‘Well who knew you had a Karaoke Star hidden inside of you’ he teased, looking at the blonde.
‘I’m full of surprises I guess’ Giorno quipped, gulping down half of the bottle in one swig.
‘You sure are’ Mista smiled at him, gaze dropping to those shiny lips, the golden lipstick long gone since dinner and now replaced by the blonde’s natural red flush.
Giorno stood up, legs shaky and cheeks red.
‘I need some fresh air, come with me?’ He asked, and Mista nodded, following him along to where the emergency door lead to the fire escape.
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‘No no hear me out here, that’s the reason why we don’t buy nor eat like… fricking lion meat or we don’t cook an eagle at Christmas. Their meat would suck ‘cause they’re carnivore, therefore human flesh would be absolutely disgusting to eat’
They had been sitting outside, tucked on the metal stairs of the fire escape for more than half an hour. Giorno sipping on his water and listening to Mista go off about every topic that came up to his drunken mind.
‘What about me then? I’m vegetarian. Wouldn’t my flesh be good just like a cow’s one?’ He offered, pointing at his own body.
Mista stared at him back, eyeing him up and down and pondering his answer and by tapping his index finger on his lower lip.
‘Well yeah I guess you would, you’d make a pretty damn fine dinner Giorno Giovanna’ the brunet teased.
Giorno looked at him in confusion ‘Are you telling me I’d be edible?’ He asked.
‘Nope, I’m telling you you’re a snack’ Mista grinned at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Giorno huffed out a laugh. ‘That’s cheesy, and also terrible’.
‘Hey must I inform you that I picked up my fare share of dates with these’ he replied, feigning offense with a hand clasped on his chest.
‘Oh did you? And what poor girl fell from this so called flirting mh?’ He provoked, smiling down at him.
‘I conquered plenty of guys and girls, thank you very much. I’m very charming you know?’
At the mention of boys Giorno’s eyes widened. He knew Mista had dated a few girls before, but never had he said something about going out with other guys. Somehow the thought of him wrapped around another boy’s figure stirred something in his stomach that surely wasn’t jealousy.
‘Okay well then, Prince Charming throw me one’ he offered.
Mista thought about it for a handful of seconds and then his eyes lit up.
‘Okay I got it’ he said, straightening up and taking one of Giorno’s hand in his.
‘My dear is your name Google? Because you’re definitely all that I’m searching for’ he said, tone low and sultry.
Giorno blushed at the way the older boy was looking at him but couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy pick up line Mista delivered.
‘You’re a dumbass that’s what you are’ he said, laughing.
‘Come on! Don’t tell me I didn’t charm the pants off of you right now!’
Giorno looked down at his lap, then back at him and smirked. ‘Nope, still where they were two seconds ago’.
Mista scoffed, poking at him in the chest, right where his heart-shaped cutout was.
‘You’re hurting my pride’. He said pouting.
At that Giorno chuckled, taking a hold of Mista’s puffed out cheeks in his hands and squeezing slightly.
‘Owh poor Guido’ he cooed at him, only then realizing how close the other dancer’s face was now.
The air was cold and his breath came out in white puffs in front of him, Mista’s eyes were glistening from the alcohol and his cheeks flushed red from the cold. His skin felt warm underneath his fingers and the moment he felt Mista’s hand come up from his wrist to reach around his waist and draw him in, his gaze fell on the other’s lips.
It would have been so easy to lean down and close the distance between them, savor the sour taste of the drinks Mista had been sipping all night.
Just a few inches closer and his lips would brush against the older boy’s ones.
He felt Mista’s hands close in on his hips, gaze low and mouth opened, and he watched as the brunet licked his own lips and tilted his head to the side.
‘Giorno can I..?’
In that moment the door slammed open.
‘Giorno are you he-? Oh sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt anything!’ Trish appeared, coat buttoned up over her dress and heels back on her feet. She looked like she had caught a kid hands deep in a jar of candies.
They sprung apart, Mista flattening himself against the railing and Giorno hurrying to stand up.
‘Don’t worry we were just talking, is everything okay?’ He asked. Did his face looked as red as it felt?
‘Yeh it’s just...dad’s car is here to pick us up, are you ready to go?’ She asked, tightening her grip on the door handle, looking between the two of them with a smug expression on her face.
Giorno cleared his throat and brushed at invisible lint on his pants. ‘Yes, yes, don’t worry, I’m uh- I’m coming’ he answered, taking a few steps towards the door. He then turned around to look at Mista who was still sitting in the same position as before.
‘See you tomorrow Guido?’ He asked, smiling softly at him.
The older boy offered a tight smile back. ‘Yeah, see ya Giorno’.
And with that, he followed Trish back inside.
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He got home to the sound of his father snoring and to the warmth of the heater. He shrugged off his clothes as quickly as he could and padded to the bathroom to take his makeup off.
As he wiped his face clean with a cotton round he thought back at Mista, at how easy it was to be around him and how close had they been to actually...
He shook his head and leaned down to rinse his face off.
Mista was his dance partner and his friend and nothing more. They had a show to do and sure as hell we wasn’t going to jeopardize everything by getting involved.
He tried to kiss you and you were going to let him.
He angrily threw away the dirty cotton round, stomping his way back to his room. Mista had been drunk, he probably wasn’t even interested in Giorno.
He was ready to get into bed when he felt his phone buzz.
He unlocked the screen and he saw he had a text from Mista waiting to be opened.
From: Guido
To: GioGio
Put some Advil and a glass of water by your bed before crashing, you’re gonna thank me tomorrow ;)
Night Google ;)
Giorno laughed, smiling at the nickname.
He put down his phone and, careful not to wake Dio up, sneaked his way to the kitchen to retrieve the ibuprofen tablet and pour himself a glass of water.
He sat everything down on his nightstand and picked up his phone, typing a quick reply.
From: Giorno
To: Guido
Done. Thank you.
Night prince charming ;)
That’s flirting Giorno.
He groaned.
He glanced at the clock and whined in frustration, four thirty a.m. and he had to be in class in three and a half hours.
He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, soon after he was asleep, the last thing on his mind the smell of cologne and Mista’s smile.