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Giorno Giovanna is not a particularly superstitious person. Sure, he has things he believes in, like the concept of a bigger entity that overlooks the Universe—or God, if you don't have time for poetry—and growing up in such old countries like Japan and Italy made it very hard not to get some superstitions from the old ladies that seemed almost as old as the country.
Everything has a story and a myth, and not even Giorno is immune to the concepts of things like luck.
But he never reached Guido Mista's level. Mista is usually a very laid-back guy, sometimes even passable as "lazy" thanks to his usual slouch and easy going smile. But, God , is he superstitious. Don't step on the cracks of the sidewalk, don't go under a stair and, by all that is most sacred, don't even think about the number four.
And Giorno usually has no problems with that. The superstitions are harmless, so hopping over cracks and avoiding being under stairs don't really bother him. The number four is a bit trickier to avoid, but he adjusts. Don't make an appointment for 16h, don't stack four piles of paperwork on the desk, don't leave with four bodyguards.
As if he'd need four bodyguards, Mista is the equivalent of three by himself, the other one who tags along is more to show than anything.
So he doesn't have a problem with Guido's beliefs.
Until the number four decided to actually demonstrate why it is feared so much by the gunman.
But before we do that, let's go back to Giorno for a second.
Giorno Giovanna is a being of unequaled determination and will power with a good dash of stubbornness for flavor. When he wants something, he’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, and failure will only make him more determined, returning when he has better odds to try again.
And he wants Guido Mista.
Romantically.
Giorno admitted to himself at some point in the last five years, as he’s not one to lie to himself, but to take his sweet time allowing himself to accept things. He thinks he owes at least himself such honesty, seeing as he hides much of himself from the world.
(There’s also the fact Giorno Giovanna is not used to love. He can understand the concept, as he can understand the concept of pretty much anything, but what truly love is just never came to mind until he met his gangster family, and romantic love only came when he one day looked at the mirror and declared to his tired reflection that he wanted to kiss Mista.)
So yeah, it might have taken him a whole journey to kill his boss plus more or less five years of subconscious pining after his right hand man, but that’s not the important part. The fact is: Giorno wants Guido Mista. Romantically, desperately, to the point he craved the other like a plant craved the sunlight.
Of course, that meant he has to confess to Mista, which shouldn’t be a problem because Mista has let clear that he has some feelings for Giorno. Mista is an honest person, because it was much simpler to simply wear the truth than a lie, and Mista has no problems being open with Giorno after over five years of being together. It had caught the blonde by surprise, but he appreciates it immensely. Being good at reading people didn’t make it any less tiring.
So the young boss has the will and the chance, the perfect scenario had just fell onto his lap and he even thinks of praying to thank God later, as religious as he isn’t.
Or at least he thought about it until a few weeks ago.
Now he wants to give God a stern talking to for creating the number four.
Ah, yes, time to go back to the subject of the number Guido hates more than anything and how Giorno is starting to believe it truly is a cursed number.
The first time Giorno tries to confess, he does it on impulse. Takes his phone, his private cell phone, in his hands and dialed Mista’s number. Problem? It is four in the afternoon, which means Guido has passed out after stuffing himself and Sex Pistols with food. The “siesta” is the best way to avoid being awake during that dreadful hour, and the shooter takes advantage of that every time he isn’t needed.
After softly chastising himself for letting himself get so distracted he didn’t notice the time, Giorno promises to do it after the man awoke. And he would have done it, hadn’t four new missions come to light, and Guido would be the right choice for one of them. So the young boss has to hold it until next time.
Four days later, Mista returns with a tired smile and four broken fingers, and the blonde has to ask Fugo to keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t break another finger to make it five. Confessing just doesn’t feel right when Guido is slumped on the couch trying to calm Five down after a spike of pain.
Next time he tries to confess, it’s a beautiful day. He’s finally taking a break to breathe some fresh air. Pretty much all of his team—yes, they are still his team no matter what he is for Passione—had tried to take him away from his work before he overworked himself to death—he tends to when he’s restless over something. Figures that Bruno would be the one to do it by asking Mista to ask him.
