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Johnny Joestar never expected to end up in an abandoned shack in the middle of a thunderstorm with Diego Brando, but then again, his life never worked out the way he wanted it to.
The two of them sat at opposite ends of the room, both on edge in case the other tried to do anything. Internally, Johnny cursed himself and his own terrible luck for getting caught in this situation in the first place. It wasn’t like he had tried to get lost, but in the middle of the blinding wind and rain, he didn’t realize that Gyro wasn’t riding beside him until it was too late. He had no other choice but to press on and hope to find shelter before he caught pneumonia and fell ill. So when he saw the vague outline of the small cabin and the stable beside it, he’d urged Slow Dancer towards it without a second thought.
He had finished settling Slow Dancer into the stable and was just settling himself into the bare, deserted hut when the door suddenly flew open. Johnny had just stared as none other than Diego Brando stumbled into the shack, cradling his signature helmet under his arm, trailing rainwater on the floor. He slammed the door shut, then froze as he noticed Johnny sitting in the middle of the room.
For a brief second, the two of them just gawked at each other, both struck dumb with surprise and shock, before they both leapt into action at the exact same time. Johnny raised his arms, nails spinning and ready to shoot, while Diego’s skin began to harden into scales, no doubt preparing to unleash Scary Monsters into the world. A clap of thunder shook the room as the two of them waited for the other to make the first move.
Johnny was wondering how -- or if -- he could defeat Diego in these types of conditions when the blonde suddenly stepped back, standing straight. The scales on his skin began to fade as he picked up the helmet he had dropped in the frenzy, rearranging the letter ‘D’ which had been knocked crooked by the fall, ignoring Johnny completely.
“What - what are you doing?” Johnny hissed, as Diego headed to the other side of the room, sitting down against the wall and wringing his damp golden locks, like they weren’t enemies and threats to each other. “Is this some kind of trick?!”
Diego just continued to squeeze the water from his hair, completely unfazed. “If you wanted to attack me, you would’ve done so by now, Johnny Joestar.” The edges of his lips curled upwards into a sly smile, “But you haven’t. And neither have I.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” He wanted nothing more than to launch his nail bullets at Diego and wipe that smirk off his face. Cocky bastard.
Diego stopped his movements briefly to wag a finger at Johnny. “It means,” he drawled, his British accent shining through. “That neither of us wants to fight each other right now. I, for one,” he gestured to himself. “Am not in the mood to have to deal with you while soaking wet. Nor do I want to destroy the only shelter around this area.”
Johnny paused. In a way, Diego was right. It was raining, it was cold, he was drenched, and he really, really , didn’t want to fight in this state. In fact, all he really wanted was a warm fire and a good night’s rest, but unfortunately with Diego’s arrival, he wouldn’t be able to get any of that. “So, what are you proposing, exactly?”
Diego snorted. “I always knew you were slow, Johnny, but not this slow.” He let out an exaggerated sigh that had Johnny reconsidering that maybe shooting Diego right now wasn’t that bad of an idea after all, but before he could act, Diego was speaking. “I’m proposing that we call a truce for tonight. Temporary, of course,” he grinned, and even in the relative darkness Johnny could see the outlines of sharp, dinosaur teeth. “Tomorrow we can go back to being rivals.”
Johnny let out a bark of dry laughter. “Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot to trust you?”
“I do think you’re an idiot, Johnny,” Diego shifted against the ground as he began to pull off his boots, tilting them upside-down to drain them of the rainwater. Johnny bristled at his words, but also at his casual nonchalance. It infuriated him to no end. “And although it would be fun to tear out your entrails while you’re sleeping, it would also mean more trouble for me, and like I said, I’m really not in the mood for a battle.”
And that was how Johnny ended up sitting in a one-room shack with a singular blinking lightbulb in the middle of a raging thunderstorm with his enemy opposite him. Diego was now lying on the floor, curled up into his body. Although his eyes were closed, Johnny knew better than to believe that he was asleep. Diego could sprout all the nonsense he wanted about not attacking Johnny, but that didn’t mean that Johnny would believe it.
So instead, Johnny dragged himself into the furthermost corner from Diego possible, arms lying still at his side but ready to launch his nail bullets if he needed. Then, he waited, listening to the pitter-pattering of the rain on the rickety roof, watching some droplets of water leak through the roof and form an ever-growing puddle on the floor. He knew he was going to be tired tomorrow, but he had no choice -- there was no way he was sleeping, unguarded, in front of Diego.
You could kill him right here and now , a voice inside of him whispered. Even if he is just pretending to sleep, all it takes is just one quick shot to finish him off.
