
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7930396.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Jean_Pierre_Polnareff/Giorno_Giovanna, giopol, polgio
  Character:
      Giorno_Giovanna, Jean_Pierre_Polnareff
  Additional Tags:
      NSFW, sin_-_Freeform, Fluff, Underage_-_Freeform, turtle_cuddles, Daddy
      Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-01 Words: 2225
****** Intimità ******
by apples4ryuk
Summary
     After the defeat of the boss, Giorno took Polnareff into his group.
     He never expected to form a close relationship with the man-turned-
     turtle. He never had a father figure until Polnareff, one who taught
     him morals and kindness and love. But he wanted more. He needed to
     express his love physically to him, if only he were not stuck in the
     body of a turtle.
     Thus, Giorno tests out a theory he's had about Polnareff's soul.
     Turns out he was right.
     PolGio, nsfw, sin, underage, fluff, all the cutes, daddy kink
Notes
     i rly loved this ask..... u can read the specifics on the blog
     jojorarepairs.tumblr.com~~~ //starry eyes//
It was a quiet Sunday night, and with the exception of a few guards always on
post just outside of Giorno’s master suite, everyone had already gone to sleep.
He lay in his luxurious king-sized bed, the pale-colored canopy curtains
hanging loose to hide them. In Giorno’s curled arm was a turtle whose shell he
stroked gently.
 “Daddy,” he called. The gem on top of the turtle’s shell illuminated a soft
purple glow as a spirit emerged from it in the form of a tiny Polnareff.
 “What is it, Giorno?”
 “Do you think there’s a way for us to be closer?”
 “How do you mean, my darling Don Giovanna?” he asked, chuckling. Polnareff
stopped Giorno’s forefinger as it stroked across his shell again, leaning his
transparent spirit upon it like a pillow.
 “I want to be closer to you. I want to be… intimate.”
 “Ah, I see, well… If only we had met sooner, mon amour,” Polnareff said.
Giorno sighed and hugged what had come to be his father-figure closer to his
chest, kissing the hard shell tenderly. Polnareff smiled, but his momentary
appearance as a transparent spirit was dimming.
 “Perhaps there is a way,” Giorno said, “Perhaps.”
 “Mm… I suddenly feel sleepy…”
 “Sleep, daddy.”
 Polnareff’s spirit disappeared back into the gem as he fell asleep. Giorno
still lay on the bed, wide awake, hoping that his plan would work.
 
“Wake up, daddy. Wake up.”
Giorno cooed in a sweet voice at Polnareff, the large sleeping figure beside
him. His fingers trailed along Polnareff’s shoulder muscle, stopping to feel
around his bicep. It felt like the real thing, a hard mass beneath silky soft
skin which delighted him. Polnareff began stirring as his muscles were admired
by Giorno’s smaller hands.
 “Hm? Giorno? What… what happened?”
 Polnareff rubbed his sleepy eyes and yawned, quite unaware of the situation.
But as his vision cleared, he saw Giorno’s face very close to his, smiling. He
smiled back and saw at the corner of his eye, his hand. A full-sized hand,
twisting back and forth as he examined it. It was solid, not transparent, and
he could reach forward and touch Giorno’s cheek as he so desperately wished to
do every night at bedtime. His eyes widened.
 There was warmth beneath his hand. Giorno’s cheek, in his palm, and he could
feel it—and his hand was not transparent nor miniature sized.
 “Giorno!” he exclaimed.
 “I am glad my little trick worked,” Giorno said.
 “What did you do, mon amour? How were you able to achieve this?”
 “I believed that your soul could travel freely,” he explained, placing his
hand over Polnareff’s. Giorno closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek
affectionately in Polnareff’s palm. “It was just a theory, but I decided to
test it tonight. Gold Experience collected flower petals from the garden and
turned them into living cells that reformed to create your body…”
 “Giorno…”
 “Well, did I do your body justice, daddy?” he asked.
 Polnareff laughed. Giorno’s smile brightened as he watched him look down at
his body. The cells had formed his legs just as they were at his death, but he
could move them. Polnareff didn’t seem too confident in them, however, only
moving one foot around his ankle and scrunching his nose. Giorno kissed the
wrinkle at his brow.
 “It’s been so long, mon amour,” he said, “That if there were any mistakes I
wouldn’t be able to tell. You did a wonderful job, Giorno.”
 His heart fluttered at the praise he received. Giorno exhaled slowly, then
inhaled again. Polnareff smelled just like the flowers his temporary residence
was created from, Peonia. Giorno loved them. He wanted to create his father’s
body in an absolute expression of love and adoration, something which this
flower represented.
