Work Text:
Dio’s lips were warm and wet when he kissed Jonathan, that was his first thought. Though to say he was thinking right now may have been giving him too much credit; with eyes wide and mouth ajar, giving Dio perfect opportunity to slips his tongue in and turn it about inside, dextrous and pressing, Jonathan’s mental clarity was nowhere near its paramount.
Pushed against the library bookshelf, Dio’s leg pushed between the centre of his own, he had him cornered. There were words spoken between them before it happened, but Jonathan had forgotten them now, caught up in the moment, the actions alone. A couple of books fell onto the ground in Jonathan backward lurch and Dio’s hardened pressed forward, but the clunk of sound was practically muted, all his senses absorbed in the feeling of Dio’s hands gripping his shirt and tugging him in, closer and closer still.
When they broke apart it was Jonathan’s doing, awareness taking over as he tore their lips apart, wiping away the trail of saliva that fell in a line down his chin and damped his mouth all over with a buttoned white sleeve. His body quaked, his gaze wide then narrow, making himself appear as abhorred as he should have done. Should have, being the foregrounded word.
“What game is this then? What are you planning Dio?!” he asked in a more of a shout than anything else, his voice echoing through the library’s expanse, fortunately with only the rows of texts to witness to it all. “Blackmail? Coercion? Is this your true colours showing? Finally?” Jonathan panted the words out, his head a flurry of stray thoughts trying to congregate in the fleeting few seconds
Dio blinked once, knee still pressing in on his groin and body posed with too much calmness. There was a haughtiness to his stance, and Jonathan spotted the curl of his lip, a tell like no other that he was enjoying this. What sick amusement could he be receiving? Had he planned this, how long?
“It is what it seems, Jojo.” Jonathan shook his head, ignoring just how like honeysuckle his voice sounded there, the lilting tone sending shockwaves down him that he refused to indulge in, lest he succumb. The knee at his crotch did not help with that, and he gave a silent groan when Dio shuffled, making him feel all too much.
“No. Nothing is what it seems with you, Dio. I know—” He was silenced with another kiss, harder this time, the clashing of teeth came before they finally locked in place, Dio tried to touch him again, and almost out of instinct Jonathan caught his wrists, holding them back despite their lips being locked together still.
In the tiny break they used to find air, Jonathan noticed Dio’s cheeks flush a colour so pink it was shocking, and he was stilted by just how beautiful he looked in those stray few seconds. A beauty that had been so vivid Jonathan despite himself could not help but have been struck by many times before. Too many times. He squeezed hard around Dio, still clutching him tightly. “You want to take away everything from me, don’t you?”
“Jojo, I—” Jonathan interrupted, not letting Dio’s snake of a tongue slither out of anything until he had said all that was within him.
In retaliation, a claim for dominance, Jonathan bit hard on his lip, barely realising the counter-productiveness of this. He was meant to be deterring Dio away from this, not inciting more, his motivations becoming hazy. He could have pushed him back further, they both knew who the stronger of the two were, physicality came to Jonathan naturally. He could have broken them apart, but he wasn’t, his clenched fists did nothing, in fact, they pulled upwards, over his head, giving Dio the opportunity to have them nearer, spurred on by the nip and giving Jonathan one of his own, their moans singing into the sloppy affection. Why was he letting this happen?
This time the kiss came to its natural end, Dio sneaking in two quick pecks and Jonathan one of his own, somehow making it a short contest of who would have the final strike. It was only then why
Jonathan brought his fingers to his lips and suddenly the monologue of accusations he had listed dissipated into nothing, and he faltered, only realising now that he had yet to breathe, his heart beating a mile a minute. He knew what Dio had done, but only now it was sinking in, and what it all meant. And with it, Jonathan faltered. “I-I don’t… why would kiss me?!”
“You kissed me back. And then kissed me yourself.” Jonathan imagined the blush on his own face, rising to the tips of his ears obvious for more reasons than one.
