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It was not gentlemanly to enter a room without permission, let alone without knocking, but Jonathan's undoing had always been his curiosity. When he happened past the open bathroom door, he couldn't help but take a peek. He wasn't sure what he expected, really, as he looked through the cracked door into the steamy bathroom. He knew Dio would be in there. Maybe he had wanted to catch him doing something embarrassing so that he would have something to hold over Dio's head in perpetuity. Maybe he wanted a brief, voyeuristic moment of thrill in his otherwise dull life. Maybe puberty had warped him into a little pervert and he just wanted to spy on his housemate.
What he hadn't expected was Dio's naked body to provoke such a strong reaction in him. It wasn't like it was Jonathan's first time seeing him in a state of undress— when the two changed out of their rugby gear, he often caught a glimpse of Dio's bare chest as he tugged off his shirt. The nudity he witnessed as the two gabbed after a match, endorphin-high and abuzz with energy, was always casual. But as he stood hidden behind the bathroom door, he knew his view of the blonde had shifted as his cheeks flushed and his arms prickled with goosebumps at the sight of Dio's bare flesh. Maybe it wasn't that his form was new to Jonathan, but that he had never noticed him in the adult sense of the phrase. In this rare moment of power over Dio, he was afforded the opportunity for a good, long look.
The curl of his hair had grown more pronounced as the boy grew older and his wet hair clung to his bare shoulders in waves. Jonathan let his eyes roam as Dio drained the bathtub, following the smooth curve of his spine from the nape of his neck down to his ass. Beautifully pale and lean, he was the young Joestar's very own golden-haired Adonis.
Dio turned away from the bathtub to pick up a towel and began to dry his hair. The boy’s motions were rough and his buttocks jiggled with the ferocity of his movements. He ran a hand through his damp hair several times and the brief desire to have his own fingers threaded through Dio's silken locks flitted through Jonathan. Satisfied with the amount of water he had toweled out of his hair, Dio reached between his legs to dry himself off.
Jonathan's heart beat quickly in his breast as his housemate turned away from the bathtub and towards the door. As he continued to dry his body, Jonathan's eyes flickered down to glance at what lay between his legs. Such curiosity was natural, was it not? To see how Dio’s body compared to his, the only one he had ever intimately known.
Much to the boy's surprise, his gaze was met with... nothing. Well, not nothing. Jutting out from between Dio's legs was a small penis, although it lacked the heft of a scrotum to rest on. The pink head of his prick nested within his blonde pubes, peeking out from beneath its foreskin. The soft member was two inches long at most and no thicker than a finger. It made Jonathan's mouth water.
The bodies of other boys, of other men, had always attracted him. The peek of a hairy wrist from beneath the sleeve of a blouse or the strong curve of a calf emphasized by the buckle fastening on a pair of breeches was all it took to awaken his longing. The press of another strong body against his own during a rugby match enthralled him in ways that women never had.
Over the years, Jonathan had come to accept that there was a certain way men were built— but he had never seen a man like Dio before. It was clear to him now that up until this moment, he had never known the full breadth of men's beauty. Dio threaded the towel behind his arms to dry his back, exposing his full body to his hidden voyeur. The boy's pubic hair was of a darker blonde than the hair that sprouted from his head and it feathered up his stomach and down his thighs in wiry curls. Jonathan tugged at his breeches, his stiffening member bunching the fabric in an unseemly way.
He knew it was a bad idea to continue his voyeurism with Dio in full view of the door but he was rooted to the spot, transfixed by his housemate's form. His skin was a beautiful, gleaming pale and water still dripped from his wet hair, droplets sliding off his shoulders and down the veins that roped his arms. Dio’s strong, masculine frame encouraged his onlooker's gaze to follow the smooth plane of his chest downward, to follow the subtle contour of his abs to the trail of hair that directed Jonathan’s eyes to his groin. Dio's beauty echoed that of Greek gods cast in marble, immortalized forever in museums, right down to the little prick between his legs.
Jonathan's erection throbbed and he tugged once more at the clinging fabric of his breeches to relieve his discomfort. If anyone happened by, it would be obvious what perversion he was indulging in but he couldn't tear his eyes away from such a sight. If there was any blood left in his brain, he would berate himself for letting desire overtake him so. It was unbecoming of a gentleman.
Dio hung his towel up and reached for his nightshirt, pulling it on over his head in one smooth motion. He bent his chin to his chest as he buttoned the garment, leaving the very top button undone, and smoothed the white fabric down over his chest. He tilted his head back to toss out his damp hair once more and when his skull lurched back into place, the young Joestar found that Dio's gaze was fixed directly on the open bathroom door.
