The boat's all but done. Might make it real obvious once we finish for good. I mean, you know, make it something that isn't just teasing flirting, but really obvious shit.
[That's his general plan of action, anyway: to just start flirting more aggressively.]
Or I could just tell him j'ai envie de toi next French lesson. Ti voglio. Say it just right, all low tone of voice, that'll pretty much get the message across. Especially if we're on my bed again.
[Or, well-- he does, actually, he's usually in favor of that kind of blunt approach, but:]
It'll come out wrong, I do it like that. I'll mean one thing and he'll take it another way.
[Words aren't exactly his forte. And while it's okay for, say, Kakyoin to be so straightforward when confessing to Jotaro, Polnareff doesn't want to mess this up.]
[That actually makes a lot of sense. It's thoughtful. It's cautious, but not overcautious. And it shows an understanding both of Polnareff and of Bruno that's admirable.]
[That squint is quickly turning into a bright smile.]
[He settles in, his back resting on the kitchen wall, Giorno comfortable under his arm. They're good like this, he and his son; he likes it when they're snuggled together like this.]
I've never done any of this with a boy. There was . . . a few, at home, that I should've, but I didn't.
[He inspects his nails briefly, kicks his feet back and forth as he contemplates. Then he smiles.]
So. Do you want to talk about the boys you wanted to do that with? Or all the one million things you're nervous about? Or how nice it is to kiss boys? Or do you want to talk about something else entirely? We could even talk about girls if you wanted. I'm generous like that.
[Stop with the jostling. Stop, because he's stopping himself from asking why didn't you just do it then, because he knows that isn't fair, that Polnareff isn't him. He'll be good.]
[It's an instant answer, and he's not as self-conscious about that as he would have a few months ago.]
He could tell you your fortune, too-- I mean, really tell it to you, not just faking it. He taught me a little one night. I could probably do it now, a little. But, uh, yeah, sandalwood. And you should've seen him in battle. I never stood a chance-- I mean, not that I'd tell him that, but the guy was brilliant. You'd love Magician's Red, he was great-- his Stand was fire-based, right, but it wasn't just blind fire. He could control the flames, direct every one of them where to go. I never stood a chance.
[Okay. Yeah. He gets it. That makes a lot of sense. To be totally, one hundred percent honest, Abdul sounds pretty dreamy as well as just generally amazing. Which adds to the whole "why didn't you just KISS HIM" thing, but so it goes. He's still being good.]
There's something about seeing someone fight. I don't know. It's . . . a compelling reason to find someone very attractive. You know.
[He pushes the fingers of his free hand through his hair, smiling at nothing-- and then sits up suddenly, with a grin.]
I've got a picture of him, you know-- wait here, I want to show you--
[And he's off, slipping out of of Giorno's grip and heading out of the kitchen. Skipping up the stairs, he takes Jotaro's present carefully off the wall and returns. He can't loop an arm around Giorno, not while he's holding the paper open, but he presses tight up against him.]
C'mere--
[It's a beautiful drawing. It's a compilation of drawings, actually, each of them carefully done and colored in. It's hung above his dresser since they made their comic book, and there's not a day goes by that he doesn't appreciate Jotaro for making it.]
[Waiting is agony. He wants to see, but he was told to wait, so he does, kicking his feet fiercely. When Polnareff returns, he reaches his hands out greedily, taking the drawing in his hands with utmost care.]
[He stares down at the drawing. It's bittersweet, really. He still hasn't given up hope on Abdul arriving here; he doesn't think he ever will. But he's not here now, and so the drawing is a little hard to look at. But he looks, because he misses Abdul fiercely, and if he can't have the man in person he's damn well going to see him in illustration.]
Yeah. He, uh . . . he's really something. Him and Magician's Red both.
[Oh. Giorno's swell of affection is sudden and unexpected, but no less enjoyable for it. He throws an arm around him, tugging him into a one-armed hug.]
[Sighing, he leans into the hug, looking down at the picture again. After a moment, he seems to find words.]
It's difficult, remembering the good things, the bright things, even though so much awful has happened. But you always find a way. I think that's very admirable. I want to be able to do it the way that you do.
[It's not so hard. Not for him, anyway. He's got a sunny disposition to begin with, and getting past grief . . . well, he's good at it at this point. He rolls with the punches because he has to; he keeps smiling and laughing because he knows that eventually they'll become genuine again.
He's pleased, though. Polnareff leans over, kissing the side of Giorno's head.]
It helps that I've got so many great people around. You and Jotaro and Kakyoin and Bruno-- I miss Abdul and Sherry and all of them, yeah, but I've got a hell of a lot to look forward to.
Probably? Definitely! No competition, Giorno, you're my favorite and the best! I mean, your siblings are jealous, but it's not their fault you're so great.
[It's a joke, of course, but it's also not. Polnareff leans against Giorno, grinning fiercely, determined to absolutely smother his son in affection. The kid can never have too much love.]
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You're still not allowed to talk to him yet. I want to do this right-- I've got a few ideas on that, actually.
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[giorno breathe]
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[That's his general plan of action, anyway: to just start flirting more aggressively.]
Or I could just tell him j'ai envie de toi next French lesson. Ti voglio. Say it just right, all low tone of voice, that'll pretty much get the message across. Especially if we're on my bed again.
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[................]
[Giorno kind of squints at him.]
You don't . . . think you should just tell him?