“I… That was just…” He could have denied it, but they both knew it was a lie. Dio took the opportunity to strike back in his blunder of words.
“Was that your first?” Dio asked with eyes wide and somewhat hopeful in the way they glinted in the light of the wall lanterns, flickering candles lit with oil, casting a deep orange against the pale of his face, complementary to those amber irises of his. “You weren’t bad for a first-timer.”
“What does that matter?” Shaking off the shyness in replacement for suspicion. He could not let Dio get to him, not now, or he would be caught like a fly in his brother’s invisible web. “You don’t even like me, so why would you do that?”
Dio stepped closer, hand reaching up to stroke Jonathan’s cheek, his approach slow, as if Jonathan were some sort of feral creature, and he was wishing to tame him with false kindness. He let it happen, but flinched upon the contact, the tips of Dio’s fingers cold, his palm warmer, cupping his cheeks.
There was a sudden, foreign and unwanted desire of Jonathan’s to lean in, flutter his lips shut and accept the gesture wholly, but he knew better than that. That was what Dio wanted… what he… no, Jonathan did not want that.
But while he did not cant his head and greet the embrace, he did not move from it. Why? Jonathan did not know. Or perhaps he did.
“You think I would kiss someone I did not desire?” Dio said so quietly it was only because they were so close that Jonathan heard him. But with resolve he answered plainly.
“You’ve done it before.” There was a challenge of stares them, unblinking, and both knew of what Jonathan spoke, a memory dark between the two of them, filled with fists and lips and girl who disappeared, never to be seen again. “Unless that was why you did it. That you wanted her—”
“Stop.” Jonathan for an instant feared his nails would become claws on his face, marring. But they didn’t. Dio slid his hand down, resting it within the crook of Jonathan’s neck, catching his jaw with the tips. “It is not like you to hold such a grudge, to harbour thoughts of a time long since passed. You would forgive all transgressions for others, and yet you will not for me. Your own brother?”
A funny word, brother. Jonathan despite any and all efforts had never seen Dio in that light. No, what he felt for Dio clearly was not something easy and fraternal. He wished that was all there was between them, he would have given anything to feel brotherly towards Dio. What truly amassed him was far more complicated than that.
“It is not about forgiveness, Dio.” Jonathan spoke in a voice quieter than he would have liked, meeker than he would have wanted, his fingers bent and curled into weak fists, blindly reaching for the wall behind him, anything to keep him sturdy and upright.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t… trust this…” he said. ‘I don’t trust you,’ he didn’t.
Dio scoffed, light, almost mocking when his lips curled up into a bitter smile and his body tensed; if he weren’t such a brilliant actor, Jonathan might have thought he looked hurt. It didn’t make the pang of guilt for that any less potent.
“In the last four years I have not given you reason to doubt me, and yet in all I do, Jojo, you push yourself away.” An ironic choice of words, Jonathan thought, for right now he was statue still. Dio was talking against Jonathan’s lips, he could feel the heat of his breath, the almost brush of their mouths against each other; it filled Jonathan’s own with wetness, and his mind fought with the desire to push forward, or the instinct throw himself back. He chose neither.
Their heights just about equal now, Jonathan for so long being significantly shorter in stature. He still was, a little, but the gap between them was small enough for nobody to notice, and the bulk Jonathan carried, softness becoming muscle gave him a definition of largeness Dio’s toned but svelte build could not quite match.
When Jonathan did not reply, Dio pushed on further, stroking his tanned skin. “And you do so push away, despite yourself. Or can you say you have never thought of this? Thought of me? Thought of us?”
“I-I…” Jonathan faltered turning his severe blue gaze away and cursing himself for it.
But Dio hadn’t been, wrong, and though the action was surprising, it was a climax that had been building up for quite some time now. Fray touches, conversations that almost seemed like flirting, long-lasting looks and heated moments where maybe something might have happened, that he may have even wanted something to happen.
