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It started one morning with an extra cornetto in the communal kitchen.
That day, Bruno received a gift from a bakery as a thank-you for the descent of unsavory activities within the neighborhood. Adamant, Bruno tried to elude their kind words with a smile as he promised their praises would reach the Don.
Only then, Bruno could wrangle his way out of a store without paying for the freshly baked pastries for breakfast.
Usually, whenever anyone from the team received gifts or lavish presents, most of them, if not all were for the Don. Either to impress, buy him, or get in Giorno’s good graces, which, so far, never worked. Nevertheless, a new flourish of presents began to reach their hands, all to get the Don’s attention. Great floral arrangements, diner private invitations, homemade and storebought delicacies with phone numbers or letters, jewelry, and other unspeakable items became a staple.
As a team, they made sure to rotate the chore of inspecting every present before it reached Giorno’s hands.
That’s why Bruno didn’t let the pastries slip the inspection.
Thankfully, none of them had anything extra.
“Giorno, do you want one?”
Giorno’s espresso stayed poised against his lips for a second before he nodded, thanking Bruno. When Giorno placed his cup down on the table, he reached for a cornetto and took a tentative bite of it.
Bruno wasn’t a voyeur of any kind. He had never felt the strong pull to sit and watch other people for entertainment. Whenever he had to was due to his job and nothing more. Bruno was not a saint, and he’ll never be. He would exchange a flirty look with a handsome stranger, flash a smile at them, and reach for touch as well. However, all of those were fleeting with no meaning underneath.
Observing how Giorno ate, caught him by surprise.
Every single bite was roughly the same amount as the last. Little to no noise came from his lips. No hums or oohs slipped between pieces. But Bruno was still staring from the corner of his eyes. He was so focused on the mere actions that Narancia’s grubby fingers were ignored over the last crumbs falling out of Giorno’s mouth.
A pinch.
That was the closest term Bruno could find to explain what he felt that morning.
It should’ve stopped right there, much like everything else did to him. And yet, it didn’t.
Instead of letting it go, Bruno found himself finding new pastries from different bakeries to share with Giorno. This came with the bonus of spending more time with him and getting to know a part of Giorno, Bruno never thought existed.
Perspective was a funny thing. It could change the whole view of something by moving from one extreme to the other. Of course, his experience didn’t swallow him whole. Bruno took steps to the right and all of a sudden, Giorno was a whole different person.
The one time he kidnapped Giorno from the office was to take him to the gardens. Bruno had all set up and ready, preventing Giorno from escaping. He had bought two slices of cake to accompany the floral tea.
“This is a lot,” Giorno said, eyeing the cake in front of him. “You didn’t have to.”
Bruno smiled and shook his head, taking a seat at his side, “I wanted to, and you, needed a break.”
Huffing, Giorno grabbed his fork and took a small portion from the slice, “a break is nice once in a while, and I do have a meeting in a few hours.” As soon as the piece was in his mouth, Giorno stopped for a second. His eyes widened a little and his free hand twitched twice before it ceased.
The motion didn’t repeat. And Bruno never forgot.
Those little ticks stayed in Bruno’s head, occupying his free time trying to dissect the truth behind them. Lucky for him, the only way to find out, was to repeat it.
With every breakfast, lunch, break, and dinner, Bruno glanced at Giorno. He took him to different places where they had lovely conversations and comfortable moments of silence. During those escapades, Bruno noticed that Giorno’s moves during a meal were measured, poised, and strict. At a simple look, it seems Giorno was well-mannered and correct; which wouldn’t be wrong. And due to Giorno’s charm and serenity, no one should ever question such things of him. Nevertheless, for Bruno, Giorno’s actions didn’t seem to be shaped with care, or as a means to show off. It was something different. Something Bruno was afraid of unearthing.
But as he saw Giorno finish a cookie with a little smile, Bruno decided to let that lead wither despite the many occasions he would have to find out.
Above all, his smile was paramount to deciphering the squeeze he was beginning to feel.
❤
Happiness was an ephemeral thing. It had the power to fluctuate according to each individual’s reality.
The happiest he caught himself was when he gave Giorno something to eat. Whenever he did it, Giorno would speak to him, smile more, tell silly things and share wandering thoughts. So far, all Bruno gave him was food and a means to escape from work, yet, he was content by Giorno’s side.
