You love my Marlon Brando impressions. You love all my impressions.
[They're teasing one another, to be sure, but Polnareff isn't talking quite as loudly as he usually does. He wants to try and preserve this quiet moment, even as they talk in it.]
You wouldn't like me reading so much if you hated my impressions.
[But not right now, and Polnareff leans over, kissing the top of Bruno's head chastely.
He manages to stay quiet for a good while longer, which is admirable. It isn't until they're halfway through the movie, Victor leading the bar in a triumphant refrain of Les Marseillais, that Polnareff squirms again: shifting against Bruno, nosing against him a little more.]
My maman grew up right during all this. I mean, Papa too, but she was the one who talked about it more. I wish . . . I didn't understand it, back then. She'd talk about how Sher and I didn't realize what we had, how hard life used to be, stuff like that. How lucky I was that I could mouth off all the time and not get hurt.
[It's an idle fact, more trivia than anything. Maybe a film that centered in part around the French resistance movement wasn't the best idea for a man already homesick, but he's still glad he chose it.
That fact, too, makes him think about the fact that by all rights, he's a good deal older than Bruno. Not really, not right now, but at the same time . . . Bruno's parents grew up right about when Polnareff himself had been born. His parents had grown up at the tail end of the second world war. They're nearly a generation apart, and most times that doesn't really impact them, but sometimes it strikes him keenly.]
[That sounds like i miei nonni,, is what he almost says, but that feels like an awkward thing to say even though it's true. It makes Bruno feel much younger relative to Polnareff. That's not a feeling he usually experiences even though their birthdays are separated by a number of years and even here in the city, he's the younger of the two by a little over a year. Instead, he says,]
I'm sure it was frustrating for her sometimes, but she was probably happy you didn't understand really understand back then.
[Most definitely, but he does wish-- well. Of course he wishes she were still alive, but even beyond that, he wishes he could speak to her here and now. Sometimes he wonders if she'd understand his life better than he'd thought she would.
But such thoughts aren't for right now. Ilsa is tearfully confessing the truth of her love to Rick, and he's here with his boyfriend, and it's still a wonderful night. Polnareff kisses the top of his head again, his fingers curling in Bruno's grip. In French:]
[Bruno smiles wide. He shifts just enough in his seat that he can lift his head to look at Polnareff. He just grazes Polnareff's cheek with his fingertips, leaving them along his jawline before pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to his lips.]
[But that kiss makes him smile, and he wraps his arm a little tighter around Bruno, keeping him close.]
I'm gonna open the place every Friday night, I think. There's around thirty films, so I figure if I show once a week, we've got a pretty good rotation.
Ahh, there's my assassin boyfriend: a few more souls, he says, not just mine but whoever might be around. Whoever bitches about the movie choice, maybe. We've got Robin Hood back there, the '38 version, whoever doesn't like that deserves to get their soul pawned.
[Bruno rolls his eyes a little at assassin boyfriend, though in some ways, he's glad Polnareff can take such a playful attitude with it. Not that it isn't serious and shouldn't be joked about all the time, and Bruno certainly isn't ashamed of it, but Bruno would rather it not be something that occupies most of Polnareff's attention when he thinks of him.]
Mm, no he won't, he'll try and kill me. But you'll save me, won't you? You and Sticky Fingers? Because you love me?
[More nosing, and for once, he doesn't try and take advantage of their proximity to sneak a kiss. It's just nuzzling, affectionate but most definitely chaste.]
[Listen: he adores Kakyoin and Hierophant, but he loves Bruno. There's not a Stand that can beat Sticky Fingers, not according to Polnareff (besides Chariot, but Chariot is of course the greatest Stand in the world).]
[He pouts around that finger, but all right: that's an acceptable answer. He hums softly and tips his head up, nipping at Bruno's finger. On Bruno's other side, a small, quiet voice murmurs: pami?]
[Bruno leaves his finger there, letting Polnareff nip at it, and turns his head to look at Chariot with a smile. At least Chariot has volume control UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE.]
[Having the Stand out means two things: Polnareff gets to turn back to the movie (gosh, Bruno, stop interrupting to flirt with him, don't you know this is the only movie anyone's seen on this peninsula in literal years?) and Chariot gets to see Bruno again. The Stand seems particularly pleased by this: his eyes crinkle up, and he chirps out (equally quietly): pami!
He's not built for affection, but he can do his best. Gently he pats Bruno's cheek, his fingers cold and metallic. Without looking over at his boyfriend:]
He can do kisses, too, if you don't mind it being a helmet. Giorno likes em sometimes. Fugo even got one once.