And maybe in the recesses of his bedroom where trousers could have pulled down under a ton of blankets and a hanky was ready to catch whatever spilt, Jonathan had considered this. But they had been boyish thoughts, nothing more, a way to relieve any tensions he felt about Dio, anything he wasn’t supposed to ever let out, which seemed like all too much.
But this was how Dio worked, wasn’t it? With sweet words and implications, making Jonathan think and act against himself, and then convincing him, convincing everyone that he, Dio was an innocent party, never involved in the first place. And there was never anything anyone could do against him, he ensured all evidence was gone.
Jonathan could feel that now, Dio’s tactics at work. He could not let this happen. Taking the hand on his face, Jonathan brought it down slowly in an attempt to create a semblance of distance between them.
“I won’t tell Father about this,” he said, swallowing the dry lump in his throat. “Perhaps for my own sake as well as yours.” For all Jonathan’s love for the older Joestar, he wondered if he would ever believe the perfect son Dio, who could do no wrong in his eyes would have ever done anything. And with Dio’s sharp tongue, able to weasel out of any and all situations, it would likely only prove to be detrimental for Jonathan. “But with that let us act as if this never happened. I will let it slide.”
This time when Jonathan strove to push them apart he succeeded, forgetting his reason for being in the library in the first place and making his way out as quick as his legs could carry him.
Dio twisted round, calling back to him and Jonathan dared not look. “What must I do, brother? Must we live with this strain because you cannot get some sort of venomous thought of a Dio long since passed out of your head?”
There it was. And Jonathan could not disagree. It was despicable, he was despicable, not allowing all those things that he could barely remember and had no evidence for to cloud his judgement of Dio. He had been grieving the loss of his entire world, a twelve-year-old boy without a family thrust into a world he never knew before; it was no wonder he had acted out. What kind of cruel person was he to not let it go?
“I’m sorry, Dio…”
***
Jonathan did everything he could not to let the events in the library affect him, tried to cast the thoughts aside. But that proved just about as fruitless as an orange tree in the desert, and his mind was addled, over and over the kiss, the kisses, replayed in his head, haunted his dreams and his waking hours. He spent as little time in the house as possible when he knew Dio would be there too, and avoided any exchanges with his brother in the moments they were together, but Dio plagued him, he didn’t need to be there for Jonathan to feel like he was right beside him, hot breath and cool touches sliding against his body.
It was for the best, logically Jonathan knew that — to kiss a brother, to kiss a boy, to kiss Dio, all those brought about red flags and he would be a fool to have ignored them. He remembered the part of him that knew Dio had a darker side, one nobody else seemed to see. Maybe he was just imagining falseness in his nature, he may have been a sharp, ambitious and proud, but those were traits to be commended, traits even Jonathan himself found enamouring, however daunting.
But he also remembered the surge and flush that took him, made him want more. And in those thoughts, often he was smiling, wondering what could have happened if he had not walked away.
Why were his emotions so contradictory?
Jonathan stood at the entrance to Dio’s bedroom a few days later, all those contradictions running wild. He had considered knocking, and considered leaving, which brought him to an all about stand still for lingering minutes, his vision tunnelled.
“This is ridiculous,” Jonathan said, stepping back.
“Jojo, is that you?” The gasp that came next was loud and all too obvious and Jonathan froze with wide eyes, busted. He could hear a creak and the movement of feet and then the door was open, Dio standing there in all his radiance, a light smile, satisfied, smug, or maybe just glad plastered on his face. “Come in.”
A little stunned, Jonathan complied, not speaking until he was fully within the confines of Dio’s bedroom, door shut behind them. He felt like quite the caged bird. There was a trepidation in that, but also an exhilarant. But he fought it, barely, pushing out the words.
“I’m sorry, I do not know why I came here. I’ll go.”
“I am not too fond of that idea. And neither are you.” Jonathan hitched.
