【jojo five parts】【velvet rice】Deliberately Shortsighted

Strangely, Star continued to recall, the pain in his buttocks became less unbearable when he concentrated on his thoughts. Bear it down.Although the burning sensation and pain still existed, he still twisted and trembled reflexively, but he no longer felt that the punishment was long and tormented, and he no longer struggled with whether to persist or yell out the safe word.As the pain washed all the jumbled thoughts out of his head, he did see more easily the problems he had been ignoring.

"I almost hit that bastard—ah!"

The wooden racket waved mercilessly. "Pay attention to the language," Giorno said.

"I'm sorry sir—I mean, I almost hit him," Mista said, squeezing her eyes shut, fighting back tears. "I was provoked, I couldn't control my temper, I almost lost control."

"continue."

"I know I should leave it to you, but I was... so angry."

Although his temper is not as hot as Fugo's - it is probably difficult for normal people to reach Fugo's height, but Mista is definitely not the type who can sit still after being insulted.He breathed a sigh of relief and continued: "I never thought about handing it over to you, I thought..." Swallowing with difficulty, he admitted in a low voice: "I don't think I can trust you yet."

"Why not." Giorno's beat remained the same, but Mista could tell from his voice that the man was really angry. "Mista, I said I would look after your back, and I will. If you don't give me a chance and refuse to see my efforts, then you will naturally find it difficult to trust me, and you are misleading yourself .Mista, you open your eyes but refuse to look. It’s like dancing pas de deux, I take my own steps, but if you don’t move, it’s useless.”

Mista closed her eyes, realizing that Giorno was right. "I'm sorry, sir," he whispered. "After that, I will work hard."

The beat in Giorno's hand continued. "It's not over yet. Continue."

Mista let out an "ah", half because of pain, half because of surprise.He thought he was done.

"You didn't want to trust me - it was just a mistake," Giorno said. "And something else."

Mista froze.He thought over what happened again carefully, not knowing what else to confess.He murmured, not knowing how to speak. "I can't think of any, sir?"

Giorno responded with a slap on the base of the thigh that made him scream. "You're stingy with your own trust, but you're dismissive with mine, aren't you?" the man asked. "I thought you were going to be fine, I believed in you, and you disappointed me so much."

Giorno's words were like a slap in the face, which hurt more than anything else.For a moment, guilt swept over Mista.Giorno said his expectation and trust, but Mista never took it seriously.Not only did he not perform as well as the other party explained, but he even involved the other party in a fight. Even if Giorno was the victor, this still couldn't change the essence of the fight: someone would get hurt, but this It wasn't Giorno once, so what about next time?What about next time?As long as Mista gets into trouble, Giorno can't get away either.

This realization made Mista's heart tighten suddenly.He always likes to act alone, even if he goes on a mission with the people in the group, the personnel allocation is always Fugo and Nalanja together, Apache and Trixie together for support, or Apache and Bugarati together, especially Rixiu stayed behind.He was always the one who left alone.But he didn't mind at all, he took good care of himself.Mista, acting alone, can still complete the task well, or even better.But this time it was different, he had a partner in a mission of unpredictable length.The team, he knew that, and the backup, he knew; but the word "partner" was still unfamiliar.That means that there is no "own business" between two people, the influence is mutual, and all things, all actions and consequences are shared by them.It was no longer just himself that he had to think about.

Mista was suddenly aware of this responsibility.This caused a huge shock in his heart.Giorno must have realized this before him. The man made up his mind and chose to put his safety in the hands of Mista.But Mista didn't bother to hold it at all.

This is so unreasonable.Mista's heart pounded against his breastbone, and the intensity of the emotion left him breathless.How can a person just give himself up to someone else?But isn't Mista lying on Giorno's lap now, letting Giorno control him?But Mista knew that Giorno's decision carried much more weight.

And he let him down.