Jonathan startled, ducking away from the door and pressing his back flat against the wall. His heart hammered in his chest as fear coursed through him. Not only was Dio going to catch him peeping, he was going to catch him peeping with a throbbing boner in his pants. The impending humiliation did nothing to flag his persistent erection and he held his breath as footsteps approached... only to hear the sound of the door being pushed into its frame. Dio had simply realized he had left the door open. He didn't see him. Not wishing to squander his good fortune by lingering a moment longer, Jonathan shuffled awkwardly to his room at a pace slow enough to avoid arousing suspicion but quick enough that he could make it to safety without Dio catching sight of his egress. The bathroom door creaked open just as he was out of sight and he breathed a sigh of relief against his bedroom door frame.
The night following this event was a shameful one, as Jonathan rocked his hips against his mattress to the thought of Dio guiding his hand between his legs. Rutting against his bed sheets, Jonathan wondered what he would look like erect. Would his little prick flush red as he grew aroused? Would it swell up to twice its size? He spent all over his sheets to the thought of thumbing at Dio's cock, the boy's breath ragged against his bare skin as Jonathan pleasured him.
It was all he could think about for days afterwards. After witnessing so new and beautiful a form, one so awe-inspiring and glorious, he could hardly keep his eyes off Dio. His gaze began to linger on the blonde’s bare back as they changed after practice, distracted by thoughts of the hair that trailed down his stomach, of his muscular thighs and what lay between them.
These new feelings that buzzed within him, barely contained beneath his skin, were as exciting as they were frightening. Stealing a glance at Dio’s firm ass in his slacks or indulging in the sight of the tight sweater stretching over his chest thrilled Jonathan but the more often he did so, the harder it became for him to feel content with merely looking. His palms began to itch with the desire to touch Dio, to make his longing known in a corporeal manner.
Of course, he had to suppress such thoughts. Overt affections would invite unnecessary scrutiny, so Jonathan instead satisfied himself with fleeting touches. The barest brush of skin against skin as he handed off a paper to Dio, the warm press of his thigh against Jonathan’s own as they sat next to each other on a bench after practice. It was of no consequence how light the graze of their hands were, or how long Dio’s flesh warmed his. The same buzz of excitement overtook him with each and every stolen touch, the minuscule nature doing little to diminish his joy.
But as excited as each fleeting touch made him, he knew it was bad to let desire influence his conduct in such a way. He knew he would do something stupid if he continued down this path. Dio was an observant man. If he hadn't worked out the reason behind his housemate’s behavior already, he would do so quickly if Jonathan continued to indulge in this way.
He agonized over what to do about the matter for days. Openly acting on his desires could strain newly-mended relations between the two but it was much too risky to slake his lust by chancing another peek at Dio in the bath. He trembled to think about what cruelty Dio would subject him to if he found out what perversion he had indulged in all those nights ago.
Jonathan set his mind to putting an end to such immodest behavior. He tapered himself off his libertine impulses over time, just as someone would quit any other miserable habit. Slowly, he stopped touching himself to thoughts of Dio when his member grew stiff at night. He changed with his back to him, he stopped finding excuses to clap him on the shoulder or place a hand on his back.
In fact, he had successfully cast his desires out of his mind for so long that he had very nearly convinced himself that he had forgotten about the incident. Until the day that Father called the two boys to his study to announce the renovation of part of the roof and instructed Jonathan to share his room with Dio for a night. Instantly, every prurient thought he had repressed came flooding back. An unexpectedly destructive summer storm had handed Jonathan the opportunity to spend a night alone with Dio. His whole body tingled. No better opportunity would ever be presented to him. Dio seemed unimpressed by the concept, if a little annoyed, as Jonathan graciously welcomed the boy to share his room.
Jonathan’s bed was quite large and the two boys could sleep without touching, but his skin prickled with goosebumps when Dio’s weight sunk into the mattress, as if the blonde was pressed right up against him. Much to his horror, the familiar tingle of arousal that signaled an oncoming erection was nearly instantaneous as Dio settled into his bed. He grimaced. He had put so much energy into repressing the lustful thoughts he had developed for his housemate and all that work had been undone in an instant. He had no greater control over his body here, watching the back of Dio’s head nestle into a pillow, than he did that fateful night as he spied on him through the bathroom door. Jonathan turned on his side so that his growing length wouldn’t tent the bed sheets. He would never hear the end of it if Dio caught him with an erection as he lay in bed next to him— not only would he tell Father that his son was a pervert but he would tease him about it for the rest of his days. Jonathan’s life would really be over if word got out about something like that.
He laid still for a long time, feeling his pulse twitch in his swelling cock as he worked up the courage to say something, anything to Dio. If he were to fall asleep, the boy wouldn’t take kindly to being awoken and Jonathan would miss out on the chance to voice his feelings. Several minutes dragged by with Jonathan doing nothing more than staring at the back of Dio’s head until the thought of his unconscious body betraying him as he slept crept into his mind. Waking to a shrill laugh from Dio as he gawked at a wet patch on his nightshirt was frightening enough that it willed his stiff tongue to move.
“Dio,” he began, wincing at the sound of his own voice cutting through the silence. “The other day… I saw you, uh, getting out of the bath.”