Dio’s hands latched themselves onto Jonathan’s hips as if they were about to engage in a waltz, pressing them pelvis to pelvis. Their chests mimicked the act, Dio sliding his way up Jonathan’s form with a grip that went through the flimsy fabric of his shirt.
“You have been avoiding me, Jojo. But you can’t any longer. Because you know why you came, and you know what you want.”
“I don’t--"
“Trust this? Me?” Jonathan did not answer, which told Dio plenty enough. But quicksilver made his tongue, and Dio’s words like silk began to spin, voice soft, supple, bringing Jonathan to shivers with that alone.
“Forget all about what you do not trust, Jojo. Trust what you do know.” He leaned in, nose brushing in the crook of his neck, lips following and giving him supple. “Trust the way your breath pants when we are close. Trust the way you lean into my caresses, your first instinct, not of thought, but of want is to fall into me.
“Dio…”
“Trust my lips upon your neck, trust how they make you shudder. Neither fangs nor jaws hide inside, I am not going to suck you dry or tear you apart. Only teeth and tongue and the puckers of my kisses against you there shall be.”
Like a puppet on a string, Jonathan found himself doing just that, tilting himself slightly, just slightly, and wishing for Dio to kiss there harder, suck and bite and make him feel.
“Trust the beat of my heart. Go on, feel it.” Dio took Jonathan’s hand and straightened it, unfastening the first few buttons of his shirt for access. Jonathan’s focussed between the pale expanse, the jutting collarbone and the shell of his ribcage and Dio’s intent stare, his pupils blown wide and dark, dripping in… something. Maybe it was the desire he claimed it was, or perhaps it was something darker, masking the truth, showing malicious intent.
Jonathan touched his heart, pushing against the left side of his torso. The thuds were elevated as if he were in the midst of a marathon. “Trust how it races. A compelling argument, no? If not mine, then trust your own.” Dio reached up, slowly slipping his hands under Jonathan’s loose shirt, definitely taking the opportunity to palm his abdominals before he found the beat of his chest. In Jonathan’s ears he could hear it, that loud, like a trample of elephants stampeding.
“Trust that. You know what you want.”
Jonathan didn’t know what he could believe, could not know if this, even this, was a part of Dio’s schemes; with him there were layers upon layers it would take him a lot longer than this to unravel.
“Admit it.”
But in all his doubts, this was undeniable.
“I want… you.”
“Then have me.”
And though they had kissed before, it felt new when the met again, Jonathan bridging the gap between them, closing his eyes and kissing Dio with everything he had, and there was a lot. A fervency was found in the entanglement, mutual, and fingers curled and fell both into blond hair and dark; tugging, pulling, clutching faces and brushing noses.
There were a lot of things Jonathan did not trust, but like Dio had said, some things could not be hidden. The way Dio whimpered, the sound so light it was foreign coming from him, the way he melted into Jonathan’s touch, not quite submissive but — offering, giving, he wanted it too. That much was true, in whatever way it manifested.
By the time they had brought themselves to a dizzying end, there was a silent knowledge that there would be far more than kissing to be had. Jonathan acted upon it first, untucking Dio’s shirt in the midst of their heavy petting, but having yet to act further. “Can I?”
“Of course,” Dio answered immediately. “I trust you, after all.” Though he spoke softly it was a blow and they both knew it. Jonathan’s brows furrowed meeting Dio’s eyes. Dio’s own narrowed, but it did not seem to be in malice in it.
The thought was shaken off when without prompt Dio pulled down his trousers and underwear in a doubled bout, kicking himself out of them with all the grace he was known to have and standing upright. Now he was completely nude while Jonathan was still clad in every layer he began with. His cock was half hard and growing, even when it was currently touched, and he stood with arms by his sides, palms facing Jonathan as an emphasis on his exposure.