"I didn't think about you." Mista finally spoke, not realizing how hoarse his voice was. "I only think about myself. When I'm on my knees looking around, and when I want to hit someone—never," he took a deep breath, "never think about your situation. I never realized before You are also my responsibility. If I had thought for a second of what my actions would do to you, I would not. I apologize to you and hope you will forgive me, sir."

Giorno stopped.Mista didn't look back, but he seemed to feel the man's gaze.

"Apology accepted." Giorno's voice softened a little, which gradually relaxed Mista's tense heart.

"But," Giorno said, and landed another beat steadily, and Mista yelled "Oh". "Don't think this is the end. Thirty strokes, do what you say." He added the last few strokes on his left and right buttocks.Mista writhed and cried out in pain.He felt like his ass could fry an egg.

Giorno gave him a buffer for a while.Mista lay on the opponent's knee and took a deep breath. The leather under his body was already warmed by him. Giorno's hands were massaging the tense muscles on his back intentionally or unintentionally. If he ignored the pain in the back, he would say That's really good.

"So...?" Mista asked slightly expectantly.He really hoped he wouldn't get boarded again.

"You have to learn not to have wrong expectations." Giorno slapped him mercilessly, right on his battered ass.Mista almost bit his own tongue.

Giorno picked up the slightly small leather racket and explained to Mista: "Generally speaking, the pain caused by leather rackets is not as strong as that caused by wood and silicone, because they use elastic soft cores and have leather. The package is also relatively comfortable. But this one is different, the inner core is very hard and has some weight, if used properly, it will cause very strong pain.”

Mista tensed again.

"Ten skin pats," Giorno continued. "This time, don't think about anything—although I don't think you might be able to think about anything, it drives any thoughts out of your head—I want you to feel this with your full attention. This will only Pain, only punishment, you have to feel it, remember it, you won't make the same mistake next time. Every time I hit you, you have to count it. I have to make sure you know every punishment clearly. Are you clear? "

Mista took a deep breath. "Understood, sir."

Despite trying his best to relax, Mista screamed at the first hit.The slightly longer handle obviously gives the racket more energy, and the narrow striking area also makes the power more focused.Mista didn't feel any leathery touch at all, and didn't even know what hit him, but felt something pumped heavily on his buttocks, and the burning sensation covered the original dull pain.Tears welled up, he struggled in vain, his wrists were firmly pressed down by Giorno.

"Report the number." Giorno snapped.

"One...one!" Mista shouted hoarsely.

Then the second, and the third.Mista gritted his teeth and squeezed out the numbers intermittently, his vision was blurred, and it was hard to tell whether it was sweat or tears on his face.

On the fourth hit, Giorno slapped down with the edge of the racket, and Mista flicked upwards, almost flipping off Giorno's knee.It felt like a whip, leaving a sharp burn.Mista suspected that the skin there was broken.All he did was to bury his head tightly in the sofa and report the numbers while choking on his sobs.

"You did a good job." Giorno slapped his left and right buttocks twice with the edge of the leather slap, and then patted Mista's back soothingly, waiting for him to calm down.

"The last three," he told Mista, "but I know you can take more, so these three I'll use the handle of the racket, which hurts more—almost as painful as the cane. But can you You can take it. Mista, you are stronger than you think."

Mista couldn't speak, and there were only one or two whimper-like humming sounds in his throat.But he nodded.Come on, he thought.

Giorno didn't lie.Even though the handle was a bit worse than the real cane—it was thicker, and it wasn't really designed for this kind of use—the pain overwhelmed it.Mista didn't even know how he screamed out the last three numbers.He only knew that at the end, his face was buried in the sofa, his voice was hoarse, he was dripping with sweat, his heart was beating fast, but his brain was still unable to recover. Feeling weak, he lay on Giorno's knee for a long time and did not move away.

"Well done, Mista, you persevered," Giorno's voice sounded a little proud, not sure if it was an illusion.

Mista vaguely remembered what he should have said. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, only to realize that his throat was hurting badly.

