Work Text:
1881
Jonathan Joestar’s life had been ruined.
It wasn’t a matter of opinion. It was a fact. Everything had been taken from him. His friends, his father’s adoration. His woman had been torn from his fingers. And Danny, poor Danny, had lost his life. Even the servants no longer looked upon him fondly, preferring instead their new golden child.
Dio. Everything had been of his crafting. He had turned everyone against Jojo, and left him with nothing. Even the photograph of his mother which Jojo kept in his room had disappeared, and he knew who the culprit was.
The past six months had been hellish, an eternity spent alone, battling against the wicked blond, but Jojo had one thing left to look forward to. It was December, and the Christmas ball would soon be upon them, the party he and father attended annually to celebrate the season with their wealthiest neighbors. It was the one shred of light left in this dim world: Christmas. Not even Dio could ruin that. To Jonathan’s great joy, there was only one week left until the ball.
To his great displeasure, he was informed that Dio would be attending with them.
“Dio is as much a part of this family as you and I. I consider him my own son,” George Joestar said, staring sternly at his son over the top of his leather bound book. “Of course he will be going with us. To leave him alone on Christmas would be un-Christian, Jojo.”
Jojo waited to cry until he was back in his room. Father did so hate when he bawled. He hated even more when he criticized Dio.
The week leading up to the party passed too quickly. The days sped by, even when Jojo tried to stretch them out by doing nothing. All too soon, the Christmas ball would be upon them, and Dio would have yet another chance to humiliate and ruin him, and wreck Christmas for him forever.
And the blond seemed to know it. He had been incredibly smug since learning of the party, no doubt looking forward to thrashing Jojo socially again. He kept shooting Jonathan little looks, making snide little remarks- “Oh, Jojo, have you decided what you’ll wear to the ball yet? I have.” “Looking forward to the Christmas party, Jojo? I certainly am.”
It was infuriating. Christmas was the last good thing Jojo had. Even if the other children there would have nothing to do with him, he’d hoped to enjoy himself and dance with a few girls, but those plans were nothing to look forward to now. Dio would find a way to ruin things.
He always did.
--
The days passed, and Christmas Eve was upon them. Jonathan considered playing sick and staying home- he’d rather be miserable and alone than miserable with Dio- but the maids would have none of it and shooed him from his bed, tearing away the blankets so he’d have no warm place to return to.
He dressed in the clothes father had bought him for the party and headed downstairs for breakfast. Father and Dio had already eaten and moved on, leaving him alone at the table. How fitting, he thought, to be alone on Christmas Eve, with only scraps to eat. How tragic. If they bothered to look for his corpse come evening, they’d find his cold face streaked with tears!
He ate ravenously and presented himself in the study for Father to see that he was still alive. Father praised him for looking so gentlemanly, and Jojo felt pride swell up inside him.
“In fact,” Father said, “you both look like perfect gentlemen.” He clasped a hand on Dio’s shoulder, praising him too.
Jojo deflated.
They left in the carriage at noon, bundled up in coats and muffs against the chill. Dio and Jonathan sat on one side of the carriage, facing backwards, pressed up against one another. Jojo wished he was sat alone, like father- alone like always! That would be better than sitting next to awful rotten Dio.
He stewed the whole way to the party, subtly elbowing Dio back every time the blond nudged him in the side, the two of them fighting for dominance over the centerline of the carriage. Father took no notice, though he chatted easily with Dio about the boy’s Christmas experiences.
“Have you ever been to a ball, Dio?” Father asked as their carriage pulled up the road to the manse.
“No, I’ve not. I’m afraid I’ve never really celebrated Christmas, Father,” Dio said, looking very much the part of the poor, sad orphan.
“How dreadful!” Father said. “I am sure you will love it. Jojo, I expect you to stay with Dio and ensure that he has a good time. It’s his first Christmas.”
Jojo wanted to cry again, and he almost did, but their carriage stopped. The coachman stepped down and opened the door to the cold, folding out the step, and Jojo hopped out, eager to be away from Dio. If past Christmases were any indication, Father would be busy socializing all night, and would take no notice if he ditched Dio in the first five minutes of the party.