 His knee slipped between Polnareff’s thighs and he pressed closer. The firm
arms that wrapped around his shoulders pulled him close, too, and Giorno
couldn’t be happier. With his head in the crook of his father-figure’s neck, he
kissed gently up from the dip in Polnareff’s chest to his Adam’s apple. Giorno
hummed, the vibration of his lips causing Polnareff to hug him tighter.
 “Ma précieuse fleur,” Polnareff said. His fingers looped around the hairtie,
unhinging Giorno’s braid. His wide fingers combed through shiny, soft strands
of blonde. “Je t’aime tellement.”
 “Anch’io, daddy, anch’io. Ora, facciamo l’amore dolce, hm?”
 Polnareff laughed softly and lay on his back. “You may have to do all of the
work, mon amour,” he said, covering his scarred eye with one hand. “I’m afraid
your papà can’t use these limbs very well.”
 “Not a problem,” Giorno said. He straddled Polnareff’s waist and removed his
sleeping gown with ease, shyly displaying his naked body. “Are you proud of my
body? I want to become stronger like you…”
 “Your body is beautiful, Giorno,” Polnareff said. “You’ve grown up well.” The
vision in his scarred eye was naught but a blur, so he closed it, looking up
and down Giorno’s lean torso. His arms were spectacularly sculpted, so that he
could feel the hard muscle beneath his hands as they grasped Giorno’s triceps.
His fingers danced further down along Giorno’s small wrists, which fit between
his thumb and middle finger easily and with space to spare. Giorno’s hands were
soft as he brought them to his lips to kiss.
 “Let me prove my worth to you in the form of love, daddy. It is my only
desire.”
 “Very well…”
 Giorno smiled, leaning down and kissing Polnareff. His lips were thin but
smooth and tasted sweet like sugar plum. His natural scent mixed with the
flowery fragrance of his body to create a heavy musk that engulfed Giorno in
its intoxication. He moaned softly.
 Polnareff opened his mouth first, licking with his tongue along Giorno’s
still-closed lips. Giorno didn’t hesitate to open his mouth, tilting his head
opposite the way Polnareff was going. Their tongues met and it was unlike
anything Giorno had ever felt before; its warmth and moist texture made him
thirst for more. Polnareff tasted just as sweet on Giorno’s tongue as his lips
did. Giorno inspected every part of his father-figure’s mouth; he’d never
kissed anyone like this before. It started a fire in his gut that he didn’t
want to put out, that he wanted to fuel further with the pureness of their
love.
 He felt his penis harden, and it ached to be touched. He guided Polnareff’s
delicate hand down his torso and wrapped his fingers around it, pulling apart
from the kiss.
 “Please touch me, daddy,” he requested. Polnareff nodded with a quirky smile.
 When the fingers took hold of his length Giorno gasped. They worked him
magically, stroking to full hardness at a steady pace—not too slow, nor too
fast. He could feel Polnareff growing beneath his bottom, too, and lifted his
thighs to scoot further up. Giorno reached behind him and gently grasped
Polnareff’s length, stroking it slowly, so slowly. Polnareff grunted
immediately, puffing short breaths of air out of his nose. His hips bucked up
every couple of strokes until Giorno finally moved a little faster, pleasuring
him a little more. He adored the quiet moans and whispers of his name as they
fell from Polnareff’s pink lips.
 “Mm… Giorno,” Polnareff whispered. “I’m not going to last v-very—long.”
 “No, daddy, not yet,” Giorno said. He removed his hand and laughed softly at
the disapproving whine below him. “I haven’t proven my worthiness yet. Only
then should you cum.”
 Polnareff pouted and it was adorable. Giorno’s hand came up to cradle his
face, caressing Polnareff’s cheek with every ounce of love he could muster at
his fingertips. He leaned down to kiss him again, this time nothing more than a
quick peck, and then reached toward the nightstand where the lube sat on top.
 He poured a gracious amount over his fingers, apologizing as it dripped on
Polnareff’s chest. He lifted his bum off of Polnareff’s lower belly as he began
to stretch himself out, keeping their faces close. His expressions of pain were
soothed by Polnareff’s gentle kisses and comforting caresses, turning soon into
knit brows and parted lips filled with pleasure. Polnareff was speaking to him
in French, little things, only some words that he knew well enough as he
heard—beautiful, erotic, I love you.
 Giorno was panting by the time he was stretched enough. A shaky hand reached
for the lube again, squirting globs onto Polnareff’s fully erect penis. Giorno
lathered it with his fingers and then grasped the tip, placing it at his
entrance.
