[ It really didn't take him long to come over, knocking on the door before shoving his hands in his pockets while he waited. Was it weird for him to ask Abbacchio to help him out with something like this?
It was just, you know, friends doing friend things. At least he hadn't asked what he needed chroma for, that might have been weird to tell him too. No matter how long it took for him to answer the door, as soon it was opened Abbacchio would be met with a slight wave. ]
[ It was a little surprising that he'd managed to put something together so fast, but it wasn't something that he was going to show right away. He really hadn't been over here, just seen it in the video but this was...
Painfully gothic, not really in a bad way but holy hell he must have a shit ton of chroma. He took his gun out of his waistband as he stepped through the door, taking the moment to set the pistols free of their own accord before settling on the couch next to the other man. ]
[it's just slicing up cheese and tomato and shit dude it's not difficult cooking!!
well they are sure sitting next to each other. welp, anyway. he just sighs and slings an arm around mista's shoulders. that's... probably an okay start.]
Yeah? What the hell do you think I'm busy with?
Anyway. You and the others are always gonna come first.
[ There was the incredulous raise of his brow, Mista canting his head curiously. ]
You know, busy with all your...stuff...
[ And by stuff, yeah, he really did mean fucking. He shifted awkwardly under Abbacchio's arm, not that it wasn't comforting in a way but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his own arm.
You've hugged before, Mista, don't make it weird. It was with that resolve he shifted to slip his own arm around Abbacchio. See, totally not weird. ]
Either doing it right or just not giving a shit. Haven't really decided.
But I didn't ever do something like this back in my flat in Napoli. If I can't go back, might as well make the most of it here while I can.
[Which is the truth. This is going to be the closest he can have a home for awhile before he goes to... well, wherever. He's alive now, but being sent back, what does that mean even? Does it mean he goes back to the afterlife, or does he just wake up back in Italy? He has no idea.
But he assumes it's back to being dead. How else could it be?]
[There's the instinct to ruffle hair, because it's what he does to Narancia (who likes it) and used to toward Fugo (who fucking hated it), but Mista's hat is super in the way so all he can do is just cuddle. Well, whatever.]
When I wipe my ass, I'll think of you.
[He's joking. That will definitely not happen.]
Anyway, no big deal. You have more mouths to feed than most of us have to worry about. Even if Moody Blues ate, that's nothing in comparison to the Pistols.
[ He rested his head against Abbacchio again, breathing out a snort of laughter. ]
Yeah, yeah, I'd rather you didn't. The last thing I want is for you to start associating me with taking a shit.
[ He'd already said thank you enough, it might have made things awkward if he kept singing his praises the way he had been. Ultimately, this was warm and he didn't mind the contact. It was practice or something, he needed it since some of his other hugs had been equally weird.
Instead of saying anything else, he just brought his other arm up around to pull in a little more. More contact, more chroma and weirdly comforting. You know, aside from the fact that he was really in a position to notice how stacked Abbacchio was. ]
text; backdated to the end of sanguis
can i ask you a favour?
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what's up
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do you wanna come over and cuddle or something
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i mean
if that's cool with you
or we can just hold hands or something
cuddling gets more chroma, I think
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come over i'll make something for the pistols too
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i really appreciate it
the pistols will be happy too
i'll be over soon then?
[ you know, so long as abbacchio was cool with him coming over right now ]
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i'll put something together for you guys
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It was just, you know, friends doing friend things. At least he hadn't asked what he needed chroma for, that might have been weird to tell him too. No matter how long it took for him to answer the door, as soon it was opened Abbacchio would be met with a slight wave. ]
Yo.
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I got some tea and caprese salad put together for your Stand. C'mon.
[He shuts the door after Mista before getting comfortable on this couch, pouring tea for himself.]
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Painfully gothic, not really in a bad way but holy hell he must have a shit ton of chroma. He took his gun out of his waistband as he stepped through the door, taking the moment to set the pistols free of their own accord before settling on the couch next to the other man. ]
Thanks again, I know you're a busy guy...
[ Meant in the nicest way possible. ]
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well they are sure sitting next to each other. welp, anyway. he just sighs and slings an arm around mista's shoulders. that's... probably an okay start.]
Yeah? What the hell do you think I'm busy with?
Anyway. You and the others are always gonna come first.
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You know, busy with all your...stuff...
[ And by stuff, yeah, he really did mean fucking. He shifted awkwardly under Abbacchio's arm, not that it wasn't comforting in a way but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his own arm.
You've hugged before, Mista, don't make it weird. It was with that resolve he shifted to slip his own arm around Abbacchio. See, totally not weird. ]
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[Okay now it does occur to him that Mista means the fucking, so he just rolls his eyes a little bit.]
C'mon, it's not like I'm doing that everyday.
[Okay sure he had to make a literal schedule, but besides that.]
Anyway, I mean it. You and the others are more important that. [So fucking take his hug like a MAN.]
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Yeah, well, you're doing something right if you can afford all this shit...
[ Wait. Fuck. That came out wrong. ]
...I mean, not really, like shit like I hate it, but you know?
[ He's taking this hug, though, and he's not letting go. ]
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But I didn't ever do something like this back in my flat in Napoli. If I can't go back, might as well make the most of it here while I can.
[Which is the truth. This is going to be the closest he can have a home for awhile before he goes to... well, wherever. He's alive now, but being sent back, what does that mean even? Does it mean he goes back to the afterlife, or does he just wake up back in Italy? He has no idea.
But he assumes it's back to being dead. How else could it be?]
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[ There were some pesky feelings there, Mista not sure how he would be able to dodge talking about this one. Hmmm.
Weirdly that made him just tighten his arm around the older man, closing his syes and just resting his head against him. ]
...hey, I saw this really cool toilet paper holder the other day, I should've gotten it for you. It'd probably fit right in here.
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H-huh? No? The holder, the holder! It was a skeleton, that's why I thought it was cool. It looked like something you'd buy, that's all!
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You get a picture of it?
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Yeah, man, I just forgot to send it to you!
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[HE NEEDS IT??]
Nice. I'll have to hunt it down.
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Nah, if I have enough left over after I get what I need I'll get it for you.
[ Friends. Good friends. ]
It's the least I can do since you've been willing to help us out so much.
[ There was a loose gesture toward wherever the pistols had ended up, a resounding cheer from them as if they had been prompted for it. ]
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When I wipe my ass, I'll think of you.
[He's joking. That will definitely not happen.]
Anyway, no big deal. You have more mouths to feed than most of us have to worry about. Even if Moody Blues ate, that's nothing in comparison to the Pistols.
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Yeah, yeah, I'd rather you didn't. The last thing I want is for you to start associating me with taking a shit.
[ He'd already said thank you enough, it might have made things awkward if he kept singing his praises the way he had been. Ultimately, this was warm and he didn't mind the contact. It was practice or something, he needed it since some of his other hugs had been equally weird.
Instead of saying anything else, he just brought his other arm up around to pull in a little more. More contact, more chroma and weirdly comforting. You know, aside from the fact that he was really in a position to notice how stacked Abbacchio was. ]
Dude, have you always been this ripped?
[ Way to keep things neutral. ]
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