"Remember the lesson, don't do it again next time." Although his tone was harsh, Giorno touched Mista's head, his fingers running through the sweat-drenched short hair very gently.If someone dares to treat him like this at ordinary times, Mista will definitely make the other party overwhelmed, because this action usually shows: 1. The other party is showing off his height, 2. The other party treats him as a child; There were sufficient reasons for Mista to snap the opponent's fingers onto the back of his hand.But now Mista doesn't want to move at all.Because that feels... good.

Everything after that was still a bit vague to him.He remembered that Giorno brought him water, and heard the other party turn on the headset and whisper to Trish.The blond man also smeared a thick layer of gel on his poor ass, and the cool gel was quickly warmed by the hot skin.He also felt Giorno helping him slowly massage the tense and sore muscles, which made him moan.

After tidying up, Mista followed Giorno out, he walked a little crookedly, gasping for air from time to time due to friction.Everyone in the club seemed to be accustomed to this, and several people cast interested glances at them. Before going out, there was a small man who smiled flatteringly at Giorno, as if he was very interested in him.But Giorno just smiled back politely, and then left with Mista.

The cold wind of the night woke Mista awake.He suddenly realized that nothing was achieved today.Well, not exactly for nothing, if you have to count a hot, swollen butt.

"Giorno, we don't have anything—" He lowered his voice and hurriedly said close to Giorno's ear, "I mean, is this the end of today?"

Giorno turned his head, and the lights on the street shattered into those green eyes. He leaned closer and kissed Mista's sweaty forehead.It was so unexpected, yet so logical at the same time.Mista decided to think about what was going on tomorrow, and now he didn't feel comfortable making any judgments.

"Enough is enough for today, you need a good rest," Giorno replied in a low voice, the man's voice sounded almost as gentle as that kiss. "Besides, we are just here to explore the way this time, don't worry, there will be a way."

Mista nodded.He is learning to trust him.This is a small improvement.Giorno must have noticed, because the man immediately smiled, his eyes sparkling.

****

For obvious reasons, Giorno drove the car while Mista hunkered down in the backseat.This scene seems familiar.

"So you really didn't come to make my life inconvenient?" Mista changed her position, trying to lie down more comfortably, but accidentally bumped her buttocks against the back of the seat, grinning in pain. "Last time it was the back, this time it's the butt. How much do you hate me for sleeping on my back?"

"Although it makes me sound like a bastard shirking responsibility, Mista," Giorno pointed out briskly, seemingly in a good mood. "You asked for this."

"I understand this time, but last time? I don't remember the last time we were in an 'I'm not good daddy is going to hit me' relationship."

"I did it to help you last time, but now I think you don't seem to appreciate it."

"Hey, did some people think they could receive a thank you letter?" Mista sarcastically said.

"Or a little card with 'Thank you ;)' in a lovely bouquet of flowers and nothing," Giorno sighed. "Some people are sad."

"What a coincidence, I remember the same person saying, 'Don't have false expectations,'" Mista snorted.

"But you don't know if it's wrong, do you?" Giorno glanced at him from the rearview mirror, the corners of his mouth raised. "Perhaps not?"

"Maybe. You don't know."

"It's fair," Giorno murmured, still smiling. "But I'm always the lucky one."

"Oh," Mista grinned on the seat, "I have objections to this point. I suggest we wait and see who is really lucky." He remembered how many times he had The experience of being shot at close range and somehow coming out unscathed, the bullets avoiding him as if they had eyes.See, that's how Lady Luck likes him.Mista is determined to win.

"Okay. But to be honest, this doesn't look like a lucky guy's posture." Giorno gave a pointed glance as he spoke.

Little bastard, Mista scolded in his heart.But he is not angry.

"So, now I can talk to you like this again?" After a while, he asked Giorno again.His voice was still lazy and a little confused. "...You know, it's kind of weird. Jumping in and jumping out."