Dio, sensing his plan, stuck to his side like a particularly nasty thorn.
At every turn, Dio was there, smiling like the pretty little angel everyone took him for: “Why, Jojo, didn’t Father say we should stick together? Why don’t you introduce me to everyone?” Jojo huffed at him and fought back sad, angry tears as he introduced Dio to the other children. Most of them already knew him. They already loved him.
“Dio!” they all greeted him, “good man, good man.” “Happy Christmas, Dio!” “Good to see you, Dio!” “You’re with that rotten Jojo again? Ditch him, come with us!”
Jojo hoped Dio might stay with his friends the whole night and forget about him, but the blond had other plans. “Let’s go, Jojo,” he whispered, when the other boys had moved on from talking about him, “show me around.”
The night was a blur, and not just because of his tears. Jonathan tried to ask a girl to dance, and Dio swept her away, impressing all the adults with his charm and dancing skills. Jojo managed to trip over his own feet walking away and got scolded. He tried to sneak snacks and Dio ratted him out; tried to chat with some neutral children and Dio swooped in. He tried hiding in the drawing room to have a good cry and feel sorry for himself, and Dio found him.
Dio Dio Dio. Dio was everywhere.
The idea to fake ill came up again, and Jojo went in search of Father to pretend to have a fever. He found him in the main hall, talking with his male friends, and tugged on his sleeve.
“Father,” he simpered, “I’m not feeling well.”
“Not now, Jonathan,” Father scolded.
“Adults are speaking,” one of the older men said, peering down at him. “Children should remain in the children’s room.”
Frustrated, Jojo turned to leave, and Dio was there, grinning at him. Jojo scowled and pushed past him, returning to the ballroom, and Dio ran after him, grabbing his sleeve.
Jonathan couldn’t take any more of this. He spun around and shoved at Dio with a shout that turned heads across the room. “Leave me alone! Can’t you see you aren’t wanted here?”
Dio shoved him back, a dangerous look on his face, and Jojo threw a punch, and then both of them were a tangle of limbs and sharp jabs to the face. Ladies gasped and screamed in horror at the sight. Dio’s friends at the edge of the ballroom cheered him on. Dio punched Jonathan in the gut, and Jonathan kneed him in the groin, and Dio doubled over and hauled Jojo down with him, and Jojo bit his hand, and the both of them screamed and fought like no one was watching.
Finally two men pulled them apart, kicking and shouting, and the crowd made room as George Joestar made his way towards them. “Boys,” he gasped, clearly shocked by their behavior, “I am shocked by your behavior. I will have no more of this.” The men restraining them passed them off to Father, and Father hauled them away by their ears, ignoring their cries of pain.
He led them outside into the snow, to where the carriages were waiting, coachmen smoking in the cold, turned, and slapped the both of them, once each. Dio was sobbing, the crybaby, and Jonathan tasted blood on his lip.
“I have never been so humiliated,” Father informed them. “The both of you have severely disappointed me tonight. Dio, I expected better of you. And Jonathan- I thought that I knew my son, but clearly I do not.”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Dio snivelled, snot running from his nose. Jonathan stood resolute, unwilling to cry in front of either of them now. There’d be no tears on his corpse tonight.
“We are returning home. The both of you are to be punished. There will be no Christmas presents or Christmas feast tomorrow.” Jonathan gasped despite himself. Father had never been so harsh to him before. This, too, was Dio’s doing.
“I hope you’re both happy,” Father said as they climbed into the carriage. Dio cried the whole way home.
--
1882
It was nearly Christmas again, and Dio was preparing. For weeks he had been sucking up to the Lord Joestar, buttering him up for the upcoming party. It was to be held at the Denholm’s mansion this year, and the spread was rumored to be huge. The other children had looked sadly at Dio as they told him this, like they already pitied him. Like they thought he wouldn’t be at the party this year.
