[That's probably a good example to follow, Giorno thinks. Move on from the subject of dates to the specifics of designing a costume. He probably shouldn't say what he's tempted to say.]
it's pretty small i admit you embarrassed me so i had to get you back at least you didn't say that to my face i'd die i probably will die at some point in the future over that or something similar but anyway
oh i like colors on you i think it was a good change too much black and white can be drab (for non-bruno people) example: polnareff needs to stop just wearing black shirts, i hate it that said, the occasional black and white outfit as contrast is lovely anyway you did say i could dress you up
I wanted to be sure. I don't like just assuming things of that nature. Regardless, I think overall you embarrass me more. Statistically speaking.
To be honest, as much as I like it, I think a lot of colors look kind of weird on me. Considering my overall lack of melanin. Thanks for nothing, genetics. So I just wore a lot of black and white, because it was the only thing that didn't look so strange. But once I stopped caring about looking strange it was honestly like a whole new world of (obnoxious) colors opened up for me. Anyway the point is: yes I'm fine with it and would actually greatly appreciate your help in figuring out a costume. So this doesn't have to count as dressing up if you don't want it to.
i really think it is much closer to equal than you think it is really
i think most colors look cute on you and even if they don't per se you wear them like you'll fight anyone who bothers you about it which is appealing
oh really i get to dress you up again? hm okay that's good because i have a lot of ideas for that too although i was willing to use my dressing up allowance for this since i want you to feel comfortable
well maybe i embarrass you a little more but it's really not that far off i think i'm just better (sometimes) at pretending i haven't been embarrassed but you can be very overwhelming just because i like you so much and you are very honest? when you say nice things to me and i like it but it also makes me squirm a little
i do like to bully you though sometimes it's revenge but mostly it's just fun
I... see. Hm. Is it weird to say that it's-- I didn't realize, but it's not surprising? Because I know you feel things the same way I do, sometimes. ie: very very strongly
I've come to that conclusion, yes. You and Trish both.
that isn't weird it just means you're observant which of course i already knew and even if i hadn't before i would have known after you figured out h. axyridis honestly: i am just a good liar which is how i was able to talk to you for so long without mentioning kissing you
trish is better at it than i am she used to embarrass me when she wasn't embarrassing other people with me
are you in the theater already i'm outside and i don't see a tacky sweater
I'm not too bad at information control, but only when it comes to strangers. I've gotten pretty garbage at it when it comes to people I trust. Which I guess is a good thing overall but sometimes can be frustrating.
In the sport of embarrassing people, Trish is an Olympic athlete.
yes because it's kind of cold I'm on the stage already actually
trusting people is difficult because it is of course good in principle but also very vulnerable-feeling which i don't always like so it's complicated!
trish is perfect though so statistically she's an outlier
[And . . . then he heads into the theater and, while doing so, makes a conscious effort to be less excited. He's buzzing with it, but even he can tell it's going to be overwhelming for Fugo. It's overwhelming for him and they're his own feelings.]
[So he's got the broom over one shoulder, dustpan attached, and a cup of coffee in the other hand, which, once he gets onto the stage, he holds out to Fugo. It's a couple minutes past the stroke of No More Coffee For Pannacotta, but this was the most precisely accurate nonverbal way to articulate the strange and confusing swell of delighted happiness and nerves he's feeling.]
[Giorno will find Fugo, immediately identifiable by his not-as-tacky-as-it-could-have-been sweater, sitting on the edge of the stage and looking down at his watch; it's held loosely in the palm of one hand while he nibbles thoughtfully on the pad of his thumb from the other. He's smiling absently about the way Giorno has described Trish: it's funny to him in that it's very indicative of Giorno's opinion about her and Trish's own force of personality. His posture is all angles today as his heels are kicked up underneath him on the outer apron of the stage, helping to keep him balanced. His bag of sheet music and new books from the library sits on the floor underneath him; his own broom is lying next to him, ready to be grabbed once it's time to clean.