The boy shifted on his pillow to glance over his shoulder at Jonathan. Good, he was still awake.
"That's not very gentlemanly of you, to enter a room without knocking."
"I know," he admitted sheepishly.
Dio rolled over to face him, the mattress bouncing underneath his frame. His gaze was so piercing that it seemed to Jonathan as if his eyes shone in the dark, like a cat's. For a moment, all the young Joestar could hear was the beat of his own heart as it hammered in his breast like a frightened little rabbit's.
"Is that why you're telling me this?” Dio asked. “I didn't realize this was your confessional."
The derisive response made Jonathan’s chest tight, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.
"I mean, I saw you... naked. "
"So?" he shot back. "Do you want me to tell you to say ten Hail Mary's for spying on me?" The boy's amber eyes glistened with mischief as he ran with the ecclesiastical metaphor. Dio's quirked brow and the smile that played upon his lips urged the young Joestar to continue so that he could berate him further. Jonathan squirmed uncomfortably. This wasn't working— he needed to rethink his approach.
"So, well, I guess I was wondering... why it is that we look so different, you and me."
The whites of Dio's eyes flashed in surprise. His mischievous expression evaporating, he took a long, quiet moment to piece together his response. Finally, he looked at Jonathan with a countenance displaying more candor than he had ever seen on the man before. It was unusual for Dio to be struck speechless and despite himself, Jonathan felt his heart ache. Had he been questioned on this basis before, in a manner so precarious that it required a measured reply?
"I don't have an answer to that," he said finally. "As much as I know why there are some people born with hair red as a wild fire who haven't a ginger in their whole family. It's a quirk of genetics, I suppose."
Jonathan made a little murmur of understanding, lowering his gaze to pick at a loose string on his pillowcase. "Just... just curious," he said in an attempt to deflect his awkwardness.
Dio tilted his head to the side to recapture Jonathan’s eye. The movement caused his blonde hair to slide back over his shoulder, putting the thick muscle stretching across his neck prominently on display. His eyes lidded in the manner of someone sure in their own sensuality, a snakelike grin stretching across his lips. His courage had faltered but for a moment, returning twofold with Jonathan's shy response.
"Curious how? Do you want to touch me, Jonathan?"
Jonathan felt his erection throb beneath his drawers. His mouth had grown dry and he licked his lips, swallowing thickly before continuing.
"I do."
Outside of the boxing ring or rugby field, he had never touched another boy before. And even if sports afforded him the chance to touch other men, a fist to someone's face was never the way that he craved to lay touch upon another. Jonathan did not want his fingers to bruise Dio. He wanted them to praise.
Dio lifted the blanket that covered them, inviting him to come closer, and watched the young Joestar’s slow movements with amusement as he inched his way across the mattress. Jonathan stopped once he was but an arm’s length away, his hand resting in the space between them. As the blanket fell back over his thighs, he lifted his eyes to meet Dio’s and was struck breathless. He had never been this close to him before, not for more than a second and certainly never in a way that allowed him to appreciate such fine features. Dio was beautiful . Clear skin, the cupid’s bow of his lip pronounced and inviting, his eyebrows thick and dark— he was the picture of eroticism, of romance.
His palms itched with the desire to touch him. But where? His hip was much too forward. His face? Much too intimate. Jonathan settled on placing his hand on the side of his chest. He could hardly believe it as he did so— he had wanted this for so long. Adrenaline pulsed through him with every beat of his heart as it hammered against his sternum. Such a reaction from the slightest of touches was wholly embarrassing and Jonathan worked to downplay his excitement by evening his breathing, inhaling slow and deep.
He focused instead on the feeling of Dio’s nightshirt beneath his fingers as he caressed him, slowly, brushing his thumb back and forth across the fabric. He could feel his rib cage expand with each breath that he took, Jonathan’s hand rising and falling in rhythm. His skin prickled with goosebumps as the unexpected warmth of Dio’s hand crept along his hip, the blonde using the newfound leverage to pull himself closer to Jonathan. His breathing faltered. They were close enough now that he could smell the scent of castile soap on Dio’s skin, feel his breath on his face. If Jonathan inclined his head, their foreheads would touch.
The two were still enough that he could feel the faint thrum of Dio's heartbeat through his thin nightshirt. The quick clip of his heart beneath Jonathan’s palm betrayed his self-assured exterior. He was nervous. Dio, the boy who had killed his dog, who had stolen his childhood sweetheart's first kiss, was nervous. He had always teased him about being sheltered but here, Dio’s hand as hesitant as his own, Jonathan wondered if his housemate was just as virginal.
Emboldened by this new perspective, he let his hand roam more freely. He stroked down Dio’s body in broader motions, letting his hand slide from the side of his chest down to the curve of his waist as he caressed him with his fingertips. Following suit as the young Joestar’s confidence grew, Dio’s hand moved from Jonathan’s hip to further down his body. A fresh flush deepened the red of his cheeks as Dio caressed his lower back and thighs in sensual motions, his touch slow yet firm. Despite the warm night, Jonathan found himself shivering underneath the blanket, overwhelmed by excitement and arousal.