 “Are you sure you’re ready, Giorno?”
 “Yes, daddy.”
 He teased the tip, bouncing on it a few times before pressing it in. Giorno
gasped, sitting down slowly, all the way until Polnareff’s length was buried
deep inside him. The muscles in his petit body clenched, tense, but he ignored
the throbbing pain. His eyes opened and he looked upon Polnareff’s concerned
frown, smiling genuinely.
 He intertwined their fingers and said, “Don’t worry, I want this. I’m fine.”
 Polnareff did not look convinced, but Giorno didn’t allow him time to respond.
He slowly pushed up on his knees, mouth hung open, but he didn’t take Polnareff
out completely—Giorno left the tip in, teasing it again, just there where it
hurt the least inside of him. He moaned, bouncing up and down on the small bit
of hard flesh. Polnareff was gripping tightly onto his hands, body trembling.
 “G-Giorno…”
 “Ahh… y-yes, daddy?”
 “Don’t tease me like—like that, or I’ll…”
 “Nnnh! I—ah… I understand,” he said. Giorno sat back down on Polnareff again,
this time with a loud moan. He watched the gleam in Polnareff’s blue eyes just
before they closed. Their hands had separated, and Giorno used Polnareff’s
large chest for support as he rode him at a faster pace. Polnareff’s hands
gently gripped around his waist, and Giorno knew he was holding back—being
careful not to damage the skin which he loved so much.
 “Daddy,” he said quietly, “I feel so full with you in me… Mmm—we fit
to—together so perfectly…”
 “Haah… Yes, Giorno,” Polnareff said. “Ahh—so good, mon amour, je n'ai jamais
ressenti ça avant.”
 Giorno leaned back, regrettably removing his hands from Polnareff’s firm pecs.
He rode him harder, the pain finally dulling into pleasurable friction. He
cried out Polnareff’s name, each with a puff of air after. Sweat rolled down
his cheeks as that thick member inside of him pulsed, pressing deeper each
time. It filled him up and he felt whole, he felt right. This was all that he
desired.
 “Daddy,” he said again. “Daddy I’m gonna…”
 “Viens, Giorno, viens,” he said. Polnareff’s eyes were rolling back and his
back arched, hips thrusting up each time Giorno came back down. The harshness
of each thrust inside of him brushed against Giorno’s prostate—his vision went
black. As Polnareff continued to hit it again and again, Giorno lost his words
and cried out a pitifully desperate moan, nails digging into Polnareff’s skin
as he came hard against his stomach.
 Polnareff’s thick length was squeezed tight inside of him. Each muscle clamped
down and Polnareff couldn’t hold it in any longer, whispering Giorno’s name and
bruising his hips as he came inside of him. Giorno’s body jerked, trembling as
the thirst inside of him was quenched.
 He slumped over, not bothering to take himself off of Polnareff’s penis yet,
and kissed his father-figure lovingly, passionately. Their fingers tangled in
each other’s hair and with smiles their long kisses turned into shorter ones,
each filled with more love than the last. Giorno’s heart was thumping in his
ears, but it was warm and bright and lifted his spirits to have finally made
love with the man he’d fallen for.
 “How was I ever so lucky,” Giorno said, “to have found you, il mio amore?”
 “Haha, my dear Giorno,” Polnareff began. He opened his mouth to continue but
was silenced by Giorno’s still-sticky forefinger pressed on his lips.
 “No, I truly mean it, daddy. My… well, my—my real father, he… I know how much
he has hurt you and your companions,” he said. Giorno’s voice turned into
whispers, scared, vulnerable. His words shook, something a Don should be
ashamed of. He was always to speak properly, confidently. Only with Polnareff
could Giorno let himself be vulnerable.
 “I am grateful you have not come to hate me by extension,” he said, smiling a
little.
 “How could I hate you, mon amour?” Polnareff asked. His frown was soft,
thinning into a contemplative line. “You are not your father, you never have
been, nor will you ever be. You are kind, loving, generous. I love my beautiful
son, Giorno.”
 “Mmm… I love you too, daddy.”
 Giorno ignored the blackness growing in his heart. He knew this would come to
an end, that Polnareff’s body would disintegrate into flower petals and be
carried away by the wind as he returned to his eternal turtle host. But, as he
climbed off of Polnareff and curled next to his warm, faux human body, Giorno
remained optimistic. He would fall asleep in Polnareff’s arms tonight, rather
than Polnareff in his. He would live in the love and warmth of their intimacy,
and fall asleep to gentle fingers stroking his hair.
 For Giorno, the heartache was worth it.
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