His hand drops to his side when he hears the sounds of someone entering the theater and spots Giorno. Like usual, he doesn't smile. Instead he scoots back a little on the stage, lets his legs drop, rests one ankle over the other, and idly starts to swing them back and forth. Giorno's ... really happy today. It's a little infectious. And he brought coffee, despite it being a few minutes past the time in the afternoon when Giorno's arbitrary ban on coffee starts until the next morning.]
Hi. Thanks for coming. [He closes the watch with a click and lets it drop on top of his bag, so he can reach up and out to take the cup with both hands. It's difficult to ignore the way his chest flutters when their fingers briefly brush together, but he manages. Somehow. Fugo breathes in the smell of it, eyes briefly closing, and sighs contently.] And for bringing me coffee.
[Oh . . . Fugo is extra cute today. That is a not-totally-ugly sweater. And he's sighing about coffee. And he was smiling at the watch. And he's swinging his legs. Also: he exists. It's very cute.]
Well. You're welcome.
[He lowers the broom to the stage and sits down on the edge himself, letting his legs dangle and swing. Every few moments his foot bumps against Fugo's. It makes him smile.]
I had to double back to the shop anyway because you embarrassed me. So. [Anyway. He tugs at Fugo's sleeve a little.] I like this sweater. It's a good color for you.
[Fugo doesn't respond right away. He can't: he's a little busy enjoying the coffee and just... Giorno being here with him, in this dusty, empty theater. They're close enough that, if he wanted to, all he'd have to do to make a single line out of their shoulders would be to lean over.]
Sorry. [A twitchy, apologetic smile darts across Fugo's face. It's one thing to tease a little over the watches, but in person--] I really didn't mean to, you know. I just...
[Fugo kicks his feet forward. His heel makes a light thumping sound when it hits the stage, echoing off into the seats.]
I didn't want to be mistaken, that's all. [He glances down at the elbow of his sweater.] Oh-- really? [His fingers tap restlessly along the edge of the coffee cup.] Thanks. I like red. So I guess it works out.
[Red is a color that catches the eye. It's hard not to look at someone who wears all red. It's the opposite of invisible. It's an odd favorite color for someone who feels uncomfortable being watched and squirms under the attention of too many people.]
I know. It isn't bad. It's probably a little funny, actually. Just--
[He waves his hand in a small, vague motion.]
Me. [A single word into which he packs every ounce of his exasperation at his own contrary, counterintuitive nature.] You were very thoughtful. So don't apologize.
[Ah, which reminds him. He bumps Fugo's knee with his own, very gently.]
I think I might have accidentally invited myself here for your practice, not just the cleaning part. I was babbling. Well--my point is that if you'd rather practice alone, let me know? I didn't mean to impose.
Hmmm. [Fugo makes a show of thinking about this over his coffee. He takes his time, savoring the drink's dark, bitter flavor. Giorno really does make some of his favorite coffee. Simply put, it tastes like home.] If it were JP, I'd tell him to go bother someone else.
But since it's you and you're helping out with the dustying, I suppose I wouldn't mind the company. [He gives Giorno a lingering sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye, a smile written over every part of his face but his mouth.] And you brought me coffee after my caffeine curfew. That's a pretty effective bribe.
[That's so stupid. Fugo is so smart, but he's such an idiot at the same time. On the other hand: he's not as much of an idiot as Giorno is for getting all--himself about it. He supposes he's just going to have to learn to live with the fact that he loses all ability to not be charmed by boys once he realizes they smell good. Such is life.]
[Anyway, Fugo's so happy about the coffee, it's hard not to just go with it. He sighs a little, leans his head against Fugo's shoulder, and nods to himself.]
Okay. Since you're flirting with me, I'll stay and pay you back. That seems like a sound plan.
Don't point it out! Or turn it into a contest. [Despite being embarrassed and red around the ears, Fugo does not deny his tentative, sideways method of flirting: the key phrase hidden between I'd tell Polnareff to go bother someone else and I suppose I wouldn't mind the company is but since it's you.
Fugo doesn't always have the energy or the patience to put up with distractions of someone else in the theater with him. The important implication is that because Giorno is special to him, he gets admittance where others might not. It's a little unfair that Giorno's calling him out on it, especially after leaning on his shoulder like that. Now he can't escape without dislodging him. Or abandoning the coffee. He's much less likely to abandon a fresh cup of usually-forbidden afternoon coffee.] But. Fine. Whatever. You can stay and-- read.