He glanced at Diego. The blonde’s body was partially obscured by the shadows, but in all regards, he did look dead to the world. If Diego was sleeping, finishing him off would be no problem...it would save Johnny and Gyro a lot of troubles down the line, and there was no one around to witness it. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it -- Diego was the scum of the earth, but there was something that just felt inherently wrong about attacking him behind the back like that.
Johnny huffed and crossed his arms across his chest, snuggling into himself. “I better not regret that,” he mumbled to himself, and refocused his attention on the howling of the wind and rain. It was going to be a long night.
***
He must’ve dozed off without realizing it, because one minute he was watching the leaking rainwater drip onto the floor, and the next he was lying on the ground, Diego leaning over him. Johnny let out a muffled shriek, ready to attack, but before he could move Diego had his arms pinned on the ground and immobilised so that he couldn’t shoot.
This was it, he thought, heart hammering in his chest. This was how he would die. All because he couldn’t bring himself to just kill Diego in the first place. Now his actions were coming back to bite him.
He thrashed against Diego’s grip -- one last attempt to break free -- but the blonde’s grip on Johnny’s wrists were like iron. “Whoa there,” Diego chuckled, his voice still maintaining that same type of unbothered coolness that made Johnny want to punch his teeth in. “What’s got you so riled up?”
“If you want to kill me, then just do it,” he gritted out. “Just get it over with.”
Diego raised an eyebrow. “Christ, Johnny, you really don’t learn, do you?” He let go of his grip on Johnny’s wrists, leaning back to sit against the wall. “I told you that I wouldn’t fight you tonight.”
“Then - then,” his mind was whirling. He used his sudden freedom to drag his body a few meters away from Diego. “Then what the hell were you doing just now?!”
“I was trying to wake you up.” Diego tossed his hair and huffed irritably. “Not my fault you immediately tried to shoot me.”
What the hell was Diego playing at? “Why were you trying to wake me up?”
“It’s cold,” Diego said, like that was the most normal thing in the world. “I thought, since we had decided on a truce ,” he placed particular emphasis on the word, “that perhaps we could stay closer together in order to share some warmth. It would benefit the both of us. Not sure about you, but I don’t want to fall sick with a fever and die.”
Johnny couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So,” he said slowly, still trying to process Diego’s words. “You wanted to wake me up...so we could… huddle ?”
Diego pursed his lips. “I suppose you could call it that.”
Johnny briefly wondered if he was stuck inside of a dream. Everything felt surreal. But the screaming of the wind and the crackling of lightning outside was too real to be conjured up in a dream. “Right,” he snapped. “Well I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not huddling with you.”
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Then, without warning, Diego suddenly quipped, “You’re shivering.”
“I- what?”
“Are you deaf as well as lame, Johnny?” Diego let out a little tsk-tsk noise, shaking his head. “I said you’re shivering , like a leaf.”
Johnny’s first reaction was to snap back at the other jockey, but a quick glance down at his own body showed that Diego was right. In his initial panic, he hadn’t realized that he was indeed shaking slightly, goosebumps raised along his skin. All of a sudden, he was startlingly aware of the chillness in the air that seemed to seep into his bones. His clothes, though drier, were still uncomfortably damp.
He jumped when Diego suddenly appeared beside him, arms reaching out to wrap around his waist. When the hell had he gotten over here?! Johnny raised his hands defensively, nails beginning to spin, but Diego appeared unfazed. “Don’t be reckless,” the blonde murmured, pulling Johnny against his chest. “I’ve had more than enough chances to kill you by now if I wanted to. Get the hint already.”
Johnny’s heart thudded in his chest as he felt Diego’s head rest against his shoulder, runaway strands of blonde hair tickling his neck. He didn’t reply, instead curling his hands into fists as his mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. He knew Diego was right -- when he had drifted off to sleep, he had been as defenseless as a baby, the perfect prey for Diego to kill. And yet, the blonde hadn’t harmed him. All this indicated that Diego was telling the truth -- that just for tonight, they weren’t enemies.
His bit his lip, hard. “Alright,” he finally said, letting out a breath he hoped wasn’t too shaky. “Alright, fine . We’ll...stay close. For warmth.”
Diego’s only reply was a small ‘hmm-mm’ as the two fell into an uneasy silence -- well, uneasy for Johnny, anyways. He wasn’t even sure how Diego felt about all of this. Was his smooth confidence just a mask, or did he really believe that Johnny would just be unopposed to all of this? Still, at least his body did feel warmer now that he was pressed against Diego’s chest. Johnny settled himself awkwardly into Diego’s hold, fighting against the primal instinct to fight, or to run away. Diego’s arms around him held him firmly, but gently.
