risorto | {ic inbox}

[Tonight, he'll realize it started here. The lack of elaboration, the carefully neutral tone-- he doesn't recognize it yet, but he will. This is where it all started to go wrong.

For now, Polnareff simply glances over, smile wide and friendly. This is a good day.]

Yeah, but Fugo's not here now, is he? Besides, he'd fuss about measurements-- so no, it's gotta be you.

[Bruno shoves his hands in his pockets, keeping his gaze ahead.]

He thinks if the two of you cooked together, you'd refuse to do any measuring just to try and prove him wrong.

[There's something . . . off. He isn't getting the smiles he usually gets. It isn't as if Bruno smiles often, but he does for Polnareff.]

He's probably right.

[How could anyone resist doing something like that? But something about this conversation feels a little odd, and so he adds:]

Is that a yes from you, then? Not today, obviously-- we've got to sail today-- but sometime soon?

[Bruno glances over at Polnareff.]

You'll have to run out of them first.

[He follows that with a weak and brief smile he doesn't quite feel.]

[He's not good at reading people-- or at least, not like Bruno is. He can't look at someone and read them like a book. But he knows some things, and he likes to think he's learned enough about Bruno's smiles to see that one isn't that real.

Which means something's wrong. Something's changed within the past few minutes. He'd been fine before; he'd been breathless with laughter before, so what--?]

You say that like I couldn't finish them off by the end of the afternoon.

[It's a joke, but it's said quietly. Polnareff's smile fades a little, and he leans over, keeping their eyes locked.]

You all right?

[Maybe it was something he'd said. They all have dark memories, and the slightest things can trigger them. Jotaro doesn't like the dark; Kakyoin doesn't like clocks. Maybe he'd said something stupid by accident.]

[Bruno is good at masking a lot, but there are some things not even he can keep buried from the surface. Not when he's so quickly and firmly establishing a necessary distance that he somewhat hates himself for because he wouldn't have to do this in the first place if he had been more careful.]

Mm? [he hums softly, as though he doesn't know all the while maintaining eye contact with Polnareff, smiling again.] I'm fine. You just caught me before I had my first coffee.

[He waves his hand a little, dismissively.]

I'll wake up better in a while.

[Well, that's all right, then. He's not quite so dependant on the stuff, but he's had days like that. Satisfied, Polnareff threads his fingers together behind his head, leaning back into them as they walk towards the beach.

It's a pleasant journey, albeit a bit quieter than they'd been before. Bruno doesn't offer much, though he's not impolite-- just quiet, giving scraps of answers to Polnareff's incessant questions. Eventually, he gives up on getting something from Bruno and shifts entirely into storymode-- yammering on about Stands he and Jotaro and Kakyoin fought, or cafes they visited, or some meal he ate once in Germany.

By the time they get to the beach, it's nearly noon. It's almost unbearably hot, but that just makes the allure of the ocean all the stronger. Polnareff's outright beaming as he sets the backpack down a few meters away from the shore, nearly vibrating in his excitement.]

They're gonna be so jealous-- I'm definitely taking pictures, I brought my watch just for that.

[Polnareff is teetering into giddy excitement and it's not that Bruno appears to be unhappy — far from it because for once, one of his smiles is a little more genuine — but he does seem perhaps a little reluctant to engage with that much excitement. Which may or may not be all that unusual because Bruno's excitement usually is understated relative to most people, let alone compared to Polnareff.]

They? Or just Jotaro?

[Bruno summons Sticky Fingers, who opens up the backpack again and begins pulling out the pieces.]

I mean, they all should be jealous, but probably Jotaro most of all. I'll bring him back a shell or something, though. A starfish. A shark. Whatever.

[He can't do anything for Bruno right now, and so Polnareff wanders over to shore. Kicking his boots off, he heads into the ocean, shivering as the cold water laps his feet.]

Kakyoin'll be secretly jealous. But I'll take him out, so it'll work out.

[Sticky Fingers seals the backpack back up and Bruno steps over closer to the pieces. He crouches down and begins arranging the pieces back together, propping them up until Sticky Fingers can seal them again. He only glances over at Polnareff over at his shoulder once, using putting the boat together as an excuse to keep his back turned.]

I have a hard time imagining Kakyoin agreeing to that.

He might! I mean, I'm not saying he's gonna lay out on the deck and sunbathe, but he might come. Definitely my chances increase if Jotaro's there, though.

[The ocean is nice, but Bruno is nicer. Polnareff wanders over, leaning over Bruno and peering at Sticky Fingers. They're touching a little, legs against Bruno's side. He's gotten used to these kinds of little touches; they barely register anymore.]

I should've brought a bottle of champagne. Or wine. But maybe we can throw a water bottle at it, that'll probably count, even if it doesn't shatter.

[Bruno only looks at Polnareff out of the corner of his eye when he comes over and only once he feels Polnareff's leg against his side. Otherwise it's eyes focused on what he's doing. Sticky Fingers is quickly to pull zippers closed, sometimes letting them fall out of his hand and go the rest of the way before they simply disappear out of existence as though they never were. Slowly, the boat is coming back together just as it was.]

I wouldn't let you waste a bottle of wine like that...

[When it's time to essentially move down the line, Bruno moves away from Polnareff with a small sidestep before he stands back upright. At least for a brief second. He has to then lean over to the other side to straighten a piece out and hold it before Sticky Fingers can zip it together again.]