After such long years, the team has reached a level of understanding of each other not even them can fully understand. So, of course, all of them knows something is up with him. Even Trish, who’s not as present in the mafia thanks to her career in fashion and the insistence from Bruno for her to live a somewhat normal life, can tell from her weekly video calls and monthly visits. And, of course, all of them are going to do something about it. Except for Leone, who’ll keep to himself until the situation annoys him enough.
(Giorno will not be surprised if Bruno tells him he knew about his feelings for Mista years before the boss himself. In fact, he’ll be surprised if Bruno doesn’t. )
So they’re both walking around town, looking for somewhere to have lunch as it’s almost midday, people greeting them left and right. Don Giovanna is a very well loved figure in the city, and so are his Capos. Though Mista tends to be more liked by the younger, prettier female population than the kind grandmas that fill Bruno’s arms with baked treats or the children who “sneak” candies to Narancia. It is not surprising, then, when two girls come to talk with them. It is annoying how they seem to focus on his bodyguard instead of him like they usually do.
He’s jealous, he wants Mista’s attention to himself.
He doesn’t blame them, of course, Mista is a catch. Tall and muscular without being burly, looking like a professional swimmer, built for agility and speed, hidden only by the dark blue button up he makes a point of wearing almost completely open—a blessing and a curse, if you ask Giorno—and the bright orange tiger print pants. He has an angular jawline with the start of a stubble, probably didn’t feel like shaving before leaving. Trish had confiscated his hat earlier, exclaiming the pants and the shirt were more than enough, not even daring to mention the white boots that comes to just below his knees and adds half an inch to his height, so his short curly hair is free to curl even more with the warm breeze. His tanned skin is begging to be touched and his plump lips need to be kissed by one mafia Don.
Which means the girls are not going away soon enough.
Then another two appear and Giorno feels the sweet, sweet victory in his mouth. Four girls in total and the brunette is out. He can’t help the chuckle— not a giggle, Trish—when his most trusted tells the girls to go away, grabs his boss’ wrist and hurries to some restaurant.
Sadly, he can’t confess because four different people decided that coming to talk with the Don was a good idea and by the time there’s no one else to talk, both men are already finished and have to separate, Bruno coming to take the boss back and Mista having a mission. Giorno watches longingly, sitting in Bruno’s car, as his crush waves and walks away.
“Bruno, I hate the number four.”
The man chuckles at his boss’ pout.
The next four weeks— four damn weeks —go like this: Giorno Giovanna is handed a great scenario to finally confess, the number four comes and spoils everything. Four enemies appear. Four Dons request an alliance. Four of their men die suspiciously. Four, four, four.
At this point, the blonde is seriously considering just kissing the living daylights of his bodyguard right in front of the whole mafia world.
“I hate the number four.”
“Same, boss.”
Giorno huffs in amusement, fondly looking at his subordinate. Mista is relaxed, thrown on the chair near the window the boss put there specifically for him, but there is a sharpness to his deep dark eyes. It is not threatening, no, Guido Mista would never look at his boss such a way, but it is still sharp. Sharp, calculating and knowing . Giorno guesses he should’ve figured the other would know what is going on. Very little escapes the sharpshooter’s eyes, specially when he focuses.
He looks handsome as always, with the tackiest clothes one would dare to buy and a familiar old hat. He has that ability to make the ridiculous look good, just like how Giorno can make the impossible probable.
“I love you, Guido Mista.”
“I was wondering if you would take much longer.” There is some cheekiness in his grin as he gets up, but his eyes are lighted with passion. He reaches the table in no time, grabbing his Don’s hands; a bold move considering Giorno is not much fond of touching, yet he finds himself not minding if it’s a certain gangster. “I love you too, Giorno.”
“Why not tell me earlier?”
“Figured you’d eventually work it out. I know you like to ruminate before doing anything.” He chuckles, one hand caressing the blonde’s cheek tenderly. “Besides, I never hid it, you knew pretty much since the beginning.”
Giorno Giovanna is not a particularly superstitious person.
It’s just that the number four truly is cursed.
That’s why he makes sure to give Guido much more than four kisses.