[If he weren't expecting it, the coolness of Chariot's fingers would have likely caused Bruno to start. As it is though, Bruno just takes Chariot's hand into his own.]
Fugo?
[To hear that Giorno's been getting kisses from Chariot is not that much of a surprise. He's an incredibly tactile person both giving and receiving. Fugo, on the other hand, is a bit of a surprise.]
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[They're teasing one another, to be sure, but Polnareff isn't talking quite as loudly as he usually does. He wants to try and preserve this quiet moment, even as they talk in it.]
You wouldn't like me reading so much if you hated my impressions.
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[Which really just means he's guilty as charged.]
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[But not right now, and Polnareff leans over, kissing the top of Bruno's head chastely.
He manages to stay quiet for a good while longer, which is admirable. It isn't until they're halfway through the movie, Victor leading the bar in a triumphant refrain of Les Marseillais, that Polnareff squirms again: shifting against Bruno, nosing against him a little more.]
My maman grew up right during all this. I mean, Papa too, but she was the one who talked about it more. I wish . . . I didn't understand it, back then. She'd talk about how Sher and I didn't realize what we had, how hard life used to be, stuff like that. How lucky I was that I could mouth off all the time and not get hurt.
[It's an idle fact, more trivia than anything. Maybe a film that centered in part around the French resistance movement wasn't the best idea for a man already homesick, but he's still glad he chose it.
That fact, too, makes him think about the fact that by all rights, he's a good deal older than Bruno. Not really, not right now, but at the same time . . . Bruno's parents grew up right about when Polnareff himself had been born. His parents had grown up at the tail end of the second world war. They're nearly a generation apart, and most times that doesn't really impact them, but sometimes it strikes him keenly.]
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I'm sure it was frustrating for her sometimes, but she was probably happy you didn't understand really understand back then.
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[Most definitely, but he does wish-- well. Of course he wishes she were still alive, but even beyond that, he wishes he could speak to her here and now. Sometimes he wonders if she'd understand his life better than he'd thought she would.
But such thoughts aren't for right now. Ilsa is tearfully confessing the truth of her love to Rick, and he's here with his boyfriend, and it's still a wonderful night. Polnareff kisses the top of his head again, his fingers curling in Bruno's grip. In French:]
I'd meet you at the train station.
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Of course you would.
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[But that kiss makes him smile, and he wraps his arm a little tighter around Bruno, keeping him close.]
I'm gonna open the place every Friday night, I think. There's around thirty films, so I figure if I show once a week, we've got a pretty good rotation.
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And I'm sure if you pawn off a few more souls, you could probably get more if there are a few people don't like as much.
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That's the metric we're going to use?
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[He tips his head, nosing against him affectionately. There's a little mnrr noise, wordless and loving, before he adds:]
Way better than emeralds. And I get to show up Kakyoin by making an economy before him.
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I'm sure he'll take that very well.
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[More nosing, and for once, he doesn't try and take advantage of their proximity to sneak a kiss. It's just nuzzling, affectionate but most definitely chaste.]
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Of course. Sticky Fingers and I can take him and Hierophant. I'm sure he's still a little weirded out by Sticky Fingers that I'll have the advantage.
[Though at least he's not a huge baby like Polnareff about it.]
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[Listen: he adores Kakyoin and Hierophant, but he loves Bruno. There's not a Stand that can beat Sticky Fingers, not according to Polnareff (besides Chariot, but Chariot is of course the greatest Stand in the world).]
You gonna fight for me all the time?
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[He kisses Polnareff's cheek.]
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[A distant memory flicks a fin, and he adds:]
I still haven't heard Sticky Fingers speak.
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[He's teasing, but lovingly so. Bruno adores Chariot almost as much as its user.]
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I didn't say I don't like how much Chariot talks.
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Buonasera, Chariot.
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He's not built for affection, but he can do his best. Gently he pats Bruno's cheek, his fingers cold and metallic. Without looking over at his boyfriend:]
He can do kisses, too, if you don't mind it being a helmet. Giorno likes em sometimes. Fugo even got one once.
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Fugo?
[To hear that Giorno's been getting kisses from Chariot is not that much of a surprise. He's an incredibly tactile person both giving and receiving. Fugo, on the other hand, is a bit of a surprise.]
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[It's little wonder Bruno didn't notice: it's not as if Polnareff doesn't pepper his boyfriend every chance he gets.]
We were . . . I think he was showing me piano shit or something, and Chariot was there, so--
[Chariot leans in, pressing his helmet gently against Bruno's cheek.]
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