That bout of emotions infiltrated his head with nice memories at the most random times, as well as being spurred by trinkets and items with a furtive glance.
The latter made its presence known on his way back from running errands.
Bruno was passing by stores, window shopping at the ones he fancied when he came to a stop in front of a jewelry shop. Among the golds and silvers with gleams of colors, Bruno scanned a little cushioned plate with a set of drop gold earrings. The delicate motif of leaves made out of diamonds twinkled under the afternoon sun. The length would fall right up to Giorno’s jaw. It was fancy enough to show his power and its simple shape would be wearable for casual occasions if Giorno desired to do so.
Getting them all wrapped up in a velvet case and inside the brand’s bag went in a breeze. All he could think about was getting his little present into Giorno’s hands.
Bruno had waited until they were done with dinner at the mansion before he slid the small case of his jacket and pushed the item over Giorno.
Giorno’s eyes weren’t the only ones to set on the navy-blue case. “What is this?”
“It’s a little something I got for you,” Bruno couldn’t stop grinning since he had bought it.
“But…”
Giorno’s reluctance overpowered his initial shock, but Bruno wouldn’t permit that to be an obstacle. Gently signaling at the case with a nod, he urged Giorno to open it.
Oh, the shortened intake of breath that reached his ears was a musical piece Bruno would never forget.
“W-why?”
The tremulous waver in Giorno’s voice made Bruno’s stomach flip.
“It reminded me of you.”
Giorno’s eyes grew wide. Instead of holding Bruno’s gaze, he tore his eyes away. Looking straight to the earrings. A single finger traced the slightly curved shape of it and a coy smile painted on his face. “…Thank you, Bucciarati.”
He was so gorgeous Bruno’s hands twitched, aching for him to reach for Giorno, to ground himself.
The strong squeeze he used to feel morphed into a shot of sweet oxytocin when he saw Giorno wearing the earrings the next day.
Three months went on like that.
Bruno was aware of the before and after effects of meeting Giorno Giovanna. It was etched in his mind, a breakthrough that brought him back to life. He used that as an excuse for all the little adventures and breaks he would take Giorno on, and the randomly chosen present Bruno would surprise his Don with.
He could be traversing the streets with Abbacchio or Mista, and Bruno would find a way to find a little trinket for Giorno. A trinket Giorno would parade the next day, whether it be a new fountain pen or a hair clip.
That never failed to put a smile on Bruno’s face, walk a little taller even.
Nonetheless, Bruno’s field of vision shrunk, and he didn’t realize how much or when.
All he knew was that with every present, Giorno would sprout flowers around him, unprompted, ushering a thank you. With their outings, Giorno would mix and match the jewelry Bruno got him, and attract looks by walking by. In a juvenile exchange, Bruno would hold his hand, play with his hair, and kiss his cheeks—in the morning and at night before retreating to their designated bedrooms.
It was exhilarating, beyond nice, to be able to do those things with Giorno, and have the vibrant want to continue down the same path.
Bruno saw no wrong in doing that.
Until they all took a break at Libeccio’s, as a team.
It was going normally. Narancia was chomping down on his food, Mista had just opened his mouth to say something bizarre, and Fugo and Abbacchio were two seconds away from leaving Mista talking alone or blasting him with facts on the topic.
Meanwhile, Giorno had asked for two different slices of cake—prompted by Bruno, of course—and Bruno couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
Bruno spoke with the rest of the team, briefly offering his opinion when asked, and indulged in watching Giorno enjoy himself with dessert.
Giorno was halfway through his second slice when he had put his fork down, turning to Bruno, “Bucciarati, can I take you somewhere else on our next date?”
…Date?
“Sure.”
…Date.
Giorno gave a small nod, “there is this place I want to show you.” Then with rosy cheeks and gleaming eyes, he added, “I think you would like it.”
…Date!
Wait. Next date?
Right there and then, Bruno had an epiphany. One that made his face light up in an instant. He couldn’t believe he had been making such advances without speaking to Giorno first. He could NOT wrap his head around the idea of how short-sighted he had been while harboring and nurturing a crush.
Bruno had been dating Giorno for roughly three months! And none of those were baptized as dates!
When he brought up his side of things about their relationship, Giorno couldn’t restrain the chuckles blooming into a full belly laugh.
Laying beneath the sunny summersaults caused by Giorno’s mirth was a satisfying balm.
Bruno couldn’t wait to experience it with him.