Oh, but Dio was going. He had spent the whole year reproving himself to George Joestar, re-earning himself a spot on the guest list.
Jonathan had ruined Christmas once. He would not let him do it again.
There were two things Dio could do this year: two paths he could take. He could have a repeat of last year, no doubt fight with Jojo again, as they were wont to do every few weeks, like clockwork it seemed, and be dragged away crying once again. Or he could avoid and ignore Jojo the entire night- which would be no doubt incredibly boring, but better than spending the night at home with bruises on his face and disappointment weighing heavy in his heart.
He stood outside Jonathan’s door, already sure of what he was going to do. He knocked, then pushed the door open, letting himself in. Jonathan looked up, having been lost in thought, and leapt to his feet, on the defensive already. Dio did so like to startle him like that.
“Jojo,” he said cooly, letting himself into the other boy’s quarters, “you’re looking well.”
“Dio,” Jonathan greeted him, slowly sitting back down. “I see you’ve let yourself in.”
“I’ll make this quick,” Dio said, “last year’s Christmas party was a disaster.” Jonathan blinked at him, surprised. He had just been thinking the same thing.
“I won’t be having a repeat of it,” Dio continued, echoing what Father had told them just days ago. “Tomorrow night, you and I will go to the party, and we will see not a single hair of each other. You’re not to speak to me, and you’re not to enter the same room as me. If I catch even a glimpse of you while I’m at that party, I’ll beat you bloody come New Years.”
“You want me to… leave you alone?” Jonathan asked. Last year Dio had stuck to him like a burr. Now he was going to be free of the blond monster?
“Don’t make me repeat myself. I do so hate talking to morons,” Dio said. “You stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you.” They wouldn’t fight, they wouldn’t be scolded or slapped again, and they’d get their presents and dinner come Christmas.
Jojo’s face slowly lit up with joy. A whole night at his favorite event, separated from Dio. “You have a deal,” he said, holding out his hand to shake on it.
“Excellent,” Dio purred, “We have a truce.”
--
The carriage rolled to a stop and the coachman opened the door to let the Joestars (and Mr. Brando) out into the snow. Jonathan hopped down and ran around to the horses to pet their noses and feed them sugar cubes, while Dio hung back near Father.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight,” George told them as they walked towards the grand front doors of the Denholm’s mansion. “Last year’s scuffle is a thing of the past. You two are good friends now, right?”
Jonathan and Dio glanced at each other. Dio gagged subtly. “Right,” they echoed, looking away hurriedly.
Like last year, the children were escorted to the children’s room to meet their friends and stay out of trouble and out of sight- not that they didn’t all slip out once in awhile to have some real fun. Dio’s friends cheered and waved him over, and he lifted a hand in greeting as he approached, leaving Jonathan’s side. Jonathan hung back, looking around at the other children. There were more girls than boys this year, and they gaggled together, playing with dolls and picking out potential husbands from the male children. A few girls looked his way and giggled, and Jonathan blushed and scuffed the lush carpet with the toe of his shoe. He couldn’t tell if they were mocking him or flirting with him. Possibly both.
With no boys to play with himself, Jojo wandered out of the children’s room and to the ballroom. The dancing was a sight to behold. Women wore their finest dresses to this event, made of fabrics rich and thick as tapestries. The men wore a step up from their Sunday best, new suits with deep black bowties and ruffled fronts. A pair of little girls darted between the legs of the dancers, either dancing themselves or playing tag. Jonathan frowned at them for interrupting such a beautiful scene.
“Are you having fun?” A voice asked above him, and Jonathan looked up into the young lady Denholm’s sparkling eyes. He nodded and bowed simultaneously, and she giggled and curtsied. Jojo had never met her before, but he knew Aldora was unmarried, and too old to be so. But she still had a charm about her, a kind of quirky beauty that had no doubt turned away some less gentlemanly bachelors. She wore a lovely cream regency dress, and her strawberry blonde hair was pinned up, though some stubborn curls hung down around her face and neck.