"If you really want to keep calling me 'sir', I can reluctantly cooperate," Giorno shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like this, it's just that it's a bit of a hassle to explain to Trish and Bucciarati."

"I didn't say I wanted to!" Mista glared angrily at Giorno in the rearview mirror. "Could you please stop doing that?"

"How did I do it?"

"Pretend like you don't understand me," Mista snorted. "I know how good you are at observing words and expressions." Because even Trish was coaxed by the blond boy to make him look good. You know, this girl didn't give Mista and the others any good looks in the first month of her employment.

"Apparently I'm out of order sometimes," Giorno replied half-truthfully.

"Then what's the reason why I happen to run into each other?"

"It's just because you spend the longest time with me compared to others. It's a matter of probability."

"Probability, tsk tsk," Mista pouted. "You and Fugo must have a lot in common. The two of you can go to tutor Naranja in mathematics together."

"your colleague?"

"And the best partner." Mista couldn't help grinning when he thought of the group members. "One is very grumpy, one is even more grumpy, beats more, a kid who makes a lot of noise, and Bucciarati - God bless Bucciarati, I think we're going to have him worrying to death .In short, they are a bunch of tough and reliable bastards."

Giorno listened to him introducing his companions with a bit of unconscious pride. "They mean a lot to you."

"They are family," Mista nodded, "There is nothing more important than family."

"Italian boy," Giorno mumbled amusedly.

"Say it like you're not." Mista paused, and withdrew his smile: "Don't let them know, Giorno, not even Trish. Let's agree: How can you treat me during the mission? , because that is a mission, but not later. If you dare to let others know about us, you will die."

"What's the matter between us? What's the matter?" Giorno asked slowly.

"...If you keep fucking pretending you don't understand, I'll shoot your head off and stuff it in the trash can, I swear." Mista stared at the other party viciously.Is this interesting?

The corners of Giorno's mouth curled up to say: Yes, it's interesting.

Mista raised his foot and kicked Giorno's chair back, but because he pulled a certain part, he screamed in pain.

"Mista, you really should stop making so many wrong decisions," the blond man sighed like a taunt.

"To shut up!"

So Giorno drove the car quietly. "I'm not pretending not to understand," he said after a while, sounding hesitant. "...I was just distracted."

Alarm bells were going off in Mista's head.Do not ask!the voice warned.He trusted intuition more than logical thinking, so he pretended not to understand.Ouch, isn't that a bit ironic?

He cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Then, those things in the club that have nothing to do with the mission—"

"—just stay in the club," Giorno continued naturally, as if they had been talking about it all the time, "but the premise is that you have to make sure you don't reveal your secrets when you are there. Otherwise, we have to continue the relationship Get outside until you get the reflex."

Mista flinched. "Okay. Then as I said, no one knows what we do in there, not Trish, nor Bugarati."

Giorno nodded in assurance. "Just you and me."

****

Giorno parked the car downstairs at Mista's house, rejected Mista's idea of ​​going upstairs alone ("Since the inconvenience of life is caused by me," the man said), he insisted on sending him home——exactly Said, delivered to the door.Giorno seemed to be waiting for Mista to speak first, and Mista was expecting Giorno to say goodbye.The two stood in the small living room and looked at each other.This is fucking embarrassing.

"Uh," Mista cleared his throat, "I guess I should buy you a beer or something, but it's getting late and I'm a bit tired. So, another day?"

"Okay," Giorno said.But the man didn't move.

Mista raised an eyebrow. "I thought I'd just euphemistically said 'you should fuck off'."

"I can't leave you here alone."

Mista froze for a moment, thinking he had heard wrong. "What do you mean?" He said angrily, "I was spanked, yes, but I won't have any bloody psychological trauma because of this! What do you think of me as a bitch who is crying and looking for comfort? ?”