[With one hand holding coffee and the other pinned to his side, Fugo is forced to use the heel of his foot to gesture to his bag.]
[He smothers a grin against Fugo's shoulder, doing his best to swallow down the rest of his teasing at the same time. He honestly doesn't want to be too awful, although he's finding it more difficult than anticipated. Mostly the reason he pointed it out was--he's happy about it. That he's here, that Fugo's flirting with him, that he's allowed to stay. That Fugo likes his coffee. It's such a simple thing, but it makes him so happy.]
I'll be good. I promise. No contests. Since it's you.
[That counts as good, in his opinion, because it's not a contest, it's just the same thing again. And equally true anyway. He wiggles a little until he can take Fugo's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.]
Mm, thank you for letting me stay. I like listening to you play. Honestly I'll probably read a little and then just listen for a while, if that's all right.
[He's not entirely convinced that Giorno's going to completely abandon teasing him, but he's mollified by the gesture of Giorno taking his hand. His fingers fold over Giorno's knuckles and his thumb brushes back and forth on the side of Giorno's hand.]
That's fine. If you do it that way, it won't feel like you're watching. [He takes another sip of his coffee and swings his legs some.] I was thinking of playing some jazz, today.
[In the months before Bruno's birthday, Fugo has added a significant amount of jazz back into his practice routine. He's kept up with it ostensibly out of a desire for a varied routine and that it's good for him as a pianist to practice a style he struggles with. But, really, it's because he likes sharing pieces he's practiced with the people he likes best every now and then. And Bruno likes jazz.]
[Hmm. Fugo is definitely saying something that he should probably pay attention to. On the other hand, he's very focused on the movement of his thumb along the side of his hand, so . . . he only catches the end of that.]
[Jazz? Jazz. He sighs a little, rubbing his cheek against Fugo's shoulder.]
I like it when you play jazz. It's very relaxing. It makes me a little sleepy, but not in a bad way. Just . . . relaxed.
[Giorno is an entirely ridiculous person. But, as Fugo reflects, he must be a ridiculous person too for being so endeared to Giorno's weirder habits, like the way he rubs his face on a shoulder like a cat demanding attention. He has the impulse to shift over and kiss the top of Giorno's head-- which he almost does, but forgoes out of a little fretting worry that it might be strange and also he's not sure how to navigate the gesture without running the risk of poking himself in the cheek by a hairpin hidden in Giorno's victory rolls.]
And here I thought it was so boring you had nothing better to do but sleep. [He's teasing. But the compliment pleases him; it's not about his skill with the instrument or his ability to produce technically perfect pieces, but the feeling behind his playing.] I'm glad.
[It comes out a soft, protesting whine. He knows Fugo is teasing him; that doesn't matter. If he complains, that allows Fugo to tease him more, which is only fair, he thinks, because he's been fairly vicious so far today. Out of nerves mostly, but nonetheless.]
It's not my fault you're soothing. Maybe if you were playing that--if it was Liszt again. I'd be very awake. That's like coffee all on its own.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Probably.]
you think too much about me
so did you like the piano idea?
[:)]
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you
I am NOT answering that
yes it sounds interesting. although you'd be limited to black and white.
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but only a little ♥
that's not such a hardship. black and white is very classy and elegant.
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It certainly is. Case in point: Buccellati.
I actually used to wear a lot of black and white. But that was ages and ages ago.
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you embarrassed me so i had to get you back
at least you didn't say that to my face i'd die
i probably will die at some point in the future over that or something similar
but anyway
oh i like colors on you
i think it was a good change
too much black and white can be drab (for non-bruno people)
example: polnareff needs to stop just wearing black shirts, i hate it
that said, the occasional black and white outfit as contrast is lovely
anyway you did say i could dress you up
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Regardless, I think overall you embarrass me more. Statistically speaking.
To be honest, as much as I like it, I think a lot of colors look kind of weird on me.
Considering my overall lack of melanin. Thanks for nothing, genetics.