It felt more comfortable, in a way, now that there was someone with him. Not just the shared warmth between their bodies -- there was something intrinsically comforting about being held by someone.
Except this ‘someone’ is Diego Brando, the voice inside of him chastised. Your enemy. Your competitor. There’s nothing comforting about this at all.
Johnny’s head throbbed, and he pushed those thoughts away from his head. He was tired, and he could wait until tomorrow to dissect his emotions about the situation. For now, Diego’s arms around him...felt kind of nice, and there was no way Johnny was going to push him away and return to the damp and the cold. Subconsciously, he found himself relaxing against Diego’s body, his eyelids growing heavy.
He was just starting to nod off when suddenly, Diego’s voice rasped in his ear, “There’s another way that we can get warm.”
“Wha-what?” Johnny tried to sit, but Diego’s hold had suddenly tightened, and before he could react there were hands snaking up under his shirt, fingertips skating across his skin. Panic suddenly flared up in the pit of his stomach as Diego’s hands continued to explore his chest. “Di-Diego, what are you doing?”
“Relax,” Diego’s voice made him shiver. “You’ll like it. I promise.”
“Wait -” His voice dissolved into a strangled choke as the hands under his shirt began to play with his nipples, the sensation new and foreign to him. Diego’s breathing had begun to quicken against his ear, and Johnny realized with a jolt that there was a growing hardness pressing against him.
“Diego, we can’t,” he blurted out, panic beginning to overtake him. He tried to wrench his body around, and to his surprise, Diego let him. Even in the semi-darkness, Johnny could see that Diego’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes darkened with barely-concealed lust. “We can’t,” he repeated, nearly tripping over his words.
“Why not?” Diego’s hands cupped Johnny’s cheek with uncharacteristic tenderness, and for some reason, Johnny didn’t pull away. “Remember,” he murmured, “this is just for tonight.”
And then he leaned in and pressed Johnny’s lips to his.
The kiss knocked all the remaining breath out of him, his heartbeat pounding so hard that he thought it might burst. It felt like an eternity had passed before they broke apart, both panting. Before Johnny even had a chance to recover, he found his long-sleeved shirt being pulled over his head. The knit cap that he always wore tumbled to the ground as Diego discarded the shirt to the side before pulling him into another kiss.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Diego murmured when they broke away for the second time. “Even when we were mere teenagers, rivals on the race course...I’ve always wanted you, Johnny Joestar.” He nipped sharply at Johnny’s neck, causing the other jockey to let out a yelp, before trailing his lips down Johnny’s chest. Johnny let out a muffled moan as Diego’s lips wrapped around a nipple, sucking and playing with it. He didn’t even have time to truly process Diego’s confession, his mind solely focused on the heat in his groin and Diego’s teeth and tongue. He could feel himself growing hard, and Diego noticed it too -- his lips curled upwards into his signature smirk as he pulled away from Johnny’s chest. “See? I told you you’d like it.”
Everything seemed to be moving too fast -- his mind could barely keep up. One second he was panting hard, trying to figure out what to say in response to Diego’s words, and then next he found himself on his back, Diego unbuckling and pulling down his pants and underpants. He felt a wave of shame wash over him at the realization that he was now bare before his enemy -- could Diego even be considered his enemy anymore? -- and tried to cover him, only for Diego to swat his hands away.
“Don’t you dare,” he muttered, eyes raking across his skin hungrily. “I want to see you.”
Then he leaned down and took Johnny’s cock in his mouth, and Johnny forgot everything -- the race, the storm, all of it. None of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was the warmth of Diego’s mouth and the drag of his lips.
Johnny threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, as Diego continued to bob his head between his legs, taking his length deep into his throat with ease. He let out a moan, the familiar coils of pleasure beginning to build in his gut. His hands moved with a will of their own, reaching out and entangling themselves into Diego’s mass of golden hair. “Please,” he begged, the promise of orgasm just out of reach. “Please - ah! - please, fuck --”
He was nearly there -- he could feel it, his toes curling in anticipation -- and then all of a sudden Diego was pulling away, letting Johnny’s cock slip out of his mouth. Johnny let out a frustrated cry, trying to force Diego’s head back down, but Diego just wrenched himself out of Johnny’s grip.