It's one thing for two people to have a messy relationship - even if it involves sex, let alone if they don't - and quite another to stay the night.Staying overnight means waking up together, hugging and saying good morning, then going for a morning run together, eating breakfast together while reading the newspaper, complaining about burnt toast and the down and out ruling party, and starting the day together.That means one becomes a constant in another's life.Mista admits she was a little intimidated.

"I don't need you here," Mista folded his arms, "You should go back."

But Giorno shook his head and said firmly: "No, Mista. After experiencing more serious bdsm behavior, the sub's psychology will be unstable for a while. This is a normal phenomenon and has nothing to do with whether a person is strong or not. I can't just Go back to sleep like this, and don't know if you are okay. At least, let me stay tonight. "

Giorno put an accent on the last sentence.Mista can now tell when Giorno's subtext is "not negotiable".They stared at each other like they were in some stupid contest, and whoever blinked first lost.

"Okay, okay," Mista said, losing the battle first.He grunted and looked away.Because he was really tired and sleepy, there seemed to be an attractive magnetic field between the two eyelids. "You sleep on the sofa, there is no need to discuss it." He said to Giorno viciously.

"Okay," Giorno didn't care, and then added: "Don't get me wrong, Mista, I'm just staying for the night to make sure you're okay. I didn't want to do anything, and it won't change anything. "

Oh, this time your little tricks of looking at other people's faces have worked again?Mista thought angrily.

Then Giorno—the brat who said he "didn't want to do anything"—followed Mista into the bedroom.

"You. Sleep. Sofa. Hair." Mista grimly squeezed out words from between his teeth. "Which word in this did you not understand?"

"I understand," the little bastard shrugged, "I'll sleep on the sofa after you finish your medicine."

"What kind of medicine?"

"Your ass, you can't do the medicine yourself." Giorno said calmly, as if he just wanted to water the flowers.

Mista's face instantly burned. "No—no need, get out Giorno. Touch my fucking ass and I'll shoot you in the temple. Seriously."

Giorno didn't say a word, just reached out and patted Mista's ass.The force he used was very light, but Mista jumped up and almost hit the ceiling.

—Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration.But Mista's howl was no exaggeration.

He almost cried in pain. "Fuck!"

And Giorno tilted his head slightly, with a "look" expression on his face. "Go take a shower, don't use hot water," he even reminded kindly.

Mista glared at him viciously, and stomped to find the towel.The only thing stopping him from dismembering Giorno in the bathroom was the difficulty of cleaning it up.And he didn't think about how to explain to Bugarati why there were fewer people in the bar. After all, if the partner used it like this, it would be considered a consumable. As for consumables, he turned on the cold water and thought in a mess , Consumables have to be filled in the C-type mission item application form, but maybe Trish can help him out, he has always been concerned about those forms that look like a mother but the bureau accountant said you filled it out wrong Helpless, Class A is equipment and vehicles, Class B is special items, Class C is consumables, Class D is weapons-I don’t know which genius came up with the classification method, but Mista prayed to God to bless him, just because He used ABCD instead of 1234, otherwise Mista may only be a traffic policeman in his life (because that doesn't use guns).Come to think of it, ladies and gentlemen, "Class 4 Quest Item Request Form" sounds inauspicious, so he's going to put Giorno in the Class 4 request form—wait, Giorno is from Where did it come from?When did this bastard thing come to his mind?

Mista was thinking wildly, took a quick shower, still shivering from the cold when he came out, jumped on the bed and wrapped himself in the quilt, sighed comfortably.

"Get up," the voice continued as the mattress beside him sank a little, "take off your pants."

With a groan, Mista reluctantly complied, he just hoped this would end soon.He buried his face in the pillow, avoiding any awkward stares, and still flinched when the cool ointment on Giorno's fingers touched him.

"You know, that's the least sexy 'take your pants off' I've ever heard," his voice muffled in the pillow, sounding muffled, "When girls say that, I get hard already, but After you have done this, I have a psychological shadow on this sentence."