"Who knew such gentle touches could excite you so, Jojo," Dio remarked. Jonathan had nary a chance to quirk his brow in inquiry before he felt a knee press against his erection. His mouth dropped open in a wordless cry of pleasure as Dio rubbed his knee back and forth across his hardness. "It's fortunate that my condition makes my arousal much less... conspicuous. "
Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, cheeks burning in embarrassment. He felt ashamed of himself for displaying such unrestrained desire.
"I'm s-sorry,” he said, the chattering of his teeth serving only to further his distress as he drew his hand back from Dio’s waist.
Dio laughed derisively as he caught his wrist and returned it to its place. "Why are you sorry? I like this, that you can't control yourself around me."
As if to prove his point, Dio grabbed a hold of his cock and began to stroke him through his nightshirt. His grip was loose, uncertain of how much pressure would bring him pleasure, but Jonathan was so painfully aroused that even the slightest amount of friction against his swollen cock had him rocking his hips into his housemate’s touch. He was so warm he felt dizzy as Dio stroked him, his fingers brushing the sensitive head of his cock before running down his full length and back, but the slow, careful touch placed true pleasure just beyond his reach.
“You can do it harder,” he whispered. His invitation was met with a wicked grin as Dio’s grip tightened, firmly grasping his cock. When he began to move his hand again, Jonathan saw stars.
"Oh, Dio," he gasped, fingers curling into his nightshirt. Even through two layers of clothing, it felt incredible to have someone else touching him. Dio’s hand was warm, his fingers slender and his touch blessedly different from the familiar sensation of his own hand. He let his eyes slip closed to relish the pure sensation of Dio working his shaft, his broad strokes becoming more precise as he quickly zeroed in on the spots that made Jonathan’s breath hitch.
Dio was just beginning to build to a satisfying rhythm, the kind that made you rock your hips and whimper, before interrupting Jonathan’s pleasure to toss the blanket covering them aside. The young Joestar looked up at his housemate to find him staring back with incredible intensity, his eyes a shimmering brown, deep and golden like honey.
“Take it out,” Dio demanded, his authoritative tone undermined by how flushed his cheeks had become. “I want to see.”
Jonathan looked down between them at the tent his erection had created and was embarrassed to see that after just a few minutes of stroking he had leaked pre-cum through his underwear, creating a small wet stain on his nightshirt. Even though Dio had been jerking him off just moments ago, the request to see his stiff cock made him anxious.
“Are you sure?”
Jonathan was not typically a self-conscious man but under Dio’s scrutinizing gaze he always grew bashful. If he had enjoyed the feeling of his erection against his palm, would he be as captivated by the true appearance of what lay between his legs? He couldn't bear the thought of pulling down his drawers and watching Dio’s face drop in disappointment.
“Come now, Jonathan,” he chided. “It’s a little late for coyness.”
Taking a steadying breath, Jonathan gathered his nightshirt above his waist and tilted his hips off the bed to hook his thumbs underneath the waistband of his drawers. His erection caught on the waistband as he tugged the undergarment down, his hard member hitting his stomach with a wet slap as it was freed. The noise made Jonathan cringe.
Dio leaned over him to get a good look, barely managing to mask a grin as his eyes widened with interest. “There’s nothing to be shy about, really,” he scoffed as he shimmied Jonathan’s drawers down further. His housemate’s hands braced against his thighs as he took in the sight of his stiff prick with wonder felt like something out of a dream. Dio ran a finger appraisingly up the curve of his cock, collecting a trickle of pre-cum that oozed from the tip and used his thumb to smear it over his fingers. Expecting him to wrap his fingers around his shaft again, Jonathan tensed as his touch trailed downward and he ran his wet thumb over the seam of his ballsack instead.
“B-be careful there,” he warned. “If you squeeze too hard it's really gonna hurt.”
“You worry too much, Jojo,” Dio said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Just relax.”
Jonathan tried to do so as Dio fondled him, exploring his balls the same way he had his cock, and was slowly put at ease by his unexpectedly gentle touch as he stroked the space where his shaft connected to his scrotum. Dio seemed fascinated by his weighty little sack, cupping it in his palm and circling his thumb around his balls individually. The young Joestar was surprised by how pleasurable this kind of touch was, but his neglected cock was aching . As Dio massaged his balls, using his fingertips to cradle his sack as he rubbed them back and forth against the palm of his hand, Jonathan felt another trickle of pre-cum leak from his cock and slowly dribble its way down his shaft. His stiff member was so engorged with blood that it twitched in time with his pulse, but he would have been remiss to cut Dio’s appreciation short. The boy was completely, entirely focused on him, lips parted as he worked his fingers against Jonathan’s ballsack, and that attentiveness aroused him more than anything else.