“Would you care to dance?” She asked, and Jonathan’s face lit up with excitement.
“I’d love to,” he breathed, and Aldora laughed and led him onto the dancefloor. Jonathan reached up to put his hand on her back- curses, but he was still shorter than women were- and they joined in the waltz in progress. Jonathan tried to lead, but Aldora was headstrong and bigger than him, and he soon found himself being led in the woman’s part as she spun him across the floor, dancing out of step with the rest of the adults.
For the first time in what felt like months, Jojo found himself laughing. He hadn’t had this much fun since- well, not since Dio had come along and ruined everything for him. But Dio couldn’t take this from him, this dance that the two of them shared, and Jojo laughed again at the thought. Aldora laughed with him, dipping him low to the floor, her small bosom bulging against her dress as she bent over.
Eventually a man stepped in, no doubt Aldora’s suitor, and she kissed Jonathan’s cheek before parting with him. Jonathan glowed with pride, that he had received a kiss from an Adult woman- never mind that he was still just a Child to her, he had gotten a kiss, and Dio was in the children’s room with his dull, vulgar friends, lifting up girls’ dresses.
A few younger girls asked him to dance that night, but nothing quite compared to the feeling of dancing with an Adult; Jonathan turned them all down for second dances, citing that he was a bit tired from all the excitement, and politely excused himself from the dancefloor in time.
Dinner was still being prepared for the evening, but Jonathan slipped through the dining hall on his way back, snagging a roll and some sweeties from the spread. Servants laughed and playfully chased him out, back towards the children’s room, where he went with his prize.
The smaller girls gathered around as he entered the room, sensing or perhaps smelling the sweets he had brought back with him, and he graciously doled them out among the littler ladies, saving none for himself. He munched on his roll, only glancing at Dio, who glanced back at him. Tonight had been good, he thought. It had been fun. It felt normal.
The children’s gift exchange began, and each of the kids received a gift to take home with them. Jonathan sat with his box, unopened, too mature to take pleasure in tearing it apart just yet. No, he’d do that the second he got in the carriage, but not in front of the impressionable little kids. To his surprise, Dio made his way over, and Jonathan felt his face fall. He had been having such fun, too.
“I don’t care if you beat me on New Year’s Day, Dio,” he said, nose in the air, “I’m having a grand time tonight, and I’ll not leave the gift exchange until it’s over.”
Dio blinked at him, and sat down beside the Joestar boy. “You’re having fun?” he asked, and Jonathan nodded. “I’m not. It’s been as dull a night as ever.”
“What about your friends?” Jonathan asked, looking past Dio at the other boys. They were all clamoring to get a look up the tree angel’s wooden skirt to check for genitalia.
“They’re all idiots, Jojo, you know that.” Dio sighed and set down his gift, also still unwrapped. “I had more fun tagging along last year than I did tonight.”
Jojo frowned, looking down at the box in his lap. Should he ruin his own night to satisfy Dio’s craving for entertainment? “You could… come with me, if you’d like. I was going to go back to the ballroom and dance some more…”
“With you?” Dio wrinkled his nose. “Jojo, I think not. I would rather be stuck with these bumbling buffoons than accompany you to the dance floor.”
“I didn’t mean together!” Jonathan cried, “I meant with girls, and women!”
Dio scoffed at him. “And what woman would have you, Jonathan,” he laughed, excusing himself rudely from the conversation. He returned to his goons, and they proudly showed him the angel they had nabbed from the tree.
Jonathan returned alone to the ballroom, fuming, but glad to be away from Dio again all the same. He looked for Aldora, but she was nowhere to be seen. The girls who asked him to dance were regretfully turned down. Jonathan wandered out of the ballroom and into the back end of the house. Perhaps he’d retire to the drawing room and open his present early after all.
