[Fugo shifts under Giorno's weight, managing as carefully as he can to keep the two of them balanced. Their seating situation has gone from convenient to oddly perilous. Maybe he should have taken lightheadedness into account before taking a seat next to Giorno in the kissing booth. He hopes, distantly, that they don't fall because neither of them would want to get up and that would mean at least one of them would end up with grass stains on their clothes. It would be entirely silly.]

I know. It's okay. [As Giorno moves forward, Fugo moves his hand from Giorno's face to rest it loosely around his shoulders in a one-armed sort-of hug. There. That's... a little more stable, at least.] Because I promised you all of me, back then. So you can be as greedy as you want to be. And, you--

[Fugo can't say it, at first; instead of words his throat produces an embarrassed, overwhelmed mggghghghh sort of sound. But he swallows, pulls Giorno closer, and bravely continues on, heart pounding in his ears.]

... when you're greedy, it-- [His voice drops to a quiet, barely-audible mumble, syllables crashing and colliding in his haste to just spit the words out.] Makes me want to be greedy too.