His hand stilling, Dio’s head pricked up as Jonathan’s warm pre-cum oozed over his fingers. For a moment he seemed disoriented, as if stirred from a trance, as he looked up at his housemate’s flushed face and back at his throbbing member. Giving a few parting strokes to his ballsack, Dio straightened up and plunged Jonathan’s cock back into his grip without warning.
The breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding rushed out of him in a gasp as Dio took his bare cock in his fist and began to stroke him in earnest. He gaped down at himself, overwhelmed by the sudden return of pressure around his cock, mesmerized by the sight of the red, swollen head sliding in and out of Dio’s grip. The wet noise of the blonde working his cock was enough to make his toes curl in pleasure, he had no idea he could even get that slick without oil.
His fist slid quickly from head to base and back up, setting a steady, even pace and Jonathan had to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of his pleasure. Each twist of Dio’s fingers over the sensitive head of his cock worked a moan out of him and he fought to keep his eyes straight in his skull as the blonde stroked him.
When he was able to focus his bleary gaze upon Dio again, he found that the boy was red from ear to ear, his brow furrowed in an expression of intense concentration. His eyes were locked onto Jonathan’s face, lips parted as he breathlessly watched for every minute change in expression as he worked his cock. Jonathan held his gaze with what he was sure was a dazed, slack-jawed look, each pump of his fist deepening the ache of his cock, making his heavy balls feel even fuller. There was something about seeing Dio so invested in his pleasure that made him burn with desire and when the blonde’s lips quirked upwards in a self-satisfied smile, that was nearly enough for him to spend all over his stomach. And he didn't want that, not yet, especially when he hadn't touched Dio in return. That was the thought he had touched himself to for weeks on end, not Dio jerking him off, but feeling the boy’s hardness against his hand, his lips, his cock. He wanted to see how stiff he was, he wanted to see it so badly.
Jonathan grabbed ahold of Dio’s waist, tugging at the fabric of his nightshirt in a fervent desire to convey his intent.
“Please, let me touch you, please…”
“Oh, how I do like to hear you beg for it, Jonathan,” Dio said with a smirk as he let go of his erection. He placed his hand over Jonathan’s and slowly guided it down his body, gathering the fabric of his nightshirt over his hips and unlacing his drawers just far enough for the young Joestar to slip his hand inside.
Jonathan was immediately struck by how hot it was between his legs. Hot and wet , his groin slick with pre-cum. Dragging his trembling fingers through the boy’s dense pubic hair, at long last his touch fell upon his cock. He was entirely unprepared for just how swollen his prick would be and Jonathan’s mouth dropped open in a gasp as his fingers ran from base to tip. He looked up at his housemate incredulously. His estimate of Dio’s prick being no thicker than a finger had been accurate, but the length of his hardness left him gobsmacked. His engorged cock stretched nearly the full length of Jonathan’s thumb, twice the size of his flaccid length. He practically felt Dio’s pulse throb within his cock as he squeezed him between his fingers. To be in such a state after touching his body… it made Jonathan’s head spin. Dio seemed pleased by his housemate's reception as he rid himself of his drawers, shucking them down his calves to allow him more room to explore.
Drawing his hand back, Jonathan pushed up against his pubic bone to flatten the flesh there and peer at the full length of him. The little flaccid prick he had dreamt about fondling to hardness was swollen with arousal, hot and red and begging for touch. His foreskin had drawn completely back over the head of his cock, a thick vein standing out against the tight skin. Jonathan felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the sight and smell of his arousal.
“Forgive me,” he breathed, hardly able to tear his gaze away from where his fingers laid long enough to look up at Dio as he spoke. “I don't mean to stare…”
“I don’t mind,” Dio replied with a haughty toss of his hair over his shoulder. He looked down at Jonathan with an air of self-assurance, as if the young Joestar’s proper place in the world was always meant to be between his legs. When he next spoke, his words held all the weight of a command. “Admire me like you did in the doorway all those nights ago.”
The mention of his past transgressions made him want to duck his head in shame, but Jonathan resisted the diffident impulse. Here, now, he had been handed the chance to atone for his misdeeds. To lay his desire bare and making his feelings known not with words, but with touch. He licked his lips and took Dio’s prick into his hand gently, taking great care not to be too rough. It felt different than his own— softer, more pliant between his fingers. Jonathan stroked him with two fingers against the side of his cock, slow and reverent. He could hardly believe he had been afforded the opportunity to touch Dio after he had so thoroughly convinced himself such a thing could never come to be. Here, in his bed, beneath his hands, he held a beauty so rare that if it were not for that fateful night, he could have lived his entire life without seeing it.
Taking Dio’s prick between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled his foreskin back and forth over the pink head of his cock in slow, measured strokes, emulating how he touched himself. Despite the difference in size between the two of them, the structure was the same— a mushroom cap shaped head that transitioned into a thick shaft, enveloped in a darker foreskin. If he breathed in deep, he was met with the musky scent of his manhood, a smell that was intoxicatingly, intrinsically Dio. It made Jonathan’s saliva thicken in his mouth. His eyes flitted up to Dio, who looked on expectantly as he stroked his cock.
