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Does he tell you he loves you when you least expect it? To Giorno, it's only natural he's so affected. As no matter the trip, wherever the two stood on this very Earth, they would pledge their loyalty to each other through a closeness no ordinary person could quite acquire. No matter the physical distance, Mista had pledged to say close. No matter the emotional distance, Giorno promised with all might to be near.
As Giorno batted his eyelashes at the ceiling of the hotel's bedroom, he then looked out the window with the most decadent view of Lille, France, his fingers wrapped around the waves of his hair. Feeling each curl around his finger, the very finger he had Mista so leashed around.
"Hey, I love you."
That the very last thing he'd heard before Mista had gone off to fight a rivaling criminal syndicate in the area. They'd changed hotels so rapidly as for a meeting in the morning, courtesy of Fugo's phone skills, Giorno was tired out of his mind. He knew reforming Italy, and soon enough all of Europe was no futile task. Sure, worth it indeed, yet the mental strain? Tiring for a man who wasn't even 30 yet. Considering his position he'd learned to stop caring when his body guards avenged him.
It was only the right thing to do over the last few years; to not care as much, pay his respects, and move on. However, Mista being out for more than 45 minutes since saying such dainty words was starting to sit sour in his stomach. Like spoiled wine. His bond with Mista was no ordinary allegiance, in fact it felt electric, as if their souls had their own voltage every time they touched. They'd grown so much into their devotion to where Giorno believed truthfully so that his heart would not beat again if he couldn't feel Mista in his veins. There was no need to question. He already knew. He sat up with his knees against his chest, staring out the window refusing to stare at his cell phone.
Giorno never found himself the type to pray to any lord for miracles. His knuckles gripped the mauve sheets till they turned white. He could hear the crisp rustling of his silk robe, as he shifted slightly in tension. He could only wonder. Where is he?
The church in the window's view almost felt mocking, ridiculing Giorno for not begging for divine intervention sooner. He's supposed to be here by now. The room serviced cosmopolitans were now room temperature. Their victory was supposed to be clinked together by the glasses, marking a a true celebration. He was meant to be savoring the familiar taste of what was his. He stared at the rosary on the wooden bed header's corner, dangling, made purely of French agate.
His eyes narrowing it, it felt taunting. He clenched his jaw.
"Where are you?" He questioned, hoping the answer was just alive. His eyes then darted toward the door handle as it twisted uncontrollably.
"Gioia mia? Open up." He heard in a husky voice, somewhat hushed.
Giorno darted toward the door, an oddly permitted relief washing over. Hearing the metal turn of the knob only to be pushed back in by Mista who urgently closed the door on the hallway. The don was under the other man, pressed against the wall. From this position he met Mista's gaze. He noticed the small scrapes on his cheek, blood in the corner of his lip seemingly dried, his hands were rough, his gun perfectly sandwiched between his pants and underwear. He seemed to have a fresh scar on his temple.
Despite the gruff appearance he somehow looked perfect in every way. Giorno could just see it in his face.
Giorno's hand brushed against Mista's cheek, "Are you okay?" He settled his pale palm against tanned skin, thumb rubbing softly, affectionately.
"My apologies to scare you, love." Mista placed his hand on top of Giorno's. "I just," A cough. "rushed back to see you. I needed to."
Giorno could practically hear his heart thumping loud within himself, pulsating the life right back in and out. "Aren't you sweet?" Giorno said, then he felt Mista's head turn, placing a kiss on the inside of his palm. "I had to," Mista's hand completely encompassed the other's. Giorno could only feel flattered. His cheeks tinting red as he bit his lips, puffing them out. "I just, almost thought you.."
"Never that. I have to be here for you." Such devotion.
It's like it's in his DNA.
Like he was genetically coded to be so perfect for Giorno.
To Giorno.
With Giorno.
And Giorno didn't need any scientist nor biology to know that.
It was obvious.
