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Mista had always cooked. It wasn’t something he really thought about. He liked good food, so he liked to cook. When he was younger his mother was never home to make dinner so, naturally, he taught himself. It was the least he could do. He never minded it and actually found it kind of relaxing. It was something he could do to shut his brain off. He didn’t really have to think when he was cooking. He remembered when Narancia learned that he was a decent cook and he started harassing him for meals. Mista used to pretend it annoyed him, but in all honesty it was fun to attempt some of the wild dishes that Narancia would come up with. Sometimes they worked out and sometimes they didn’t, but they always had fun.
Giorno was a totally different story, however. He was a complete disaster in the kitchen. Giorno was a pretty smart kid and for the most part could always take care of himself, but Mista had never seen someone look as helpless as he did when it came to cooking. When they had first moved in together Mista hadn’t thought twice about throwing out ideas for what they could make for dinner that night. Giorno had stared at him sheepishly, his ears turning a little pink.
“I don’t really know how to cook.”
Mista blinked at him. “Oh.” He recovered quickly as he noticed Giorno’s ears starting to turn more of a red. “That’s okay, I can teach you.”
That had been much easier said than done. Mista had watched Giorno fearlessly face certain death, but something as simple as boiling pasta terrified him.
“How do I know when it’s done?”
“Uuumm.” Mista glanced over his shoulder at Giorno and shrugged, “It’s just done when it’s done. I mean, you could time it I guess, I just never do.”
Mista put down his knife and walked over to the stove, holding out a hand for Giorno to give him the spoon he’d been using. He fished out a piece of pasta, blew on it and went to eat it but Giorno let out a small squeak. Mista had never heard him do that before so he froze and looked at him in confusion.
Giorno had a look of intense concern, “What are you doing?”
“I’m seeing if the pasta is done.”
“But, isn’t it hot?”
“Yeah, but it’s fine.”
Mista chuckled to himself shaking his head as he ate the pasta. It was way undercooked as he had expected.
After a few failures and burnt meals, Giorno seemed to have given up on trying to learn how to cook. Instead he would sometimes just sit at the island in the kitchen and watch Mista silently. Mista didn’t mind, he liked his company, besides maybe Giorno might learn better by watching.
It was all very funny to Mista. Giorno was so smart and talented when it came to so many things that the thing he didn’t know how to do blew Mista’s mind. But he supposed that Giorno had never gotten the chance to have a normal life and do normal things, so it shouldn’t have surprised him too much.
There were a lot of things that Mista learned about Giorno once they started living together. He learned that Giorno was a bit of a homebody. He didn’t go out much and almost never went out on his own which was a relief to Mista who got anxiety-ridden anytime he did go anywhere without him.
Giorno wasn’t a super social person, though he tried his best to go out and interact with the public as much as he could, but he much preferred to be alone. Well, not exactly alone. Mista quickly learned that wherever he went in the apartment, Giorno was sure to join him. He would just sort of meander into the room and find somewhere to sit and do work or watch Mista. If it was anyone other than Giorno, Mista might have felt uncomfortable, but his presence never felt invasive to him. It was kind of nice to have someone always there.
Giorno also had a habit of spacing out a bit. He would be reading something and suddenly he would get this look and Mista knew that he was somewhere in his head. But eventually he would snap back. Sometimes he’d look around as if he was embarrassed and Mista would often pretend that he didn’t notice, but he always did. He thought it was cute though. Just like he thought it was cute how Giorno would sometimes absentmindedly turn things into plants or small insects. Mista wondered if it was a form of self soothing as Giorno tended to do it more when he was under a lot of stress. Sometimes Mista would come into the office and find a flower on the corner of his desk. He never said anything, he would just go get a glass of water to put it in, but it always made him smile. It wasn’t long before nearly every windowsill in the apartment was filled with plants that Giorno had made.
Another thing that Mista had learned very early on was that Giorno hated to be late. Any time they had something to do or somewhere to go, he was always ready an hour before. Mista still remembered the first time they actually were late to something. Giorno had tried hard to hide how stressed he was, but he kept tapping his thumb on his leg and glancing nervously at the clock while they were in the car. The tension in his body was undeniable and to Mista he might as well have been screaming the whole way there. After that, Mista did everything he could to make sure that they were never late again.
The habit of Giorno’s that had surprised Mista the most, however, was how often he touched him. When it came to most people, Giorno kept a good distance from them. He never appeared to be a very touchy person, but with Mista it was different. He almost stood on top of him half the time. When they sat next to each other it was almost as if Giorno had to be touching him in some way. Sometimes it was their shoulders, sometimes their knees, and sometimes Giorno would rest his hand next to Mista’s so they were touching.
But Mista wasn’t sure how much of it was intentional. A part of him wanted to think it all was, that Giorno wanted to be close to him and made an effort to do so, but the cynical part of him couldn’t believe that. But still, Mista wondered if Giorno knew that everytime he put his hand on his shoulder or touched his back in the gentle way he always did that it made Mista’s stomach do summersaults. Could Giorno hear his heart racing every time he would scoot closer to lean his head on Mista’s shoulder when they watched movies? Did he ever notice his breathing change when he grabbed his hand? Or see the red in his cheeks when Giorno leaned a little too close.