Dio’s gaze was downcast, lips parted and his breathing slow as he watched Jonathan stroke him. Admittedly, the boy was less innately skilled at pleasuring him than he had been in his fantasies, but Jonathan Joestar was nothing if not determined. He tilted his head to capture Dio’s eye, in search of the guidance that would turn his housemate’s even breathing ragged.
“Grip it harder,” he instructed as he reached down to adjust Jonathan’s amateur grip. “Use your thumb like this.” Dio pushed his thumb firmly against the head of his cock and sighed contentedly as his stroking resumed. Returning his gaze to where his hand lay as he stroked him with improved technique, the young Joestar paid special attention to where Dio had moved his thumb. His housemate spread his legs wider to give him more space to work, his cock now twitching eagerly with each roll of Jonathan’s thumb over the swollen head. Giving pleasure was an art, and Jonathan fantasized about touching Dio so often that pleasuring him became second nature. He wouldn’t need instruction— pleasuring Dio would become as easy as pleasuring himself.
Pressing his length against the side of a curled finger, Jonathan rubbed at the swollen head with renewed purpose and was rewarded with a gasp of his name as a shiver ran through Dio’s body. He rocked his hips into the boy’s touch, seeking greater, deeper pleasure and Jonathan’s dripping erection throbbed with every delighted gasp he worked from Dio. As he continued to stroke him, Dio’s composure grew weaker, his head tipping back as he bit at his lip to keep any lustful noises at bay.
His eyes had fallen closed, his breath coming in hot little pants as Jonathan swiped his thumb against the sensitive spot he had discovered where the plump head of Dio’s cock met his shaft. He felt so hot, his balls so full that he feared the slightest amount of friction against his cock would make him spend all over the sheets.
Jonathan pulled his hand away to adjust his grip and was struck breathless as the side of his hand came away covered in thick, glistening pre-cum. It oozed from the space beneath Dio’s cock, clinging to his skin in sticky, clear strands. His fingers trembled as he flexed them, watching pre-cum stretch between his digits. It was overwhelming to see his desire reciprocated forthright, knowing now that Dio wanted him just as badly, that he craved his touch, pleasure brought by Jonathan’s fingertips. Barely resisting the urge to suck his fingers and taste Dio’s arousal on his tongue, he smeared the lubricant back over his cock.
Dio moaned as his fingers returned to their work, strokes smoother and quicker with the addition of a lubricant. Jonathan let his eyes fall shut, letting the visual stimulus slip away to relish the feeling of Dio’s hard cock between his fingers, how the muscles of his thighs twitched as he stroked him. The sound of his wet fingers working his cock was mesmerizing, a melody made all the sweeter when punctuated with Dio’s soft gasps and hushed moans.
Jonathan’s eyes snapped open as his housemate’s hand returned to his shaft and he gaped down at his fist as it began to move. Just the sight of the two of them stroking each other at once made his balls feel tight— he knew he wouldn't last long if Dio returned to his previous pace and he selfishly wanted more of the night.
"Actually, could I, uh,” he faltered. “Can I... here."
Jonathan tapped his housemate’s wrist to signal him to let go and wrapped his own fingers around his flushed member, guiding it towards Dio’s erection.
"I want to..."
He touched the tip of his prick to Dio's cock, making his intentions known without the brazenness of a verbal admission. The boy’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he grinned as he reached between his legs to better expose his cock. He kicked off the underwear that had been dangling around his ankles and Jonathan hurried to do the same. It took the two boys a moment to figure out how to slot their bodies together but with one of Jonathan's thick legs between Dio's and the blonde's thigh resting on his hip, their groins touched. The position put them chest to chest, his dick pressed right up against Dio’s.
He was close enough to kiss if Jonathan tilted his head to capture his mouth. Dio’s mouth was so pretty, his lips so pink and plump and he shouldn’t, he couldn’t , but oh how he wanted to… Jonathan bit his lip to keep the amorous impulse at bay but it wasn’t long before that thought—and all others—were gone from his mind as the boy began to move. Snaking his arms around the young Joestar to hold onto him for support, Dio rocked his hips so that his cock slid up Jonathan’s length. His hips rocked to and fro in small strokes that rubbed the wet heads of their cocks against each other and the motion sent a pang of heat through Jonathan’s loins. He bucked his hips into the rhythm, both boys letting out a little moan in unison as their cocks were ground together.
The wetness that dripped from between Dio’s legs lubricated his motions, the smooth glide of their cocks against each other allowing the pace of Dio’s hips to grow as punishing as his fist’s had. Wrapping his arms around him as if in a hug, Jonathan buried his head in the boy’s shoulder and rocked his hips into his, creating an out of sync rhythm that had their cocks meet but for a moment at a time before separating again. Dio arched his back to follow Jonathan’s hips with his own in a desperate attempt to recapture their previous rhythm but soon grew frustrated with the boy’s unyielding pace.