He cracked open the door to the drawing room and made to slip inside, but a noise stopped him. A woman’s groan- of pain?- resonated about the room and reached him at the door. Jonathan gasped, alarmed, and started to step inside, but the sound came again, and he realized what he was listening to. He froze in the doorway, embarrassed, and tried not to look at Aldora and her suitor as they made love on the wide table. Her skirts were hiked up around her waist, and the man’s trousers pushed down so that his arse hung out. Jonathan subtly backed up and made to close the door, but stopped at the last second. He couldn’t help that he was curious.
He stood there for a while, watching through the cracked door, until the man finished and rolled off of Aldora. Then he fled, present in hand, back to the festivities. He would tell no one what he had seen.
--
1883
They were fifteen now, and nearly adults by his count. Not that he was counting. Dio examined himself in the mirror, smoothing out his unruly golden hair and patting down his chest. He had had a growth spurt this year, nearly catching him up to Jonathan in height and weight, and he looked quite dashing in his new suit, broad chested and thick. He looked like a real man.
Now that he was fifteen, he had decided, he had no interest in the festivities that the younger children took part in. He had long lost interest in the vulgar practices of his baboonish friends either, so he had decided to take this party solo. He’d dance with some high society women tonight, dine with the adults, if Father so allowed it, and retire late, like a real grown up.
He met Father and Jonathan down in the hall and the three of them headed outside to the carriage for the long ride to the Remington’s estate.
--
This year, instead of heading straight to the children’s room, Dio made for the ballroom. He and Jonathan had renewed their truce this year, and so while Jonathan followed him to the dance floor, neither of them spoke to each other. It was like they were strangers, just for one night.
They both escorted eligible young women to the floor, and spun around in their suits and dresses to the conductor’s wand. Dio took little interest in the way his woman chattered at him, and soon excused himself to find another partner. The next girl was much softer, more demure, and they stayed together for several dances, to her mother’s delight. (She wouldn’t be so delighted to learn that Dio was that adopted London boy, but that would come later.)
Finally, Dio had to excuse himself from the dance entirely, too pink-faced and out of breath to keep going. He dropped himself into a chair at the edge of the ballroom and dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, not noticing who he had sat himself next to.
“Hello, Dio,” Jojo said, looking over at him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Quite,” Dio said, tucking his handkerchief away in his breast pocket. “And you?”
“I’m having a wonderful time,” Jonathan said. “I got us our presents too.” He held up two boxes, one larger, one smaller. The smaller one he no doubt intended for Dio, but Dio would have no part in something so childish as a gift exchange- and besides, he, Dio, deserved the larger box anyway.
Jonathan looked back out at the dancers, spinning around the ballroom, and Dio watched him out of the corner of his eye. This was the one time of year when Jonathan seemed truly happy, and while Dio didn’t like that, he could see why. This party was a truly wonderful evening. Wonderful things happened here. Special things, secret things, adult things too.
“Jojo,” Dio said, chewing his words slowly, “would you like to go have some fun?”
--
They stole a bottle of brandy from the larder and the two of them camped out in the music room, hiding under the grand piano. Dio took the first long drink, as he was more daring and more deserving, and Jonathan took a small, reserved sip after him. They both tried to hide the disgusted faces they made at the strong, sweet taste.
“It’s a very,” cough, “unique flavor,” Dio said, holding up the bottle to pretend to examine it. He took another sip and coughed again, then passed the bottle back to Jojo. Jonathan took another sip, then a longer one, and had to be thumped on the back to cease his barking.
“It’s so sweet,” Jonathan said, eyes watering a bit, “but so…”
“Alcoholic,” Dio finished for him. “I suppose this is what adults enjoy.” They both stewed in that; if they were to be men, they’d have to drink this stuff regularly. Jojo sniffled. They had had wine before, plenty of it, but brandy was a bit much for him.
They finished the bottle together, one disgusted drink at a time, and sat giggling together under the piano in their knowledge that they’d done something bad. Jonathan had begun to feel lightheaded, and Dio was sweating, tugging at his clothes to loosen them, enough to tear the collar of his new suit. He gaped at the sudden rip, shocked, and Jojo fell over laughing, nearly bashing his head open on the leg of the piano.