Giorno's soft laughter turned into tremors and spread to his fingertips, making Mista a little itchy. "You are very popular with girls, huh?" the man asked calmly, his gentle voice and low voice seemed to be telling a bedtime story. "I remember you saying that in the clothing store. So, Mista, you're sitting at the bar, does a girl call you? Or ask you to buy her a drink, and then you go home and lie down On the bed, you let her fingers swipe around on you, or, like this..."

His fingers slid down his back and began massaging those tired and tense muscles, which Mista didn't know was right, but it felt good.This feels right.The hazy drowsiness fell, and he let himself moan because of comfort and relaxation, and the difficulty in concentrating made him focus on one point at a time: "Maybe you didn't notice, what I said is very pleasing to 'girls' like."

Giorno hummed, he didn't seem to care what he said at all, he just focused on kneading those tangled muscles, letting them melt into a puddle of butter under his fingers.

"I'm also very popular with girls." After a while, Mista was about to fall asleep, and in the half-dream half-awake, Giorno seemed to mutter something in a low voice.That made him sound impossibly childish.Then Mista vaguely remembered that he had read Giorno's information, he was one year younger than Naranja.

little liar.Mista said lazily with her eyes closed.

"I never lie." Giorno's voice came vaguely as if separated by a curtain.Mista didn't know if he was dreaming or Giorno was really talking.He heard the man say, like changing clothes in a clothing store, I said you are "pretty good-looking", that is not a compliment, Mista, I really think you are pretty.

But Mista didn't think about it any more.He fell asleep.

***

At two o'clock in the morning, Mista went to the bathroom to relieve himself, and when he passed by the living room, he was almost scared to death by Giorno who was sleeping on the sofa.Seeing a figure on his sofa, he reflexively wanted to rush back to the room to get a gun. As soon as he took a step, he was stimulated by the swelling and pain on his rear hip, and then he woke up.

That's right, Mista remembered, he told Giorno to go sleep on the sofa, this was the first time this kid listened to him like that.Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, and seeing Giorno's uncomfortable appearance in his crumpled half-sized sofa, he even gloated a little. ——No, it's not revenge, it's definitely, definitely not intentional targeting because Giorno spanked his ass.This is what Giorno himself asked for, and Mista said to himself in his heart, look, he asked to stay, so he can only blame himself for the uncomfortable sleep.

In his sleep, Giorno turned over and moved unconsciously, his brows were always furrowed, as if he couldn't find a comfortable position, and when he rolled over and pressed against his back, his frowns became tighter.Mista suddenly remembered that during the toilet fight, Giorno's lower back was hit on the sink.

oh.he thinks.But fighting, how can there be no injury.And what does it matter to him?

He watched as the man moved, moved again, and rolled back after a while, his arms hanging out of the sofa.He walked over and kicked the arm.

"... Mista?" Giorno opened his eyes, and his voice was a little hoarse before he was fully awake.

"Get up, go to bed and sleep." Mista's own voice was not much better, and his throat was still sore.

Giorno blinked, seeming to wake up a little.Without saying anything, he followed Mista into the only bedroom.Mista was glad that the other party didn't ask anything, because he found that he couldn't explain it either.or anything.

Another good thing is that his bed is big enough.

The two got into the quilt, Mista lay on the pillow, closed his eyes and let out a long breath, waiting for the dream to come again.

"Pudding and octopus salad."

In the darkness, he heard a voice to his left.

"what?"

"The food I like," Giorno's voice in the darkness was tired and a little laughing, and it fell on Mista's pillow very lightly. "Are we quite acquainted this time?"

Mista froze for a moment, then remembered what he said to Giorno this morning—oh no, it was yesterday morning in that small hotel with tacky printed wallpaper and cheap air fresheners.That seemed like a long time ago.

He thought that Giorno must have read a lot of third-rate gay novels.He'd have to remember that, and he could have a good laugh at him afterwards.He grinned in the dark, unbelievably relaxed and warm around his heart.

No one wants to know, you little bastard, he muttered.

He heard another shoe drop.