His fingerprints could leave Giorno covered for days, as they made their way to his collarbones slipping so perfectly under the exposed skin of his décolleté. Giorno gasped at this, almost overwhelmed by how real such love was when Mista was holding him. He was putty in his hands. Warm and malleable. Mista's lips made their way up, skipping to place a kiss on Giorno's forehead before going to his jaw. He placed delicate, concentrated kisses along Giorno's jaw, trailing down to the neck.
He just knew it fluttered Giorno's heart whenever he kissed his neck. He made sure to kiss slowly, adorning the Adam's apple. "Mista.." Giorno breathed.
"I promise I will never take that long ever again, gioia mia." Mista's hands trailed to his pants, taking his gun out and settling it down on the night stand. "I will never saddle you with worry again." He whispered into Giorno's ear, delicately nibbling on the top of the cartilage. Giorno gasped again, a mix of sexual pleasure and ardent passion. "I promise." Mista smiled. "Keep up with it then." Giorno murmured. "As you order." Mista lowered his gaze, letting his thumb rest on Giorno's chin. His lips entwined with Giorno's.
Giorno's eyes shut in bliss, wiping away any panic from before. It was all about Mista's kiss which seemed to contaminate his lips. With every second their tongues tangled, their bodies merged into another. Giorno's hand threw off Mista's hat to enjoy the sensation of grabbing coarse hair, Mista's hips grinded against Giorno's to signal the delight from each slight tug at the scalp. Mista's hands hungrily plastered over Giorno's jaw, in attempt to connect them closer than they were.
There was a quiet sense of urgency yet a sinfully loud amount of savoring. The amount of utter attraction had Giorno's heart beating fast as if on the brink of cardiac arrest.
Breathily they pulled apart, a string of saliva keeping them attached. "Giorno.. I fucking love you." Mista huffed. He said Giorno's name as if it were a divine swear.
Giorno's robe was slipping off his shoulder, revealing all the things Mista's gaze loved.
"I love you Guido." Giorno's eyes fixated on the brown in Mista's eyes. "You don't have any idea what you do to me." Giorno shook his head. Mista snickered, "Show me then Giogio." He truly always knew what to say, didn't he? Giorno grabbed the collar of Mista's sweater. It took Mista by surprise, yet some roughhousing by the man that practically owned him was never wrong. The two were so infected by love. Giorno led him to the bed, eyes sultry, as he approached the edge his hands gestured to the tie on his robe as if he were a present waiting to be opened. Mista smirked, "You know me so well." Mista's finger's wrapped under the loop of the robe's tie pulling firmly toward himself, unraveling the knot as the robe dropped to the floor. Underneath was a sight he'd never get tired of. Just before Mista could begin to indulge, Giorno stopped him, he gestured toward the mirror in the corner of the room by the balcony door. "It's been quite a while.." Giorno said sheepishly, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly. Mista smirked, "I got no problem making up for lost time."
Their lips touched again, this time more devouring than before. Mista's hands snaked perfectly behind Giorno's waist, moans filling the room as they sucked their lips off. Giorno's hands were doing the work to pull off Mista's cashmere sweater, swiftly then unbuckling his pants, hearing the clink as they fell to the floor. Mista's hand groped at Giorno's bare ass, hearing a whine out of the shorter one as he widened his eyes. "Mista!" Giorno flushed making the other giggle. Such an addictively sweet set of laughter. "Sorry sweetheart."
Giorno found himself getting pay back as he allowed his hand to wrap at the base of Mista's cock, feeling it as hard as ever, just swelling in desire. His thumb swiped away any leaking pre cum, he enjoyed such slick heat. Giorno stroked up and down, watching as Mista slightly arched in pleasure. He watched the man's abs fold in and out as his body writhed in the feeling, his breaths hitching. "Ah, fuck.."
Giorno was now the one smirking, enjoying every second of breaking down the handsome man in front of him for a bit. He picked up the speed on his foreskin, knowing the sensitivity of it. "Ha.. Gio.." Mista closed one eye, face flushing. "Hm?" Giorno let go, eyes entranced by the scene. How hot.