They played with the empty bottle, spinning it around on the floor and balancing it on their heads until it fell off and smashed, and then they ran, red-faced and giddy from the music room to hide in the library. The servants would find them there later, curled up under a desk, the two of them fast asleep.
--
1884
For the first time since Mary Joestar’s untimely death, the Christmas party was to be held at the Joestar manor. The servants had, as such, been busy all week preparing; cleaning, decorating, cooking, and readying for the richest of the rich to be in the house.
Dio and Jonathan were 16 now, men both of them, and they no longer brawled or fought over trivial things. Though they were still not close as brothers, the two were able to coexist in the Joestar manor. They prepared for the party in their separate quarters and met in the hallway to look each other over.
“I think we look quite dashing,” Jonathan said, adjusting his bowtie. If Dio disagreed, he said nothing. They headed down the stairs together into the foyer, where they stood waiting with father for the guests to arrive.
Carriages began to roll up around seven, and noblemen and women piled out with their children, entering the Joestar manor. The children were herded into a parlor out of the way to play and exchange gifts like they did every year, while the adults mingled and drank.
Jojo and Dio were now too old for the children’s room, and they stayed out of it entirely. Some of the children who remembered them from previous years came out to say hello, before they were ushered back to the parlor, and Dio’s blaggard friends hung around him at the edge of the ballroom. They were in Dio’s house, so they all behaved, suddenly too well mannered for their usual rowdy, bawdy ways. Or perhaps they had actually matured somewhat as a group, for they invited Jonathan to drink and dine with them.
Jojo saw Aldora dancing again, though she was a married woman now, and a mother, and she couldn’t dance with him anymore. Instead, he accompanied a young brunette woman to the floor and waltzed with her, dancing the man’s part this time. They stayed together until they were out of breath and sweaty, and then her chaperone called her away to freshen up, and Jojo wandered in search of entertainment.
He found Dio in the hallway, watching the dancers from the shadows. “What are you doing, Dio?” he asked, stopping next to the other boy. “Are you going to dance?”
“Not with any of those people,” Dio sneered, apparently in a mood. Perhaps his friends had done something disrespectful.
“Isn’t there anyone you’d like to court out there? There are a lot of girls out there our age, you know.”
“I’m not interested in them,” Dio said, sticking his pointed nose in the air. Jojo laughed.
“Well you have to get married someday!”
“Then I’ll marry a man, I suppose.”
“Dio,” Jojo said, his name soft on his lips. “That’s illegal.”
“Come now Jojo, dance with me. I’m feeling a bit of buggery coming on.”
“Dio!” Jonathan laughed as his adopted brother took his hands and led him in the next dance. They spun around in the dark, occasionally stepping on each other’s toes, Jonathan humming to the tune of the orchestra’s song.
Dio watched him as they danced. The light from the ballroom shone around Jojo’s head like a halo, illuminating him from the back. The brunette smiled and laughed, eyes closed. Dio pulled him closer and the two of them swayed, chuckling softly, nervously.
Something had changed. Nothing had happened, but in an instant, everything was different. Dio pulled away abruptly, and Jojo straightened up, smoothing out his suit. “I have to… be somewhere,” Jojo said lamely, and Dio nodded, mouth too dry to make his own excuse.
. Despite living in the same wing of the house, they didn’t see each other again that night. Last Dio heard, Jojo was dancing with the Harrington girl again, spinning her round and round the ballroom.
--
1885
The Livingstone estate was massive. Baron Linvingstone had his fingers in India and had made a fortune in his lifetime. They were new money, but they were respectable, and everyone had been curious to see their property.
Dio could not care less.
The past year had been confusing. Since the night they danced together, Dio’s relationship with Jonathan had been…
Uncomfortable.
Jojo definitely hadn’t felt it, but Dio had. Something had sparked within him, something dormant had awakened, and nothing had been the same. He was furious. How dare that scum, lower than dog shit, make his heart flutter and pound at his whim? It wasn’t fair, that he, Dio, be so affected by every smile, every laugh, every tilt of his head and flick of his hand.