So I just wore a lot of black and white, because it was the only thing that didn't look so strange.
But once I stopped caring about looking strange it was honestly like a whole new world of (obnoxious) colors opened up for me.
Anyway the point is: yes I'm fine with it and would actually greatly appreciate your help in figuring out a costume. So this doesn't have to count as dressing up if you don't want it to.
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really think it is much closer to equal than you think it is
really
i think most colors look cute on you
and even if they don't per se you wear them like you'll fight anyone who bothers you about it which is appealing
oh really
i get to dress you up again?
hm
okay
that's good because i have a lot of ideas for that too
although i was willing to use my dressing up allowance for this since i want you to feel comfortable
on the date
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Like right now. You're doing it on purpose. You're being a bully and conceintious at the same time.
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i think i'm just better (sometimes) at pretending i haven't been embarrassed
but you can be very overwhelming just because i like you so much and you are very
honest? when you say nice things to me
and i like it but it also makes me squirm a little
i do like to bully you though
sometimes it's revenge but mostly it's just fun
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Is it weird to say that it's-- I didn't realize, but it's not surprising?
Because I know you feel things the same way I do, sometimes.
ie: very very strongly
I've come to that conclusion, yes. You and Trish both.
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it just means you're observant which of course i already knew
and even if i hadn't before i would have known after you figured out h. axyridis
honestly: i am just a good liar
which is how i was able to talk to you for so long without mentioning kissing you
trish is better at it than i am
she used to embarrass me when she wasn't embarrassing other people with me
are you in the theater already
i'm outside and i don't see a tacky sweater
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I've gotten pretty garbage at it when it comes to people I trust.
Which I guess is a good thing overall but sometimes can be frustrating.
In the sport of embarrassing people, Trish is an Olympic athlete.
yes because it's kind of cold
I'm on the stage already actually
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which i don't always like
so it's complicated!
trish is perfect though so statistically she's an outlier
[And . . . then he heads into the theater and, while doing so, makes a conscious effort to be less excited. He's buzzing with it, but even he can tell it's going to be overwhelming for Fugo. It's overwhelming for him and they're his own feelings.]
[So he's got the broom over one shoulder, dustpan attached, and a cup of coffee in the other hand, which, once he gets onto the stage, he holds out to Fugo. It's a couple minutes past the stroke of No More Coffee For Pannacotta, but this was the most precisely accurate nonverbal way to articulate the strange and confusing swell of delighted happiness and nerves he's feeling.]
Hi.
[Hi, and he grins like an idiot.]
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His hand drops to his side when he hears the sounds of someone entering the theater and spots Giorno. Like usual, he doesn't smile. Instead he scoots back a little on the stage, lets his legs drop, rests one ankle over the other, and idly starts to swing them back and forth. Giorno's ... really happy today. It's a little infectious. And he brought coffee, despite it being a few minutes past the time in the afternoon when Giorno's arbitrary ban on coffee starts until the next morning.]
Hi. Thanks for coming. [He closes the watch with a click and lets it drop on top of his bag, so he can reach up and out to take the cup with both hands. It's difficult to ignore the way his chest flutters when their fingers briefly brush together, but he manages. Somehow. Fugo breathes in the smell of it, eyes briefly closing, and sighs contently.] And for bringing me coffee.
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Well. You're welcome.
[He lowers the broom to the stage and sits down on the edge himself, letting his legs dangle and swing. Every few moments his foot bumps against Fugo's. It makes him smile.]
I had to double back to the shop anyway because you embarrassed me. So. [Anyway. He tugs at Fugo's sleeve a little.] I like this sweater. It's a good color for you.
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Sorry. [A twitchy, apologetic smile darts across Fugo's face. It's one thing to tease a little over the watches, but in person--] I really didn't mean to, you know. I just...
[Fugo kicks his feet forward. His heel makes a light thumping sound when it hits the stage, echoing off into the seats.]
I didn't want to be mistaken, that's all. [He glances down at the elbow of his sweater.] Oh-- really? [His fingers tap restlessly along the edge of the coffee cup.] Thanks. I like red. So I guess it works out.
