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The rain continues to slide down the glass of the window, only adding to the foul mood in the ridiculously expensive hotel room. Caesar continues to stare out into the courtyard of the hotel, watching as guests run back and forth in front of the large fountain. It reminds him of the fountain back in Rome where he first fought with Joseph, except this one is much more gaudy and the water is dyed an unnatural shade of blue. It reminds Caesar of Joseph’s eyes. He sighs and brings the lit cigarette in his hand to his lips before taking a drag from the stick. The taste is god awful, why anyone would smoke he’s not sure—why he started smoking, he’s even less sure. However, it was a habit that calmed him, so he continued like the dutiful soldier he was. He flicks the loose ashes onto the black ash tray that rests on the nightstand next to the king sized bed. Why he needed such a large bed all to himself, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t the one to book the damn room in the first place so it’s not like he should complain. Erina and Lisa Lisa had been the ones to plan it out, with a little help from Speedwagon. Caesar didn’t have a choice, he just followed like the dutiful soldier he was.
He was beginning to hate winter, maybe spring too. This winter, in particular, had been nothing short of a shit show. Pillar men and their quest to control the world, Joseph Fucking Joestar showing up and causing trouble, the almost end of the entire world, not to mention it was fucking freezing the entire time. Even now, in April, it was still cold. Cold enough to chill your bones and remind you to stay inside. The added rain only made the chill run deeper and stay longer. He should be shaking underneath the thin fabric of his suit jacket and white button up. Maybe he was and he just couldn’t feel it, too soaked to differentiate between the chill of the water or the chill of the outside. He was inside now, though, so whatever chilliness that settles in his bones was brought on by something other than the external forces.
He pauses in his people watching as he hears the distant noise of the shower cut off. He doesn’t turn his head, only focuses on the sound of the water slowly turning into a consistent drip and the rattling of hooks on a pole as the curtain to the shower is drawn open. The thud of feet exiting the shower is next, before all that’s left to hear is vague rustling noises. He knows what’s coming next as the door to the bathroom opens and the footfalls are drawing closer. He flicks his cigarette once more before bringing it back to his lips.
“Grab some clothes from my suitcase, they’ll fit good enough until you can get back to your hotel. That is if you remembered to even book one.” He says as he takes another draw of the nicotine.
He hears soft rustling, toss and landing of a suitcase onto blankets and the zwip! of a zipper. “I have an apartment here, now,” is the answer, “it’s where I’m planning on moving into.”
“Should’ve guessed,” replies Caesar as he slowly turns sideways, eyes still mainly focused on the glass of the window. He barely moves his eyes sideways to see what the other male is doing.
Joseph Joestar stands over Caesar’s black suitcase, digging through the contents inside, making a mess of things as usual. Joseph doesn’t offer another word as he digs through the clothes before pulling out what he’s guessing will fit the best. They’re not the same size, Joseph had more muscle mass, but it was close enough. Enough to keep Joseph clothed for the evening at least, maybe night depending on if he stays or not. Caesar is hoping he will, and that he won’t, at the same time. Joseph’s own clothes had gotten soaked and covered in mud after the two fought at the funeral. Caesar’s suit managed to escape unscathed but the same couldn’t be said for his pea-coat and shoes that lingered next to the doorway.
“Can I—“ Joseph begins.
Caesar cuts him off before he continues, “yes, just grab whatever you need. I don’t care. You can keep it for all I care.”
Joseph grins as he grabs a pair of briefs from the bottom of the suitcase, “how’d you know?”
“I’m just assuming you’re not nasty enough to wear the same pair of underwear more than once.” Caesar states as he turns to fully face Joseph now.
Joseph is laughing, as if hours ago he wasn’t crashing his own goddamned funeral. “It’s not that gross, okay maybe a little gross.”
“I’m not arguing with you about underwear etiquette while you’re naked in my hotel room.” Caesar narrows his eyes as he brings his cigarette to his lips again.