It was disgusting.
Dio sipped his brandy, watching Jonathan from across the ballroom. He had been watching the Joestar boy all night, from his corner. The girls, at this point, knew better than to ask him to dance. He had only ever done it to spite Jonathan, anyway.
Jojo must have seen him looking, because the next thing he knew, the brunette was there by his side. “Feeling lonely?” Jojo asked, taking a seat beside his adopted brother. Dio shrugged.
“Feeling bored, mostly,” he said, draining the rest of his brandy. A servant appeared to refill his glass and Dio waved him off. He had had enough already.
“It’s not quite so fun as an adult, is it?” Jojo said, sympathetically. “I think I had more fun doing the gift exchange than anything else.” Dio rolled his shoulders again, the picture of apathy.
A young lady approached, the same blonde Jonathan had been chatting with, and shyly asked his brother to dance. Jonathan politely refused, and the girl excused herself, returning with her chaperone to find another partner. Perhaps it was all the brandy, but Dio scowled. How dare that wench talk to what was rightfully his?
“Let’s go, Jojo,” Dio said, standing. Jonathan followed suit, confused, as Dio led the way out of the ballroom and further and further away from the party.
“Where are we going?” he asked, once they had left the manor.
“Are you going to tell me?” Jojo called, hurrying after Dio as he stomped through the snow.
“Dio, you’ll freeze!” he yelled, catching up and wrapping his arms around the blonde at the storehouse door. Dio scowled at him. No concern for himself, the idiot.
Dio opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it open for Jonathan to follow. He did, and shut it behind them, leaving them in pitch darkness.
“Dio, where are you?” Jojo whispered, waving his arms around to feel for the other. Dio rolled his eyes and stepped closer, so that Jonathan’s hands landed on his chest and shoulder. “Oh! Now, what are we doing out here?”
Dio licked his lips. How long had he been waiting for this. A year, at least. Maybe much longer- it was hard to say anymore. “I want something from you, Jojo,” he said softly, leaning in.
“What is it?” Jonathan whispered back, when Dio’s lips were a centimeter from his. Dio was silent, but leaned closer and pressed their lips firmly together, sealing them in a kiss.
Jojo was still and silent. He let Dio kiss him, unmoving, until the blond had had his fill and finally leaned back again. Then, softly, he said, “Dio, we can’t do this.”
“Why not,” Dio laughed, kissing him again.
“It’s- it’s not legal!”
“Don’t lecture me about legal. I’m the one going into law.”
“It’s not right!”
“Right and wrong- you know I don’t care about that.” Dio kissed him a third time, and tilted his head to bite Jonathan’s neck. “I want you.”
“Ouch! Dio, we mustn’t!”
“Oh, but we must.”
“I’ll tell Father!”
“You won’t, and you know you won’t. You want me as much as I want you.” He didn’t know that for sure, but Jojo suddenly stopped talking and closed his mouth, which may as well have been a signed and sealed confession.
“I think I’m in love with you, Jojo,” Dio whispered, nibbling on his earlobe. “Do you know what that feels like?”
He did.
--
1886
“I shall return at midnight,” Father said to Dio, pulling on his coat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. “Please, see to it that Jojo isn’t up and running about all night. He needs to rest so his fever can go down.”
“I’ll make sure he does, Father,” Dio assured the older man. “I shan’t leave his side until his fever breaks.”
Father thanked him and left, and Dio climbed the stairs to the second floor. They were eighteen now, and home from university to spend the holiday with father. Jojo had fallen into a pond on their trip home, and had fallen terribly ill. Now he lay in bed, nursing a high fever and mumbling deliriously to whomever would listen- mainly Dio.
“Brother,” Dio called, entering Jojo’s quarters again, “I’m back. Father has left.”
Jojo blinked at him blearily, face flushed and forehead wet with sweat. “Father..?” he asked dumbly, too fevered to know what Dio was talking about.