“This is all of me, Jojo. Here I am, nothing to hide. It is skin and flesh, just as you are, trust and see for yourself how my body reacts to you.” Dio stepped forward one foot after the other, lacing his left hand with Jonathan’s own
“You’re beautiful.” Dio smiled.
“Touch me.” Jonathan did, his spare hand caressing over Dio’s neck, travelling down to his chest to squeeze and rub around the areola of his nipple, bringing low stutters and hitches to his brother’s breath, arousal pushing into his leg as a direct response.
“Kiss me.” Jonathan did that too, and Dio kissed him back, wet and long with eyes closed over, indulgent. Stepping back blindly the reached the bed, Jonathan safely guiding Dio down onto it, perched on the edge, while he remained standing, touching and moaning into each other.
When they parted again, only when their lips were red and swelling from copious friction, Dio took a moment to shuffle back further so his legs were completely on the bed. Placing his feet flat on the surface of the mattress, knees bent and spread, he pulled the cheeks of his rear apart and revealed his hole, puckering with anticipation. Jonathan throbbed hard in his trousers, the protrusion of his cock more than evident in his slacks, the outline of it thick and large. Dio took a long moment to stare at what lay behind the fabric before returning his way up to Jonathan’s face.
While Jonathan may not have had field experience, he had read, and seen, and acted enough times alone to know what to do without much guidance. Though he still remained clothed, he gave Dio the offering of his fingers, which Dio took quickly into his mouth sucking on and covering them in a healthy lathering of spit. His other hand made work on Jonathan’s trousers, slipping into his pants and pulling out his erection, stroking along with immediate pumps.
“Ohh, fuck, ” Jonathan said without meaning to, the crass word just slipping out, tangled in his pleasure. Dio bit down a little on his fingers, a smirk, amused on his lips; it took a great deal for Jonathan to swear.
He pulled out of Dio’s mouth, feeling the teeth against him before he moved down and rubbed against his entrance, prodding and teasing without meaning to drive Dio crazed with toe-curling want.
“Come on, Jojo put them inside. It won’t bite.” Though he demanded, desperation laced his tone in a way unfamiliar. Jonathan was fond of it, and so he teased him a little more, stretching the outside out, admiring how it grew and opened for him. He felt Dio slick inside, did he already prepare himself before? He relished in the whines and gasps Dio provided in return, and he felt his brother’s hips rut and grind against the fingers, craving friction. “Jojo, just— aaah.” Just before Dio got give him an angry snap Jonathan impaled his digits inside, two at once and gave Dio little chance to adapt as they pushed themselves all the way inside as far as they could reach.
Dio cried out loud, and Jonathan felt the hard clench around these two fingers alone, his cock twitching in anticipation for what he would soon be treated to. But he knew Dio needed to be stretched, he needed to be invited in. For all the times Dio could infuriate, it was not Jonathan’s desire to hurt him.
And so it was only after a thorough invasion, Jonathan scissoring Dio’s ass and widening his walls to provide a perfect view of his
“I’m ready, Jojo… put it in.” Jonathan did not need to be asked again, practically tearing off the remainder of his clothing, leaving him only in socks that ran up to his knees, Dio completely bare.
Joined together as one a myriad of thoughts, emotions circled through Jonathan all at once, and rather than find himself pulling away, withdrawing, he immediately, and without a gentle pace to start began to shove himself deep within Dio’s tight walls, feeling them pulse around him hot, clenching with friction. That only drove him into a further frenzy, panting hard and heavy already.
He pushed hard against Dio’s prostate and slammed himself hard, causing Dio to tense and scream out in a pain. But he did not complain, he took it all, gritting his teeth with eyes wide and enlivened. When pleasure took hold, mixing in with the harsh gestures, Dio wrapped his legs around Jonathan’s waist and bucked his hips hard into the motions.
In one thrust Jonathan saw Erina, remembered what Dio had done to her, and what Jonathan had given him in return. In another, he saw Danny and fire and empty suspicion, for they never found out the true culprit for his untimely, horrendous demise. But Jonathan had never let up his doubts, not to this day. And remembering caused him to lurch all the more, violating Dio’s rear with dominating pounds that had his brother wordless and drooling.
