It's a sweltering hot day in Italy that makes you feel like you'll melt into a puddle. But no matter what temperature, after all, any day is another gang activity day.

You're riding in the back of a van with Mista, sitting right in front of him, with Fugo as the driver and Giorno on the other front seat. The only complaint you have other than the heaylt is that Mista takes up a lot of space. He's totally relaxed and doesn't give a shit; slumped back, legs spread wide open. You can see a light sheen layer of sweat on his tummy as well...

The whole time, you're trying to avert your eyes from his body - especially his crotch - and not get a boner as much as possible.

"Maaan," Mista complains loud and obnoxious, munching on a cracker along with a few of his Sex Pistols. "I'm melting in here... How much further?"

"I told you to wear something cooler." Fugo states sternly.

"But everything else's in the washer!"

Giorno seems to let a small chuckle slip. Fugo, on the other hand, isn't so amused.

"Only a few more hours, so sit tight."

"Hours?! Where are we going...?"

"We already discussed it back at the restaurant."

"That was then, this is now!"

"Mista, as Fugo already told you..."

"I know, I know! But I was--"

"SHUT IT!"

Out of rage, Fugo shouts and momentarily loses control of the car's steering, making it swerve and bump harshly; Everyone is startled and needs to get a grip, but you fail to do so.

"Oh SHI--!"

Your body is thrown against Mista's direction, and you're unable to stop the fall at all; and so, before you know it, all you can feel is your face land someplace very warm and with a very distinct scent...

"... A... A-Anon...?"

Your face has landed right on Mista's crotch.

As soon as you inhale, your senses are assaulted by the scent you'd noticed.
It's not exactly disgusting, but to many it'd probably be gross; it's overly musky, strong, manly, so warm, so comforting... And most of all, it's so fucking intoxicating. You roll your eyes, then close them, and you can't help but let out a small muffled groan of absolute delight and hope nobody hears it.

God, you want to fucking drown in this stink. You want to taste it. You could have Mista sit on your face all day. Hell, maybe you'd even let him humiliate the shit out of you and piss on you.

Your dick is already throbbing in your pants.

"Shit, shit, shit, SHIT! Anon!" Unfortunately, Mista lifts you up by your shoulders. You stare off into nothingness, feeling extremely dizzy and lightheaded... And you have the mission to try and focus to hide your boner now.

"H-Hey... Fuuuck! GioGio! Anon's looking all weird and he's not answering! Anon, didja' hit your head?" Mista's rough hands are on your face now, checking for any sign. "Hey, can you hear me?!"

Finally, you snap back to reality.

You look around; Everybody is looking at you, save for Fugo, whose eyes are focused on the road.

You shake your head and assure Mista and Giorno you're lucid and fine.

"Geez...! Don't scare us like that..." Mista grins, ruffling your hair and petting your head. You notice he's blushing as well. Was it only from the awkward situation? Or could he have felt something other than that too...?

"I'm glad you're okay, Anon." Giorno smiles that little golden gentle smile of his, turning back to his seat.

"What he said! That was real awkward... But if you're fine, then all's fine."

"... Anon. I'm... Really sorry..." Fugo apologizes with a guilty tone. "I... lost control again... I'm so sorry."

Oh, Fugo.
If only he knew you would thank him if you could...