At first Mista had tried to push down the feelings as much as he could. He dismissed them and ignored them, but eventually they had been undeniable. He was hopelessly in love with Giorno Giovanna. But he was almost certain that Giorno couldn’t feel the same way. Why would Giorno ever have feelings for him? So he chose to accept the fact that he would never be able to be with Giorno and instead decided the best he could do was make Giorno happy in the ways he was able to. Lately, however, Giorno wasn’t doing much to help Mista with his resolve, especially since he’d started the new habit of falling asleep on Mista in the middle of movies. Mista had thought about suggesting that they watch movies earlier or maybe not on nights when Giorno was obviously tired, but part of him liked the feeling of Giorno’s body against his. Besides, was there really any harm in it?
Mista put his arm out to hold the elevator door for Giorno. They had just finished up with all their work for the day. It hadn’t been a very hectic day. A few people had stopped by, Giorno had some meetings with some of the cappos, but all in all, it had been a relatively uneventful day.
The elevator door closed and Mista stepped back to lean against the bars next to Giorno who shifted his weight slightly so their shoulders just barely touched. Mista glanced at him and could tell that he was contemplating something.
“What?”
Giorno tugged nervously at his sleeve with his other hand, “What were you planning for dinner?” he asked slowly.
Mista’s eyebrows knit. He wasn’t sure why Giorno was fidgeting so much. “Um, I was thinking of making some ravioli or something. I still have quite a bit of pasta dough left and it might not last until tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Giorno went silent for a moment. “Is that hard to make?”
“Not really, it’s mostly just making a filling and a sauce. Why?”
“Do you think I could help?” Giorno asked shyly.
Mista should have guessed it was something like that. Giorno only really got like this when it came to things he wasn’t good at. The elevator dinged and the doors opened as Mista considered it. It wasn’t something difficult for him to cook, but it might be a little challenging for Giorno.
They stood in the elevator for a moment and Giorno glanced away, “I know I’m not really much help- probably more of a hindrance- but I thought that maybe I could-”
“Sure.” Mista cut him off, “I’d love for you to help.”
Giorno smiled excitedly at him and Mista felt a little light headed as they made their way to the apartment door. He wondered what had made Giorno suddenly want to try cooking again, but he didn’t want to question it. If it made Giorno happy, that was all that mattered to him.
Giorno waited patiently as Mista got out all the ingredients they’d need. Mista looked at everything for a moment and wondered what would be the best thing to have Giorno start with.
“Um okay, how about you start by chopping some tomatoes and we’ll go from there.”
Giorno nodded eagerly and Mista set him up with a cutting board and knife as he started dicing some onions next to him. After a minute he glanced over at Giorno to see how he was doing and felt his heart jump into his throat. He made a sound that was almost like a little yelp and Giorno looked up at him in confusion.
“Don’t- ahhhh- what are- stop.” Mista struggled to get words out between desperate hand motions. “Curl your fingers when you’re chopping.”
Giorno looked down at the hand he was holding the tomato with and then back up at Mista, “What?”
“It-” Mista sighed. “Look how I have my fingers.” He demonstrated how to position his fingers on the onionhe'd been cutting.
Giorno moved his hand around a bit, trying to get his fingers in the right position while still holding the tomato. “How…” He said a little frustrated. No matter how he positioned his hand it felt awkward to him.
“Okay,” Mista put down his knife and walked over to Giorno. “Here.” He stood behind him wrapping his arm around him to take his hand and show him how to do it. “There, that way you won’t cut your fingers off.”
Giorno looked up at him and it felt as if he was leaning into him. “I wasn’t going to cut my fingers off.” He said defensively.
Mista’s voice caught in his throat a moment as he became too aware of their closeness. He felt his cheeks heating up and let go of Giorno’s hand, turning away from him for a second as he walked back over to his cutting board, trying to calm himself down.
“Giorno, people don’t cut off their fingers when they’re cooking on purpose.” Mista could hear a slight nervous shaking in his voice. God, he hoped Giorno hadn’t noticed.
Mista glanced at him as casually as he could. Giorno was watching him. He pretended not to notice and focused on his chopping. After a minute Mista felt Giorno look away and he let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he’d been holding.
After that, everything seemed to be going pretty smoothly. They mixed together the filling for the ravioli and once Mista showed Giorno how to make the ravioli, he left him to cut and fill the rest of them while he worked on the sauce.
“Once the water is boiling, you can put in the Ravioli. They’ll cook pretty quickly, but you’ll know they’re done when they start to float.”
Giorno stood patiently next to Mista by the stove waiting for the water to boil. Mista tried not to smile. He looked so focused, staring at the pot as if he was going to miss something. He was going to be waiting for a while. It was cute. He had some semolina flour on his shirt and a small smudge on his jaw. It was rare that Mista got to see Giorno messy like this, he was always so neat and put together.