Giorno bent down, really picking up speed as he placed small pecks on the tip. Mista's hand clutched on his blondie locks, gentle yet firm. "Hah- that's.." Giorno then took in the whole head, bobbing in and out on it eventually going from tip to mid-shaft. His hand still worked at the very base, sliding up and down more seamlessly with the aid of spit. He felt Mista's rough fingertips digging into his scalp, his hand shaking slightly whenever Giorno hummed at the tip. "F-fuck.. yes.." Mista bucked his hips.
Giorno then swirled his tongue on the tip before popping his mouth off letting Mista's thumb swipe away any saliva. "Not yet." Giorno smiled with reddened lips, eyes glued to the mirror, he was almost pleading for it. Mista shakily laughed, he shook his head, "I didn't forget."
The room got hotter when Giorno experienced a frenzy of kisses on his shoulder and back from Mista as he bent in front of the mirror. Mista made sure to kiss all over that star-shaped birthmark as if coloring it in. Giorno loved his reflection, even more the grand view of his lover fucking him whilst behind him. Mista teased him thoroughy- his hand on his pale back, thumb rubbing back and forth just to adorn exposed skin, and cock leaking with precum simply circling around the rim of Giorno's hole. Mista leaned down pushing the other slightly down with him, his teeth grazed the top cartilage of his lover's ear, he bit down softly. Giorno whined, already overstimulated from the touching, kissing, teasing of it all.
His mind hazed in the delicacy of their infatuation. Mista whispered lowly, "You look so fucking pretty like this." He bit again, "I need you mio sole." Giorno couldn't take it, he turned his head to face the man, "Get on with it, fuck me. Fuck me Guido, now." he ordered. The blond rolled his hips against Mista's, brushing perfectly against his cock. Mista grunted at the sudden movement. "Yes love."
And just like that Mista pushed the head of his cock into Giorno, earning a small yelp. Giorno's fingers gripped onto the mirror firm, his back arching more in response, Mista threw his head back from the amount of warmth encapsulating his thick shaft, allowing Giorno's tightness to fit so flawlessly around him. "You good baby?"
"Move, now." Giorno moaned. Mista stared at Giorno's reflection admiring his lover one last time before he'd turn into a peachy mess.
Mista took the order to heart, both hands now on Giorno's ass gripping supple skin. He pumped his hips with no warning; only obliging his lover's command. He watched his cock disappear in and out of the beauty below him. His eyes fixated on Giorno's back, watching as every muscle popped out more distinguished than before. Giorno became a moaning wreck underneath this, blue eyes staring at his lover in the mirror soaking in all love from such a determined face. "Yes-ungh- yes!" Giorno churned his hips, keeping his head low. "You really needed this didn't you?"
Mista's voice was awfully playful. Giorno closed his eyes, absorbed in the bliss. He wasn't even aware of the fact Mista was watching his countenance through the reflection, a smile plastered on his face from the fact he was lucky enough to be so intimate with such a beautifully powerful man. Mista hummed in satisfaction while watching Giorno, overjoyed by the scene while beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "I'm taking that as a yes."
Giorno groaned, nodding weakly until he something getting tugged upon. From the mirror he saw his hair wrapped around Mista's fist while he fucked him relentless. Giorno was going to go insane from this. Every time Mista pulled on his soft strands his cock twitched, "Guido!" Giorno huffed, all the blood from his poor brain was being sent down below.
"Yes baby?"
"You're making me- ha! Go crazy. Fuck.." Giorno could feel his legs shake, trembling from such force. He stuttered inaudibly. Mista chuckled. "You can handle it honey."
The gunman wiped the sweat off of his forehead, his fingers tightened around Giorno's hair, he could feel his own orgasm growing closer. Each moan and tremble of his lover only made him crave the release more. "S-shit.." slipped Mista's lips as he found his hips about to lock. The sound of their skin slapping against each other filled the room, their huffs of hot air contrasted with the cool breeze flowing from the balcony. The scene was so vanilla, typical even, but what did that matter?
