[From the way Fugo's shoulders draw together and the flustered look on his face, that was not the response he was expecting from Giorno. Oh, no. Giorno's ... calling him on it. Giorno is doing exactly what he asked, except immediately and with the prior knowledge that Fugo doesn't have anywhere he needs to be. His afternoon is completely free for whatever nonsense Giorno would like to get up to, as long as it doesn't involve going outside. Fugo's eyes dart restlessly around the room again, from Giorno to Gold Experience to--
Oh, thank God. There's a distraction that not even Giorno will be able to turn down. His shoulders lose most of their tension as he pens a very important reminder.]
[Oh. Huh. That's . . . actually entirely true. Giorno blinks down at the paper with totally genuine surprise. He'd forgotten in the face of teasing Fugo, which is the most fun he's had in a while. But now he remembers how hungry he is. He really can't argue with Fugo's logic, either.]
[So: compromise. He nods, but then he leans forward and kisses Fugo's forehead. A little lunch, but a little teasing for the road. Lunch road. Yes.]
You know, I really forgot. Thank you for reminding me, Fugo.
[His logic is perfect. Undefeatable in the face of Giorno's fussing about making sure he's eating and sleeping enough. There's no way Giorno will be able to continue to embarrass him. Or so Fugo thinks, until Giorno leans in and kisses his forehead. Then he doesn't think much of anything, first too surprised and then too flustered to think beyond why is Giogio like this and this is so unfair. Where does all this spontaneous affection come from. Why does he never see it coming. All of his information about Giorno's behavior is so completely and totally out of date.]
[Fugo nods, completely red in the face from the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck, and just sort of gives up on continuing their conversation in the notebook. He abandons his pen, rises to his feet, and tugs Giorno's arm in the direction of the table where their completely cold lunch. Giorno needs to quit teasing him and come over and eat.]
[Okay. Yes, okay, he's going to be good. He's going to be good, he's going to quit being rude and he's going to let Fugo tug him across the floor and he's going to eat lunch without making Fugo blush any more than he already is--]
[Except they get halfway to the table, and . . . Giorno giggles. He clamps his hand over his mouth in alarm, shocked at his own rudeness, honestly, but he can't take it back. Fugo's just being really unfairly adorable in his fussiness.]
[At the sound of Giorno not just laughing but giggling-- giggling!-- at him, Fugo's set in a stubborn line and he turns to glance over Giorno a sharp, squinty, and incredibly unimpressed look. He's doing his best to look annoyed (which Fugo would very much argue that he is) but the look is somewhat spoiled by the fact that his ears and cheeks are still very red. He tugs at Giorno's hand, enough of this nonsense, be serious, and walks the two of them over to lunch.]
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Oh, thank God. There's a distraction that not even Giorno will be able to turn down. His shoulders lose most of their tension as he pens a very important reminder.]
Weren't we supposed to eat lunch together?
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[So: compromise. He nods, but then he leans forward and kisses Fugo's forehead. A little lunch, but a little teasing for the road. Lunch road. Yes.]
You know, I really forgot. Thank you for reminding me, Fugo.
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[Fugo nods, completely red in the face from the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck, and just sort of gives up on continuing their conversation in the notebook. He abandons his pen, rises to his feet, and tugs Giorno's arm in the direction of the table where their completely cold lunch. Giorno needs to quit teasing him and come over and eat.]
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[Okay. Yes, okay, he's going to be good. He's going to be good, he's going to quit being rude and he's going to let Fugo tug him across the floor and he's going to eat lunch without making Fugo blush any more than he already is--]
[Except they get halfway to the table, and . . . Giorno giggles. He clamps his hand over his mouth in alarm, shocked at his own rudeness, honestly, but he can't take it back. Fugo's just being really unfairly adorable in his fussiness.]
Sorry! Sorry . . .
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