BLOOD LUST - Giorno x Mista -

Ravage

"...sta?"

"...ista?"

"Mista!"

The worried screaming tore Mista from the deepest sleep he ever had. He felt like he had slept forever, yet not at all. He opened his heavy eyes to see Giorno, who was crying. Sobbing.
He was hysterical. Gripping Mista hard but the shoulders and shaking him.
His face was stained red.
Mista lay on the once pink blanket, which was now stiff and red from the blood which had seeped into the threads. He smiled weakly up at Giorno, he looked much better. Less sick.
His mental image of Giorno covered in blood was much more erotic in person, in addition to it being Mistas' blood.
Mista couldn't move much, he wanted to sit up and hug his boyfriend, but his body had lost all it's energy. He felt as if he lost ten pounds during his sleep, as if he died and was reanimated.
"I feel like shit"
Was all he was able to muster from his dry throat. His weak smile and snarky remark made Giorno smile. He looked as if he had been crying for a while.
"Im so glad you're okay, I-"
Giorno couldn't seem to bare talking anymore, Mista relished in the slight warmth that was giorno as his beloved encased him in a tight hug.
Mista recoiled slightly at the horrendous smell of blood, but the small tinge of lemons from the clean strands of Giornos hair made the metallic poison worth it.
Suddenly he was hoisted upwards from the bed, swept into the arms of his boyfriend who was cradling him deeply. Like a mother who lost her child and feared the worst, only to be reunited.
The gesture of love was a breath of fresh air from the nightmares Mista had experienced in his slumber.
Mista was as surprised as ever by Giornos strength, he held so much more than he seemed to.
"I'm going to take you down to the showers, I'm cleaning this disgusting mess off you right now"
Giornos tone was very much so that of a mother's tone. Mista felt as if he was being scolded, but he knew in reality, Giorno was scolding himself.

The walk to the showers was nerve-wracking. It was late in the night, no one was expected to be about, however the stance and walk of Giorno gave off a terrifying vibe. As if he would tear off the head of anyone spying. At this moment Mista noticed a similarity between Giorno and his father, the walk was almost identical. He walked with his shoulders back, head high and took long strides. But walked slowly. It was incredibly intimidating however Mista had never noticed it before.
Like father like Son, he supposed.
The showers were warm, with pale blue tiling it calmed Mista of his previously nervous demeanor. Giorno had left Mista in one of the stalls as he went about locking the door. Mista took the time to think over what had happened, he doesn't remember much but pain. The agony. He slowly stood, using the tiled shower wall as support as he made his way, slowly, towards the mirror.
He held back a gasp, he had never expected the puncture wounds to be so brutal. They looked as if his skin was put through a shredder then reattached.
No, it looked as if two shots were fired through his neck from the inside.
It looked like two exit wounds.
The blood was still oozing from the holes. It didn't hurt too much to touch, Mista wondered if the nerves were damaged. He silently hoped so. He caught glimpse of Giorno approach him from behind and wrap his arms around about Mistas waist. Burying his face in the undamaged crook of Mistas' neck.
"I apologise for these, I tried to keep it as... Well I tried to be neat about it"
Giorno spoke very softly, his fingers gently danced about the incident of injury. Staring at the mess through the mirror before gently patting Mistas' back, a signal for shower time.
Mista was more than excited to shower, to rid of the fluid that had stiffened his skin. He stripped himself of his trousers, but remained in his underwear. He was in no mood to engage in such sinful activities whilst he was bleeding out slowly but surely.
Giorno stood, also in his boxers only, he was holding his hands out under the running shower, presumably to check the temperature.
Mista hadn't noticed the scars before that seemed to be all over him. Giorno didn't seem to be the fighting type, he decided to leave it be. For now.
Mista watched as Giorno promptly undid his braid, discarding of the now stiff hair tie. His once godly blond hair was now a shade of almost ginger, the blood had stained it though. Mista hoped it wouldn't stay that way.
"You're going to collapse if you stay standing"
Giorno spoke with a laugh in his tone, the depression in his eyes was still obvious, dulling those eyes.
"Psh nah"
Mista attempted to reassure giorno, truth being he couldn't feel his legs in the slightest, collapse was a very real threat. That would hurt.

The shower was hot, very hot. The heat threatened the burn Mistas' skin, but alas he stood with his face upright, eyes closed, relishing in the heat. Giorno was behind him, gently wiping his back clean of the blood which was turning the bathroom floor deep red. Mista took the moments of relief to think again, wishing he could remember what happened exactly.
Did he die? Mista knows that Giornos father is a Doctor, he could revive him, right? How much blood did he loose? He should buy a Monster Energy after this.
He sighed heavily, dropping his head, the water now cascading down his injured body. The hot water providing a warmth his lover couldn't provide.
The water invaded his wounds, rudely and unannounced. The pain was irritating, and stung, but it wasn't enough to make Mista move.  He felt detached from everything around him. He had helped Giorno in the best and only way he could, but he felt so horrified and disgusted. He saw terrifying images behind his eyelids, images of blood, of teeth, and of the devil. A winged beast. He shook his head, erasing the thoughts from his mind, not sure where they came from but wanting to desperately rid of them.

He turned to Giorno who looked like what Mista felt. He was crying, it was heartbreaking. Mista pulled Giornos into his arms, holding him tightly as they both cried under the cascade of hot water. Washing away their regret with the blood that reminded them.

Reminded them of seperate horrors.