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[Or, well-- he does, actually, he's usually in favor of that kind of blunt approach, but:]
It'll come out wrong, I do it like that. I'll mean one thing and he'll take it another way.
[Words aren't exactly his forte. And while it's okay for, say, Kakyoin to be so straightforward when confessing to Jotaro, Polnareff doesn't want to mess this up.]
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[That actually makes a lot of sense. It's thoughtful. It's cautious, but not overcautious. And it shows an understanding both of Polnareff and of Bruno that's admirable.]
[That squint is quickly turning into a bright smile.]
You're so wonderful.
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It'll happen. These things happen. I'll flirt and he'll pick up on it sooner or later, and either he'll return it or he won't.
[A little wryly:]
As he's heard, I've done this before.
now that this thread is FUCKING TRAGIC!!!!!!!
[He wriggles, pleased at the kiss, and maneuvers so he's scooted under Polnareff's arm.]
Fallen in love, or flirted? Because everyone knows you flirt all the time with everyone.
DRAMATIC IRONY AT ITS FINEST
[There's a pretty big distinction. He tugs Giorno in close, jostling him a little.]
But I meant be in a steady relationship. Not just flirting, but something-- you know. More.
[A boyfriend, that's what he means.]
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I don't understand the difference between liking someone a lot and being in love with them. But that's all right.
So you mean you haven't done it before? Been with someone like that. Or just not with a boy?
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[He settles in, his back resting on the kitchen wall, Giorno comfortable under his arm. They're good like this, he and his son; he likes it when they're snuggled together like this.]
I've never done any of this with a boy. There was . . . a few, at home, that I should've, but I didn't.
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[He inspects his nails briefly, kicks his feet back and forth as he contemplates. Then he smiles.]
So. Do you want to talk about the boys you wanted to do that with? Or all the one million things you're nervous about? Or how nice it is to kiss boys? Or do you want to talk about something else entirely? We could even talk about girls if you wanted. I'm generous like that.
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[He jostles him again, though he tugs him in close for another hug immediately afterwards.]
You would've liked him, you know. Abdul.
[So clearly, the choice is: boys you wanted to do that with.]
Two months I spent wanting to kiss him. I can still tell you what he smelled like.
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[Stop with the jostling. Stop, because he's stopping himself from asking why didn't you just do it then, because he knows that isn't fair, that Polnareff isn't him. He'll be good.]
[Instead:]
What did he smell like.
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[It's an instant answer, and he's not as self-conscious about that as he would have a few months ago.]
He could tell you your fortune, too-- I mean, really tell it to you, not just faking it. He taught me a little one night. I could probably do it now, a little. But, uh, yeah, sandalwood. And you should've seen him in battle. I never stood a chance-- I mean, not that I'd tell him that, but the guy was brilliant. You'd love Magician's Red, he was great-- his Stand was fire-based, right, but it wasn't just blind fire. He could control the flames, direct every one of them where to go. I never stood a chance.
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[Okay. Yeah. He gets it. That makes a lot of sense. To be totally, one hundred percent honest, Abdul sounds pretty dreamy as well as just generally amazing. Which adds to the whole "why didn't you just KISS HIM" thing, but so it goes. He's still being good.]
There's something about seeing someone fight. I don't know. It's . . . a compelling reason to find someone very attractive. You know.
[godddddddd-uh]
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[He pushes the fingers of his free hand through his hair, smiling at nothing-- and then sits up suddenly, with a grin.]
I've got a picture of him, you know-- wait here, I want to show you--
[And he's off, slipping out of of Giorno's grip and heading out of the kitchen. Skipping up the stairs, he takes Jotaro's present carefully off the wall and returns. He can't loop an arm around Giorno, not while he's holding the paper open, but he presses tight up against him.]
C'mere--
[It's a beautiful drawing. It's a compilation of drawings, actually, each of them carefully done and colored in. It's hung above his dresser since they made their comic book, and there's not a day goes by that he doesn't appreciate Jotaro for making it.]
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[Well.]
Wow.
[i saw a man so beautiful i started to cry???]
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[He stares down at the drawing. It's bittersweet, really. He still hasn't given up hope on Abdul arriving here; he doesn't think he ever will. But he's not here now, and so the drawing is a little hard to look at. But he looks, because he misses Abdul fiercely, and if he can't have the man in person he's damn well going to see him in illustration.]
Yeah. He, uh . . . he's really something. Him and Magician's Red both.
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I'm proud of you, Papa. I don't think I tell you that enough, but I am.
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Where'd that come from?
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[Sighing, he leans into the hug, looking down at the picture again. After a moment, he seems to find words.]
It's difficult, remembering the good things, the bright things, even though so much awful has happened. But you always find a way. I think that's very admirable. I want to be able to do it the way that you do.
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[It's not so hard. Not for him, anyway. He's got a sunny disposition to begin with, and getting past grief . . . well, he's good at it at this point. He rolls with the punches because he has to; he keeps smiling and laughing because he knows that eventually they'll become genuine again.
He's pleased, though. Polnareff leans over, kissing the side of Giorno's head.]
It helps that I've got so many great people around. You and Jotaro and Kakyoin and Bruno-- I miss Abdul and Sherry and all of them, yeah, but I've got a hell of a lot to look forward to.
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I'm pretty great, huh? I'm the best son you've ever had, probably.
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[It's a joke, of course, but it's also not. Polnareff leans against Giorno, grinning fiercely, determined to absolutely smother his son in affection. The kid can never have too much love.]
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