In a twist of strength, Jonathan pulled out for a moment, separating the pair. It was short-lived, Jonathan only taking the opportunity to unhook himself from Dio and flip him onto his stomach with a shove. Mounting him after, Jonathan slipped back in, this time the motion was far easier, now that Dio’s hole was gaping from the large insertion.
The new position allowed Jonathan to be even more relentless, propping Dio’s ass up and digging red finger marks into those slender hips of his, planting his cock in and out with vigorous. The intimacy, the merge of their bodies brought about more, and Jonathan was almost angry at the memories that came, as if that was all there was to them.
But as he stared down at the boy below him, the curve of his back, the side of his face as the other was smooshed into the mattress, heavy and flush pink, fingers clawing at the sheet, Jonathan was overcome with just how beautiful Dio was. And with all that hardship, dubiety and tension that marked these years together, he also saw smiles, days out, private jokes and whispers at the back of class. He saw staying up late, and a montage of Dio’s smiles, laughing genuinely with Jonathan by his side without a thought of cruelty behind it.
He saw it all, and it churned around his mind like bog water, muddy and unclear, because he and Dio were anything but uncomplicated.
Jonathan slowed down, finally and sank his body low, pressing his chest, his puffy nipples, and his stomach against Dio’s back, his face buried in the crook of Dio’s neck, lips pressed on his upper shoulder. He kissed him there, his lower half moving round in a gentler rhythm Dio quick began to match. His hand snaked under Dio’s body and began to stroke his member again, feeling it throb in his hold.
Though they still moaned and mewled, it was softer now, more intimate and dear, and Jonathan breathed out Dio’s name against the shell of his ear, voice laden with all the intensity, all the emotion that welled him.
Jonathan came first, eyes squeezed shut and body taut as he pushed his load inside Dio’s plush ass. But as the waves of orgasm took him like a storm, he did not stop moving his hand until Dio spilled hot and sticky onto it, crying out “Jojo!” as he did, turning his head round enough for them to lock lips in the midst of climax, entangled together in a burst of final passion.
It was late, and Jonathan after both physical and mental exertion suddenly felt incredibly drained. Pulling out, he used his shirt to wipe his cock and Dio’s inner thighs, taking a moment to admire the creamy semen that slipped out of his brother’s rear and coated his stomach.
Snuggling into Dio’s bed, and under the silky covers he pulled Dio into a spoon, and was surprised when the finicky blond did not pull away, half expecting him to kick him like a stray dog after getting what he wanted.
They lay there, silent mostly, only the sound of Dio’s clock and their breaths filled the room for long minutes.
“Dio…” Jonathan began, mere seconds away from slumber. He received a groan for a reply, bidding him continue. “Are you supposed to feel…”
“What?”
Jonathan paused trying to think of the words. Sad? Strange? Like he wanted to cry for some reason, but at the same time wanted this moment to last forever? In the end he chose none of them. “Never mind. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jojo.”
***
Jonathan woke up before Dio, though it was early morning the sun had risen, leaving the room dark. He fiddled with the bedside lamp, illuminating the room with a yellow glow and looked to Dio beside him, still sleeping soundly, still in the position they had been in last night.
A quiet smile was cast on Jonathan’s lips, and he gently carded tanned fingers through the blond streaks, not wanting to disturb him in his rest. There was a shining beauty to Dio, Jonathan could not deny it.
“I feel for you, Dio,” he said to the sleeping figure. “But even with this, I don’t know if I completely…” Jonathan tensed. Dio had offered up everything, hadn’t he? He really was something terrible, after all that to still hold nodes of doubt.
“But I’ll try. Because I know what I want.” He took Dio’s hand in his own, kissing his limp knuckles, hoping more than anything that he would be proved wrong.