[How is it. That with just a little touch like that, Giorno can undo the knots of tension that threaten to tie themselves up in-- all of him, really. Fugo shivers at the trail Giorno's fingertips take, winding up his arm; across his shoulder, then down his side.
Because that's the first place that Giorno is going to leave a mark on him tonight. There: right there, at that very particular spot underneath his ribs.]
Giogio-- [In this moment, what he feels is just ... too big for words. He wants so badly to be touched, for Giorno to stop teasing him and kiss him already, but he also just wants to stare up at him like this forever. Giorno is beautiful every day: that's simply a fact. But he's particularly beautiful when he's being wicked, with his smile sharp as the blade of a knife. It's so overwhelming. Fugo loves him even though he's so mean, and why won't he kiss him--
Oh. Oh, thank God. Fugo can't help the sound of relief that escapes him when Giorno finally, finally closes the gap between them. It just sort of happens, like the way he presses up to meet him, insistent and needy and with very little of his usual carefulness, and how his fingers let go of the nightgown so he can fit his hands around Giorno's waist instead. There. That will keep Giorno in place; close and warm and perfect.]
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Because that's the first place that Giorno is going to leave a mark on him tonight. There: right there, at that very particular spot underneath his ribs.]
Giogio-- [In this moment, what he feels is just ... too big for words. He wants so badly to be touched, for Giorno to stop teasing him and kiss him already, but he also just wants to stare up at him like this forever. Giorno is beautiful every day: that's simply a fact. But he's particularly beautiful when he's being wicked, with his smile sharp as the blade of a knife. It's so overwhelming. Fugo loves him even though he's so mean, and why won't he kiss him--
Oh. Oh, thank God. Fugo can't help the sound of relief that escapes him when Giorno finally, finally closes the gap between them. It just sort of happens, like the way he presses up to meet him, insistent and needy and with very little of his usual carefulness, and how his fingers let go of the nightgown so he can fit his hands around Giorno's waist instead. There. That will keep Giorno in place; close and warm and perfect.]