The blond knelt by his bed and kissed his warm cheek. “I’m missing a party because of you,” he sighed, stroking his hand through Jojo’s sweaty hair. “Who knows what kind of fun I’m losing out on. Because of you.”
Jojo groaned and closed his eyes, head pounding. When he opened them, Dio had moved to sit on the bed beside him and stroke his hair.
“Dio,” Jojo rasped, “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the party?” Dio chuckled. The poor fool wasn’t listening to him at all.
“I should, and you’ve ruined it for me.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Hush. I don’t care about the party.” It was only fun when Jojo was there. He didn’t say that part out loud. “Are you feeling better?”
“Almost,” Jojo whined, rolling over onto his side to face him. “Will you hold me, Dio?”
The blond huffed and rolled his eyes as if he’d been asked to do a terribly inconvenient thing, and laid down on the bed beside Jonathan. He wrapped an arm around the other man, pressing another kiss to his face.
“Oh… Dio, stop, you’ll get sick too,” Jonathan realized, but the blond held on firmly.
“I don’t care. You can’t tell me what to do with myself, Jojo. I’ll hold you til we both die, if I must.”
“Don’t say that,” Jojo whispered, “I don’t want you to die.”
Dio laughed. Of course Jonathan would worry most about him.
“Believe you me, I’ll outlive you for fifty- no, at least a hundred years.” He laid his head down and closed his eyes, surprised to find himself tired. It wasn’t that late.
“That’s impossible,” Jojo croaked sleepily, pressing his face into Dio’s chest. The rest of his words were too muffled to make out.
The two of them fell asleep like that, cuddled up together in Jonathan’s bed. Come morning, Dio would find himself terribly ill, and Jonathan would be feeling healthy and energetic as a newborn pup, and Dio would hate him for it.
Not really. He couldn’t really hate him, anymore.
1887
Jonathan peered out the window at the heavy snowfall, careful not to lean too close to the cold glass and give himself a chill. It was Christmas Eve again, and he was missing another Christmas party, for the second year in a row.
He stood and left the window, wandering aimlessly through their flat, bored beyond measure. Father paid the rent every month, but it was their place, his and Dio’s little home that they had made together.
Dio… the blond returned from the larder with coffee, and set about brewing it for both of them. Jojo wished they had hot chocolate, but he supposed that coffee was the more adult thing to drink anyway. He still worried about that. Being an adult.
Dio brought him his cup and he took it gratefully, taking a long sip of the hot, bitter stuff. He didn’t particularly care for it, but it was warm, and the night was cold.
They sat together on the sofa, huddled for warmth, sipping their coffee. Jojo slung an arm around Dio’s neck and kissed his cheek, and Dio chuckled, like he was remembering something funny.
“We don’t have much longer like this, do we?” Jojo asked, resting his head on Dio’s shoulder. They would both be graduating soon. He would go on an archaeological expedition, and probably be married. Dio would do whatever it was lawyers did in London. He had been thinking about it a lot, lately.
There just wasn’t enough time left for them.
“No, we don’t,” Dio said simply, knocking his head gently against Jojo’s. “We might not even see each other after this.”
“Oh, Dio, don’t say that.”
“I suppose we’ll both go home after the last game, and then I’ll be off to work, and you’ll be off having your fun in the dirt.”
“Say we’ll be together again.”
“Maybe.” Dio took another sip. “Maybe I’ll tag along on your honeymoon, ruin the trip for you.”
“I might not get married. There’s no telling what the future holds.”
“Oh, shut up. You’ve always wanted a wife and some kids.” Dio gulped the rest of his coffee down and made Jojo hold the empty cup for him.
“Do you think…” Jonathan gulped. “Do you think you and I will still be together ?”
Dio stared at him. He’d never considered anything else. “Jojo,” he said, “you and I are bound by fate. We will always be one, you great fool.”
Jonathan laughed in relief, and Dio quirked a smile at him. The two of them spent the night together like that, curled together on the sofa, drinking and laughing, thinking of the past and the future.
There was no telling what it might hold.