Well, there you go. Works out.

[He's gone from being utterly repulsed by Sticky Fingers to fascinated, all in two months. It helps that the Stand is working on something nonliving, of course; it's all quite easier to take when it's not somebody's arm that's falling off. But it's fascinating, right, to see an entire boat be pieced together seamlessly, looking just as perfect as it had in their backyard.

It's a little two-man craft, but it's theirs, and it's seaworthy. Or at least, he hopes it'll be; he's still half-convinced they might sink. But whatever! They're going to try! Excelsior, onwards and upwards!]

You wanna be the one doing the pushing or you want to be the one sitting cozy while I push you out?

[Bruno continues moving down the rest of the length of the boat, letting Sticky Fingers put the last couple of pieces together. He steps over to the backpack, picking it up and setting it inside.]

I'm fine with pushing.

Suit yourself, skinny.

[There's something absent in Bruno's voice. It's not as if he's excessively loud in his warmth, but nor is it ever really absent from his voice. At least, not when he talks to Polnareff. There's always an undercurrent of fondness there, just as there is when he talks about Fugo or Giorno. It means friendship. It means I like you.

They've spoken on mornings before. This isn't just tiredness. And yet it's not yet enough for Polnareff to say anything out loud. There's just a worry in his chest, that's all; a breathless moment of uncertainty before he shoves it away.

He grabs his backpack and helps Bruno push the boat over to the shore. A moment of hesitation-- and then he slips onto the boat, feet dangling, watching Bruno a little uncertainly.]

[Bruno says nothing to the skinny comment, dismissing Sticky Fingers. He simply toes off his shoes, dropping them inside the boat while Polnareff is settling into it. Once he is settled, Bruno starts pushing. He gets a little help from Sticky Fingers initially, though his Stand never visibly manifests. It's enough momentum that once the boat's in just deep enough that it's able to glide more or less on its own. It's clearly a practiced motion and more muscle memory than anything else that Bruno then hops into the boat himself. He gives it a few seconds.]

[He looks over at Polnareff.]

You said to wait until she's on the water to ask. She isn't sinking, so... [He tips his head a little.] How does it feel?

[Polnareff huffs a laugh and glances over, his smile softer than his usual grins.]

Perfect.

[She is, too. Their little boat glides steadily out on the water, pushed along by the waves and momentum. She's dry; the boards hold fast against the water. She's perfect, and he starts grinning, because this is his. They built this, and it's not sinking, and god, but he's proud.

He reaches over, punching Bruno affectionately in the arm.]

We built a boat! A perfect boat-- we're amazing, you know that?

[Bruno smiles only a little and his gaze darts away because it feels a little unfair to smile like that right now, but this time it is genuine at least.]

Think you'll start building more now that you're done with this one?

[There's been a lot of individualistic talk on this trip. Your boat; think you'll start building more. It's a bad sign, and now that worry is starting to grow.]

Not alone.

[It's a little direct, but so is he.]

[Bruno hums in acknowledgement and seems to be leaving it at that at first as his smile fades back into something more neutral.]

It would go faster.

[All right. That's not an outright rejection. He can work with that.]

Not to mention I'd have someone to talk to. And laugh at my jokes, which is rarer than you'd think.

[Bruno turns a little to dip his fingers into the ocean water. It feels cold. Not cold enough to hurt, but still a sharp contrast to the air above water. He wiggles his fingers slowly in the water.]

I think you're biased from how much time you spend around Kakyoin.

[In contrast, Polnareff tugs a knee up to his chest. The other leg stays in the water, trailing there idly. He rests his chin on his knee, watching Bruno carefully.]

Nah. Jotaro grins, and Giorno sighs, and Fugo-- actually, no, he laughs too. But you really appreciate them.

[They're veering into uncertain territory now, and his breath is coming a little shorter. This is stupid to do on a boat, maybe, but he's not about to veer off the subject.]

You're the one I like telling them to.

[Bruno's fingers still in the water because a jolt runs through him, but it's not a pleasant thing in the least.]

Polnareff, don't— [He cuts himself off because he'd never meant to be so abrupt, but impulse took over. Bruno knows that he's smarter than that. Able to be far more gentle and kind than that even when having to do something like this. But he can't take it back, so he doesn't bother trying. He only firmly follows up with,] Wherever you're intending for this conversation to go. Whatever you mean to say. Don't.

[That's that, then.

What had he said to Jotaro? Here we are, he'd typed, and I have been rejected before. He'd been so careless about it, certain in the knowledge he wouldn't be rejected, smug in the assurances of Giorno and Jotaro's teasing, absolutely sure that this would end in--

God, but he's an idiot. Because here they are, right, and he's Polnareff once again. God, no wonder Bruno had suddenly gone quiet. He'd been staring at him like a fool; of course he'd taken a few mental steps back.

His ears have gone red. He presses his lips tightly together, biting back the hurt few words that want to escape. He's already humiliated himself enough over the past few minutes; he's not about to do it further.]

All right.

[Fine. This is fine. Heartache fades; he's gotten over feelings like this before. God, but he'd gone and told everyone, he'd been so fucking excited and now they're all going to look at him expectantly, they're all going to have the same damn reaction--]

But that doesn't mean you're getting out of building a second boat with me.

[It's not a joke, really. It's a vaguely said thing as he stares out at the horizon, and what it truly means is: are we still friends?]

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