[Red is a color that catches the eye. It's hard not to look at someone who wears all red. It's the opposite of invisible. It's an odd favorite color for someone who feels uncomfortable being watched and squirms under the attention of too many people.]
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[He waves his hand in a small, vague motion.]
Me. [A single word into which he packs every ounce of his exasperation at his own contrary, counterintuitive nature.] You were very thoughtful. So don't apologize.
[Ah, which reminds him. He bumps Fugo's knee with his own, very gently.]
I think I might have accidentally invited myself here for your practice, not just the cleaning part. I was babbling. Well--my point is that if you'd rather practice alone, let me know? I didn't mean to impose.
[He wrinkles his nose a little, playful.]
Although admittedly I usually do.
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But since it's you and you're helping out with the dustying, I suppose I wouldn't mind the company. [He gives Giorno a lingering sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye, a smile written over every part of his face but his mouth.] And you brought me coffee after my caffeine curfew. That's a pretty effective bribe.
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[That's so stupid. Fugo is so smart, but he's such an idiot at the same time. On the other hand: he's not as much of an idiot as Giorno is for getting all--himself about it. He supposes he's just going to have to learn to live with the fact that he loses all ability to not be charmed by boys once he realizes they smell good. Such is life.]
[Anyway, Fugo's so happy about the coffee, it's hard not to just go with it. He sighs a little, leans his head against Fugo's shoulder, and nods to himself.]
Okay. Since you're flirting with me, I'll stay and pay you back. That seems like a sound plan.
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Fugo doesn't always have the energy or the patience to put up with distractions of someone else in the theater with him. The important implication is that because Giorno is special to him, he gets admittance where others might not. It's a little unfair that Giorno's calling him out on it, especially after leaning on his shoulder like that. Now he can't escape without dislodging him. Or abandoning the coffee. He's much less likely to abandon a fresh cup of usually-forbidden afternoon coffee.] But. Fine. Whatever. You can stay and-- read.
[With one hand holding coffee and the other pinned to his side, Fugo is forced to use the heel of his foot to gesture to his bag.]
You can borrow one of those.
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[He smothers a grin against Fugo's shoulder, doing his best to swallow down the rest of his teasing at the same time. He honestly doesn't want to be too awful, although he's finding it more difficult than anticipated. Mostly the reason he pointed it out was--he's happy about it. That he's here, that Fugo's flirting with him, that he's allowed to stay. That Fugo likes his coffee. It's such a simple thing, but it makes him so happy.]
I'll be good. I promise. No contests. Since it's you.
[That counts as good, in his opinion, because it's not a contest, it's just the same thing again. And equally true anyway. He wiggles a little until he can take Fugo's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.]
Mm, thank you for letting me stay. I like listening to you play. Honestly I'll probably read a little and then just listen for a while, if that's all right.
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That's fine. If you do it that way, it won't feel like you're watching. [He takes another sip of his coffee and swings his legs some.] I was thinking of playing some jazz, today.
[In the months before Bruno's birthday, Fugo has added a significant amount of jazz back into his practice routine. He's kept up with it ostensibly out of a desire for a varied routine and that it's good for him as a pianist to practice a style he struggles with. But, really, it's because he likes sharing pieces he's practiced with the people he likes best every now and then. And Bruno likes jazz.]
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[Jazz? Jazz. He sighs a little, rubbing his cheek against Fugo's shoulder.]
I like it when you play jazz. It's very relaxing. It makes me a little sleepy, but not in a bad way. Just . . . relaxed.
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And here I thought it was so boring you had nothing better to do but sleep. [He's teasing. But the compliment pleases him; it's not about his skill with the instrument or his ability to produce technically perfect pieces, but the feeling behind his playing.] I'm glad.
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[It comes out a soft, protesting whine. He knows Fugo is teasing him; that doesn't matter. If he complains, that allows Fugo to tease him more, which is only fair, he thinks, because he's been fairly vicious so far today. Out of nerves mostly, but nonetheless.]
It's not my fault you're soothing. Maybe if you were playing that--if it was Liszt again. I'd be very awake. That's like coffee all on its own.
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