[Oh. Giorno's looking at his mouth, isn't he, the way he was looking at Giorno's mouth before. That sends a flutter, pleased and embarrassed, from his stomach down to his toes. Giorno doesn't kiss people he doesn't want to, but knowing that and seeing little signs that Giorno enjoys kissing him, specifically, are always so different.
He still doesn't quite know what to make of it, other than watching Giorno look at him like that makes a hard to resist task impossible. So Fugo gives in to the inevitable and kisses Giorno again, once and then twice, so no one has to worry about the number four.]
How gracious of you, Giogio. [He tries to settle his expression into something more stern, but he can't seem to stop smiling. His cheeks hurt from all the smiling he's done today.] But that's not true. You're always nice to me.
[Too nice, some days. But the days where Fugo feels like Giorno's been too kind to him seem to happen less and less, lately.]
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He still doesn't quite know what to make of it, other than watching Giorno look at him like that makes a hard to resist task impossible. So Fugo gives in to the inevitable and kisses Giorno again, once and then twice, so no one has to worry about the number four.]
How gracious of you, Giogio. [He tries to settle his expression into something more stern, but he can't seem to stop smiling. His cheeks hurt from all the smiling he's done today.] But that's not true. You're always nice to me.
[Too nice, some days. But the days where Fugo feels like Giorno's been too kind to him seem to happen less and less, lately.]