“You want to come?” Diego asked, panting, and Johnny nodded pathetically, feeling tears threaten to spill from his eyes from the sheer desperation. He had been so close, teetering on the edge and it had all been ripped away from him, oh so cruelly. His breath hitched in his throat as Diego parted his thighs, kneading the soft flesh. Once again, the embarrassment of being so exposed came rushing back. The feeling was fleeting, however, because the next thing he knew Diego was slipping his fingers into his mouth, and although there had been no direct order, Johnny began to suck.
“Eager, are we?” He heard Diego say, amusement clear in his tone. “That’s right, get them nice and wet for me, Johnny…”
He didn’t know how long it took for Diego to withdraw his fingers from his mouth, but when he did, his fingers were coated with Johnny’s spit. He let out a shaky breath as Diego fingers brushed against his hole, anticipation swirling in his stomach. He felt Diego hesitate, and the aching need to come -- to have something, anything inside of him -- made him snap, “Just do it already.”
Diego let out a low, throaty chuckle. “Alright,” he said, and slowly, slowly, pushed a finger into Johnny’s hole.
It was his first time doing this, and although he hadn’t told Diego, he was sure that the other jockey could tell. He clenched his fists as he was slowly fingered open, Diego adding another digit when he felt like Johnny had grown used to the first intrusion. In the distance, he heard someone moaning Diego’s name, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that the one calling out was him .
He let out a small gasp as the digits were removed without warning, leaving his hole open and gaping. His chest heaved as he propped himself up on his elbows, eyes widening as he watched Diego hastily unbutton his breeches, drawing out his hard, leaking cock. Diego spat in his palm, giving himself a few rough pumps, smirking at Johnny’s wide eyes. “Lie on your back,” he commanded, and Johnny did, letting his head fall against the cold, hard floor. Diego shifted forwards to press the head of his cock against Johnny’s twitching entrance, pausing briefly before he began to thrust in.
It hurt a little -- not as much as he thought it would, but there was a slight burn despite Diego’s prepping. He felt his entire body jolt as Diego found a rhythm, starting slow but building into a fast, frantic pace. Soon they were rutting against each other, their groans and pants filling the room, skin slick with sweat. Diego’s hands dug into his waist, nails leaving deep imprints on his skin.
And then Diego brushed against something inside of him, something that made him cry out and set off sparks of pleasure in his mind. Tears pricked his eyes as a wave of pleasure engulfed his senses, igniting every nerve. He was babbling something but he didn’t know what -- Diego’s name? More pleas? -- but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was Diego’s thrusts inside of him, hitting that same spot over and over. He felt a hand curl around his leaking cock and he let out a choked cry as Diego began to jerk him in motion with his thrusts.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Diego said, and that was all he needed to finally, finally , reach the high that Johnny had been searching for. His orgasm hit him like a truck, toes curling and back arching as he came across his chest. He heard Diego let out a stuttering groan soon after, then felt a rush of warmth flood his insides, and he realized with a jolt that Diego had also reached his release.
They stayed there like that, slumped against each other and panting hard, for what could’ve been a few seconds or an eternity. Johnny’s entire body felt like jelly as he bathed in the afterglow of his orgasm, waiting for his breathing to even out. Diego was draped above him, eyes closed and hair damp once again -- not with rain, but with sweat. Tentatively, Johnny reached out to pull the two of them closer -- but at Johnny’s touch, Diego’s eyes snapped open, and the gentle peace between the two of them broke. With a grunt, Diego pulled himself out, pausing briefly to admire his seed leaking from Johnny’s used hole before tucking himself back into his breeches.
“That was nice,” Diego said after a few seconds of silence, sitting on his knees. “You were just as good as I thought you would be.”
Johnny barely heard him. He felt tired, suddenly. Drained. He barely had the energy to move from the spread-eagle position he was in. In the distance, he heard some rustling -- then flinched as Diego shoved his clothes back into his arms. “You should get dressed,” he said, his voice having already reverted back to its original casual coolness, as if the two of them hadn’t just had sex on the floor of a dirty, abandoned shack. “Wouldn’t want to catch a cold now, would you?”
The blonde began to stand, but before he could Johnny reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Wait, Diego,” he said, hating how his voice sounded so drained and weak. But he needed to ask. “What does this...what does this mean?”
“This?” Diego raised an eyebrow. “You mean our little fling?”
“What else could it fucking be?” Despite the weariness in his bones and the aching soreness that was beginning to spread through his body, Johnny couldn’t help but feel a familiar flair of anger at the jockey. “What about the race? I mean, what am I --”
His words were swallowed by Diego tilting his head up and placing a small, quick kiss on his lips, before pulling away with a smirk. “Don’t let this get to your head, Johnny Joestar,” he said, turning away. “Remember, this was only for tonight.”