“Stop moving,” Dio scolded and Jonathan forced his hips to still, letting his housemate set the pace once more. His dripping cock ached for more pressure as Dio frotted against him, hard member twitching helplessly against his abdomen. Jonathan clung tighter to his shoulders and reminded himself that this night wasn’t about him , but how he could be a conduit to Dio’s pleasure. Once Dio began to pant and moan again, Jonathan slowly canted his hips forward, taking great care to match his movements so that their cocks were only separated long enough to ensure that the next time they met, the brief absence would only intensify their pleasure.
“That’s it, Jojo…” he murmured and Jonathan moaned weakly in response. His mind raced as quickly as his heart, but he dared not voice his thoughts and risk ruining their momentum. Dared not tell Dio how good it felt to have his chest pressed flush against his, how his hot breath against his neck made his nipples grow hard. It was incredible how the body of one man, who he had known for so many years, could captivate him so completely. His heart pounded so hard against his breast that he was sure Dio could feel the snap of its valves through his nightshirt.
His sweaty skin sticking to Jonathan’s as their hips met again and again, Dio's movements steadily grew erratic and his grip on the boy more painful as he neared orgasm. His hard, wet length slid over the sensitive underside of Jonathan’s cock so quickly that the intensity of pleasure nearly brought tears to his eyes. Dio was breathing heavily and Jonathan desperately wished he could see how his hair clung to his sweaty forehead, how his eyes rolled upwards and his brows knit together as he neared orgasm.
"Jojo," he gasped urgently and his body went tense, muscles taut as piano wire, before his cock began to pulse against Jonathan’s length and he cried out in pleasure. He held Dio closer as he shook, violently, as if lightning had passed through him, the boy snarling through his orgasm with a ferocity that made Jonathan’s hair stand on end. His dick felt so hard, so full as Dio’s hot prick twitched against him and he chased Dio’s bucking hips with his own, ensuring his pleasure did not abate for a moment. He wanted him to see stars, wanted him to be thinking about this feeling long after he had left Jonathan’s bed.
He felt pleasure building in his loins as Dio coasted down from his climax and his body relaxed, content now to lay still and let Jonathan rut his cock against him as he basked in post-orgasmic bliss. Gulping down a few breaths but scarcely pausing long enough to even his breathing, he tilted his head towards Jonathan’s ear to breathlessly whisper, "I knew, you know." Jonathan fought through a haze of arousal to piece together what Dio could be referring to.
"Huh?" he mumbled dumbly as he continued to chase the apex of his pleasure. He held him tighter, wanting him ever-closer, utterly besotted by the feeling of Dio’s body against his.
"That you were watching me in the bath," he clarified, breath hot against the side of Jonathan’s neck. "I knew. I heard you out there."
Dio grinned as his hips grew faster. Jonathan knew chasing pleasure in this way had irreparably changed their dynamic but it felt so good to be rutting against a warm body instead of his mattress and the wet heat that slid over his cock had only gotten wetter after Dio’s orgasm. He felt drunk on arousal, Dio’s words clouding his mind like alcohol, his body hot and his mind cottony. He still had one arm braced against his back, holding Jonathan in place.
"Did you think it was luck that allowed you a peek at me through the bathroom door? No, It was I, Dio, who allowed you to gaze upon perfection."
Dio's hand drifted from his back to his skull, curling into his hair and making his whole body shiver. His hard, hot little prick felt so good against Jonathan’s swollen cock but it was Dio’s nails against his scalp that finally did him in. It was too much, too intimate . Crushing Dio’s chest into his own, he moaned helplessly as he shot his load all over their stomachs. Splattering the bed sheets with cum, he curled forward, moaning into Dio’s shoulder as he came, lips brushing against his neck in an almost-kiss. The intensity of his orgasm was unlike anything he had experienced before and as he grit his teeth to keep his pleasured cry from echoing throughout the room, a string of saliva escaped the corner of his mouth and dripped onto Dio’s collar. It felt like he was cumming forever, toes curling as each pulse of his cock spurted a hot, fresh ribbon of cum onto their bellies. He moaned as Dio ground his hips down against him, milking every last drop from his cock.
Jonathan’s muscles went lax as his orgasm finally coasted to an end, legs trembling as he disentangled himself from Dio. He was exhausted, all the tension his body had held throughout the day drained out of the tip of his cock with his orgasm. While they no longer held each other, Jonathan was grateful that Dio didn’t move to leave his side straight away. The warmth of his body stayed near as he caught his breath, contented in the mutual pleasure they had shared. His closeness made Jonathan feel cared for, as if the two of them were lovers.
Dio looked down between them at the splatter of spunk on his nightshirt, eyebrows raising as the corners of his lips quirked upwards. The evidence of Jonathan’s completion seemed to both surprise and delight him. In a gesture that left Jonathan equal parts embarrassed and aroused, Dio ran his hand through the mess on his nightshirt as his eyes tracked across the bed, taking in the remarkable volume of ejaculate.
