“Relax,” said Giorno, in a voice like silk.

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one on all fours with a finger up his ass. “Sorry,” Mista mumbled, and tried to let the tension melt from his muscles. If Giorno could take it, he could, too.

“Don’t be,” Giorno replied, “I just want you to enjoy this.” Mista tried to focus on his breathing and not the finger that was slowly sliding in and out of him in a way that felt… remarkably like a finger up his ass. Exactly like he would have imagined it. “I’m going to put another one in- relax.” He gritted his teeth at the brief ache of the second finger entering him, then nearly jumped as Giorno curled both of them forwards. “Good?”

“Nnh,” he said. It was a feeling at right angles to arousal, in the same neighborhood but in a different direction. Strangely similar to the comparison between pain and the sensation of being healed by Gold Experience. “Yeah, but… it’s a lot. At once.” More than he knew how to deal with, at this moment. It was something he’d rather ease into.

“That’s fine,” Giorno purred, straightening out his fingers. “You’re doing really well.” In and out, it actually wasn’t so bad, kind of nice, almost. He found himself able to relax into it a little. “You ready for a third?

“Yeah.”

At this point, the burning ache increased, and he felt full, almost ready for it to be over, but the feeling of Giorno’s fingers inside him crossed some sort of threshold and his thighs were widening almost involuntarily, he was ready for more. And Giorno was speaking softly, but in the Boss Voice, smooth but domineering: “God, you’ve got a gorgeous ass. I’ve been aching to get in there. You feel so good around my hand right now, I can’t wait to get my cock in.” Giorno’s fingers sliding in and out, his voice so soothing and hypnotic, Mista would do anything for him, follow him into hell-

“Do it,” he let slip, his mouth ready before the rest of him.

“You sure?”

“Nnh, yeah, put it in.” It was like he was itching for it, he had to have more, get Giorno’s hard dick up inside and- “fuck.” God, he was- he knew that, rationally, Giorno was pretty average sized, nothing shocking in the cock department, but he suddenly felt <i>huge</i> inside him. And he was barely even in, was still opening him up centimeter by centimeter, breathing heavily, palms on Mista’s thighs and his fingertips digging in a little. Pressing up against him from the inside in a way that felt almost unreal while he worked himself in deeper. A few more little pushes and he was in all the way, a guttural groan tumbling out from the back of his throat.

Mista took in the small details of the scene. Giorno’s heavy, eager breaths. The softness of the sheets on his palms and knees. The way the walls faded into the darkness.  Giorno’s hands on his thighs, squeezing rhythmically with a restrained eagerness. The uncanny weight of Giorno inside him. Giorno’s gentle, but with an impatient excitement. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah.” He tried to hold himself steady as Giorno pulled out just a fraction and smoothly pushed in again with another small groan.

“God, you feel good,” and even though this was all too unfamiliar to be arousing, too strange for him to be even minimally hard in response, he felt a warmth at his core that was not unlike lust, a feeling of satisfaction that carried him as Giorno’s shallow thrusts deepened, as the moans he made grew more urgent, sounding closer to pain than pleasure. It was his first time seeing - well, hearing, rather, or <i>feeling</i> - Giorno so worked up when he himself wasn’t soaking in arousal, and there was something almost intimidating about it. As with everything he did, he seemed to take up more space than his body possibly could.

A series of quick thrusts, then a few long, full ones and a moan like a choked sob. And then Giorno was gasping his breath back into a normal rhythm, running his hands along Mista’s sides like he couldn’t believe Mista was there. Pulling out carefully and leaving Mista feeling suddenly empty, crashing back against the pillows and grinning lazily while Mista let himself collapse and turn clumsily on his side to face his boss and lover. Still the same Giorno as ever, hair like a sunbeam, creamy skin and sharp cheekbones and a narrow chest, but looking more masculine than he ever had. In control. In <i>charge</i>. But then he’d always been in charge, hadn’t he, even when he was that scrawny little kid with his voice still cracking, exploding into their lives and changing the path of the future. Changing Mista’s world most of all.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked now, casually, totally unaware of what a powerful force he was. Idly scratching the inside of his thigh, lounging there with an air of satisfaction.

“Weird,” Mista admitted. His nerves were still trying to realign themselves, he felt both tired and agitated. “That was… weird.”

Giorno laughed. “It does take some getting used to.” He turned to rest on one elbow, knuckles propped against his chin. “But you did a great job.” Mista inhaled a short, sharp breath, feeling the pride wash through him. “You’re so good to me.”

“Oh,” he sighed, and was somewhat surprised to find that his cock was stiffening between his legs, prominent in his state of undress.

“<i>Oh</i>,” Giorno echoed, with more than a hint of amusement. “Do you <i>like</i> being praised?”

He’d never thought about it that way before, but, “Yeah, a little.” Giorno leaned over and stroked his growing erection and he sighed again, pressing up into his hand.

“This doesn’t seem very ‘little’ to me.” With a grin, he closed his fist around the shaft, squeezing and rubbing and pulling Mista to full attention. “You’re so big and hard, and you take my cock so well.” Mista couldn’t stop himself from whimpering, wriggling his hips with excitement. “Let me take care of you for a little while.” He leaned over and took Mista’s cock into his hot, wet mouth, and Mista let himself float away on a tide of bliss.