The two of them just stood there silently as Mista stirred the sauce. He didn’t really need to, but he wanted to stay there with Giorno. Eventually the water started boiling and Giorno grabbed the bowl of Ravioli. He tipped it to pour them into the water. They made a popping sound as they slid in.
“Ah.”
The sound had been quiet, but Mista had heard it. His head snapped in Giorno’s direction just in time to see him flinch away from the pot and loudly drop the bowl on the counter. The last few ravioli had fallen out as a clump and Giorno had been splashed by the hot water.
“Giorno!” Mista stepped closer, grabbing Giorno’s hand and pulling him away from the stove. “You have to be careful.” Mista looked at his hand, unintentionally forcing Giorno to close the remaining space between them. “Are you okay?” His voice suddenly became soft.
Giorno stared at him for a moment, “Yeah, I was just surprised is all.”
Mista met his eyes and Giorno held them there for a beat too long. Mista could feel the heat returning to his cheeks and he let go of Giorno’s hand, dropping his eye.
“Sorry.” he murmured and he could still feel Giorno’s eyes searching his face.
He tried to step away, but Giorno grabbed his other hand to stop him. Mista felt his stomach flip as his breathing became shallower. He met Giorno’s eyes again and felt a jolt as he saw how softly he was looking at him. It felt warm. Slowly, Giorno reached his free hand up to touch Mista’s face, wiping something from his cheek with his thumb. Mista’s heart was pounding in his chest as the two of them stared at each other for a long while. Giorno raised himself on his toes and leaned in closer until there was less than an inch between their faces. The sound of Mista’s shaking breathing seemed amplified in their closeness. Then Giorno leaned in even more and Mista’s breath caught in his throat just as Giorno pressed his lips to his.
Mista’s head felt weightless as his knees suddenly turned to jelly. He thought for a moment that he was going to pass out, but somehow managed to pull himself out of it. Giorno’s lips were so warm and soft against his and he felt the heat from his face shooting through his whole body. After a moment Giorno broke away, leaving the smallest space between them as if he was hoping for something more. Mista’s chest swelled and before he could think too much about it, he returned the kiss and allowed himself to melt into it.
Giorno slid his arms around his neck and Mista grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer. He could feel his body relaxing, surrendering itself. Then suddenly the phone rang and the two of them jumped apart. Mista felt like he was having a heart attack and they both stood there for a moment staring at each other as the phone continued to ring. Shaking himself back to reality, Mista hesitantly picked it up.
“Hi.” He said a little breathlessly.
The shakiness was coming back and his head was swimming. He could barely hear Fugo on the other end of the line and it took all his effort to understand what he was telling him. Mista’s ears were ringing and his voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. He could feel Giorno watching him, but he was afraid what would happen if he looked at him.
“Okay…yeah…yeah…of course…yeah.” Mista hung up the phone and there was silence for a moment. “Um…uh…” He felt like his brain was fuzzy. He couldn’t think. “That was- I have to- Fugo, he needs...” Mista took a breath and looked at Giorno. “I have to go, sorry.” The last bit came out as almost a whisper.
“Okay.” Giorno said quietly, shifting his feet awkwardly. Mista felt his heart sink when he realized that for the first time since he’d known Giorno he seemed truly unsure of himself.
“We can um, we can talk when I get back.” Mista smiled at him nervously. He wasn’t sure how to reassure Giorno right now, especially when he wasn’t even really sure what he should do with himself.
A smile tugged at the corner of Giorno’s mouth and his eye lit up again. “Okay.”
·༻❀༺·
“Sorry, that took a little longer than I had hoped.” Mista called into the apartment as he closed the door behind him.
Giorno jumped up from the couch and hurried over to him, “That’s okay, but why don’t we eat, you must be hungry.”
“You waited for me? Why?”
“Because I wanted to eat with you.” Giorno casually slid his hand around Mista’s waist as he went onto his toes to kiss him on the cheek. Mista’s breath caught and Giorno stepped back onto his heels to look at him. “Is this okay?” He asked cautiously.
“Yes.” Mista breathed. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
Giorno grinned back at him and taking his hand led Mista to the table. Mista stopped walking after a moment and Giorno looked back at him confused.
“Giorno…” He started, but he was having a hard time figuring out the right words. This was something he’d wanted for so long, but now he wasn’t sure what to do. Why did he feel so scared? “Why?”
Giorno tilted his head slightly as he looked at him before his expression shifted. There was an unmistakable look of adoration in his eyes and Mista felt his stomach flutter. “You make me happy.” Giorno said matter of factly, taking both of Mista’s hands in his and stepping closer. “When I’m with you I feel safe and like I can relax. It’s easy for me to be around you. You feel like home.”
Mista stared at him, his heart racing. He opened his mouth to speak, but again, couldn’t find the words. That hadn’t been what he had expected.
He stood there in shock and swimming in emotions as Giorno reached up and took his chin, running his thumb along his lower lip.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly.
Mista’s throat felt tight. He was a bit overwhelmed. But it was good. He let out a small shakey laugh. “Yes,” he smiled. “Always.”