"Oh, what a mess you've made, Jojo..." he chided as he watched Jonathan’s spunk stretch between his spread fingers.
Collecting Jonathan’s jizz off his nightshirt, Dio wiped his sticky hand on the bed sheets and rolled off him, away from the no man’s land between them made up of his spunk. Hastily snagging his drawers from the other end of the bed, Jonathan used the fabric to mop up the mess. Propped up on an elbow, Dio lounged before him in a satisfied manner, lazy and cat-like as he watched Jonathan’s ineffectual efforts to blot the stain from himself and his sheets. Too soiled to wear after their use as a rag, and with the worst of the mess gone, he tossed his drawers to the floor. Dio watched him still, eyes roaming his face, evidently hoping for something that Jonathan was either too polite to bring up or too shy to inquire about.
“Is your curiosity sated, then, Jonathan?” he asked after some time of the two of them sitting in silence. “You’re not interested in exploring further?”
When Jonathan said nothing, his eyes drifting away demurely, Dio added, “Sneaking into my bed at night after Father has gone to sleep isn't something you've thought about?”
A renewed flush colored his cheeks. Dio was incredibly skilled at deflecting his desires in conversation but the proposed notion of a continued sexual relationship, even in secret, signaled a reciprocation of Jonathan’s affections. Was it a betrayal of his father’s trust to travel down this path? No, there was nothing inherent in a nighttime tryst with Dio that made it more perverse than if he pursued such a thing with another. And yet...
“Something like that… is that really okay?” he asked.
“Is that really okay? ” Dio mocked him in a whiny, childish tone. “I don't think your concern lies in morality when you've been tossing off to the perverted act of spying on me unawares.”
Jonathan’s chest tightened at Dio’s expression of derision and he let his gaze drop to his lap.
“Sweet, sheltered Jonathan,” Dio said mockingly, reaching up to cup the boy’s cheek in his hand. “You’re never going to be the same after this, you know. You might as well make use of it.”
Jonathan acted without thinking, mind hazy in some state of post-orgasm stupidity. In a desire to show his housemate that the night had been more to him than a wanton pursuit of pleasure, that he cared for him deeply, he reached up to cover Dio’s hand with his own. Pressing the boy’s palm against his face, the young Joestar looked up at him with doe-eyed tenderness, hoping that somehow his feelings could be imbued through his skin without him having to give a voice to them. He watched Dio’s confident facade vanish before him as his eyes went wide.
The incredulous furrow of his brow expressed more discomfort at the soft touch than with anything else that had happened in Jonathan’s bed that night. Jerking his hand away, Dio set about to fishing his drawers out from underneath the covers. He pointedly looked away from his housemate as he tugged them back on but his cheeks burned as red as they had been when the two were groping each other. Jonathan had known Dio long enough to be able to discern the minutiae of his emotions, to know when he was truly angry and when his anger was a cover for something else. And this? Anger without any real direction, spitting fire at whoever may be in his way as his face grew hot was embarrassment . Dio had liked Jonathan’s tender touch and was loath to admit it.
“Good night, Jojo,” he huffed, turning onto his side and yanking the blanket back over his shoulders.
Jonathan had to suppress a fond laugh as he settled into bed next to him. Here he was, fretting about overstepping his bounds in the already precarious relationship he had with Dio Brando, when the warm press of his palm against the boy’s hand was enough to overwhelm him with emotion so strong that he had cocooned himself into a blanket. He turned his head to look over at the ball Dio had curled himself up in. His blonde hair, tousled from their romp, stuck out every which way and between his golden curls Jonathan could see that the tips of his ears were red with embarrassment. Dio put on a convincing front of worldliness, but he possessed no better handle on his intimate desires than Jonathan did. It was charming, in a way, that someone so socially and academically accomplished could be undone with the slightest of touches.
Jonathan slowly extended his arm across the expanse of sheet between them, curling the fingers of his hand so that his knuckles brushed against Dio’s back. At once, his body tensed and Jonathan feared that he would pull away but after a long moment, he relaxed into the touch. The young Joestar knew better than to push his luck by rubbing his back so he just let his hand sit as a soft, comforting weight against him.
As he watched the thin white fabric that framed his hand shift with the rhythm of Dio’s breath, Jonathan mulled over what he had said. It was true that acting on his desire meant that the relationship between the two of them would never be the same again. He would forever see Dio in a different light— their cooldowns after practice fraught with sexual energy, their time alone together tense with the knowledge of what occurred between them that night and perhaps, the desire to repeat it. But that was okay. Jonathan’s eyelids grew heavy as he watched the slow, hypnotic sway of the curtains that framed his bedroom window. It would all be okay because despite the air of detachment he displayed, this experience had changed Dio as much as it had changed him. The boy’s breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep with Jonathan’s hand still nestled against his back, and he knew that no matter what came after this, Dio would never be the same again either.