Giorno felt each inch go in and out of him, he churned in the feeling of being wanted to viscerally, sinfully even, for he had not a care in the world right now but being finished in by his beloved bodyguard, his right hand man, his Guido Mista. The blond felt his arse tighten, "Giorno, love, I'm close-"
"Ah, please-"
Mista's muscles tensed, his back muscles drawing in, "-finish inside me." Giorno wailed. In the warm light, it was evident that Giorno's eyes were brimmed with glassy tears. His upper body was littered with love bites, he was so flushed and weak. Mista thrusted a few more times, finger nails digging into Giorno's ass as he gripped firmer to truly deliver what the other man wanted. As he writhed his body over the other, he slowed down as he felt himself about to finish, instead grabbing Giorno by the chin. He bought their mouths together, sloppy and spit dripping. His tongue twirled with Giorno's fully savoring the taste of vodka and buttercream. Giorno grunted loudly into the other's mouth, "Mmh-!"
Mista abruptly quickened his pace, their lips sewn together. Giorno's eyes squeezed shut even tighter, his arms slipping from the sides of the mirror until they seemed to hang loosely at his sides. Mista finally pulled his lips away, and they both huffed for air, their eyes locking. Mista's rough hands then gathered Giorno's together, guiding them behind his back and holding them there with one hand. Now both Giorno's hands were behind his back, while the blond's pretty face faced the mirror. Mista was practically slamming himself into Giorno, hitting him from behind watching as the mirror seemed to creak from all the shaking. "Mistaa please.." Giorno whined, needier than ever.
"Baby I swear I'm gonna-" Mista's body grew warm, feverish even, his cock twitched within Giorno. "Fuckkkk.." He rasped.
He felt himself spew hot and white within the blond. "A-ah.." Giorno relaxed his back, the sensation of cum leaking down his arse. Mista pulled himself out, watching the other straighten up in front of the mirror. He was littered in love, hair dangling all over his face, shoulders evidently rouge. "Mista," Giorno let out, absentmindedly. The other man's eyelids fluttered, a mix of sleepy, admiration, and adoration.
Giorno's hand's covered both of his shoulders, he seemed to embrace himself, almost blanketing the warmth of the arousal within him. The mirror behind him reflected some light from the balcony. It was now night time in France, the only glow outside being from the moon and man-made street lights. A faint smile appeared on his lips as he crashed into Mista's arms, rubbing his head into the crook of the older man's shoulder. "I," Giorno seemed to trail off, his hand's pushing hair behind his ears. "I needed that..thank you." He croaked. Mista's arm swung across Giorno's back while his body fell back onto the comfort of the hotel mattress. The soft clinking from the cosmopolitans can be heard from the bedside table. Giorno wasn't sure how he hadn't had cardiovascular problems from the amount of overtime his heart had committed tonight. Mista held him in the bed, he stared blankly before raising an eyebrow. "Why thank me?" He questioned. Mista's thumb rested on Giorno's bottom lip, playing with the pinky flesh. Giorno shook his head, "Well-"
"No. Don't thank me. I took an oath to be with you. As long as I am alive." Mista moved his face closer, feeling the warmth radiating off of Giorno's skin. There was nothing more to say.
You're truly some man. Giorno thought, his eyes engrossed on what was in front of him. "I know. But-" His hand reached out for Mista's cheek again. They smiled at eachother, holding one another, skin against skin under the night. "I love you." Mista interrupted.
"I was made to be yours, Giorno." Mista's eyes seemed to flicker in a fit of passion.
Giorno closed his, humming softly, delicately.
You aren't just anyone's man though. That's for sure.
"I love you too, Mista." Giorno whispered.
They smiled at another, their body's perfectly grazing against each other, their hands encompassed. "I'm here to stay." "..Forever?" "Forever, gioia mia."