“I’m wearing a towel,” Joseph points to the white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. The v-line of his abdomen is showing along with a thin trail of dark brown hair underneath his navel. Caesar would simply put the man in his empty grave if he was actually running around naked.
“Just hurry and get dressed, idiot.” Caesar hisses before taking a drag from the cigarette.
“You shouldn’t smoke those,” Joseph comments as he haphazardly tugs a white t-shirt over his top half, “I read somewhere that they’re cancerous.”
“I would rather die of cancer than deal with you right now,” Caesar grumbled in response.
“Ouch,” Joseph is dropping the towel and turning away from Caesar before struggling to put on the underwear, “harsh.”
Caesar’s eye twitches as he sighs, looking anywhere but the other male’s ass. Joseph wasn’t an ugly man by any means, but he was a man. Caesar wasn’t like that, he didn’t do things like that. He didn’t have an attraction like that. He wasn’t weird like that. He wasn’t in denial about anything, he just didn’t like other men. Even if they were stupidly attractive like Joseph fucking Joestar. No, he was into women, anyone would be able to tell you that. He had plenty of women he had flirted with and strung along, a long list of lovers. Then why did he feel this twisted thing in his chest whenever he looked or even glanced at Joseph? He should be fucking pissed, livid, anything but feeling like a puppy for the other male. Joseph Joestar has unintentionally faked his own death and worried Caesar for weeks. Weeks. Caesar mourned the loss of Joseph Joestar for weeks before Joseph turned up to his own funeral like he had not a single care in the world.
“Oi,” Joseph’s voice brings Caesar out of his thoughts, “your cancer stick is dropping ashes all over the carpet.”
Caesar glances to his hand where the cigarette was burned dangerously low. A tall band of ash stood at the top, threatening to topple over at any moment. Just a swift tap of his finger and the ash would explode into a flurry of grey and sink into the ugly chartreuse carpet (who in their right mind had even a-okayed such a color in a 5-star hotel in the middle of New York City). He sighs and leans back towards the nightstand, smashing the shortened stick into the ash tray to extinguish it. He could always just light another one. By now, Joseph was finished dressing and zipping the suitcase back up. It was the only noise in the hotel room for a while.
“Are you mad?” Joseph finally asks.
“I was,” Caesar says as he turns back to Joseph and faces the window again, “now I’m just annoyed.”
“I really had no idea Suzi Q wouldn’t send the telegram,” Joseph sounds unsure, it’s not a common thing for the male to express. “I would’ve sent it myself but I could barely move.”
“You’re here now,” Caesar sighs as he watches a young couple dart through the rain. The male is holding up a newspaper above the woman’s head trying to deflect the rain. “Just stop doing stupid shit and you’ll be golden. Go live a normal life.”
Joseph stays silent for a moment, “don’t you want a normal life?”
Caesar snorts and turns back around to face Joseph. He pauses when he notices the state of undress that Joseph is in. He has the white t-shirt pulled over his top half but the bottom of it rises far to high to be considered a normal t-shirt. Not to mention him not wearing any pants, just the underwear he borrowed.
Caesar raises an eyebrow, “any reason you’re… halfway dressed?”
“My ass is too big,” Joseph states with a grin.
Caesar nearly chokes on his spit as he gives Joseph a look of disbelief. “Y-Your what didn’t fit?”
“Ass,” Joseph states simply, “do I need to try them on for you?”
“N-No,” Caesar is going to deck Joseph in the face before this night is over, he can tell already. “Just, uh... never mind.”
Joseph is flopping down onto the side of the bed closest to him. He settles down on top of the comforter and places his hands behind his head. He looks far too comfortable to be on Caesar’s hotel bed, hours after he crashed his own funeral. Hours after Caesar had punched him right in the gut and made him pay for all the grief he put Caesar, no, not just Caesar, everyone through. He wants to punch the stupid bastard for looking so relaxed in someone else’s bed, even if it was Caesar’s bed. Joseph has his eyes closed, seemingly still enjoying the silence of the room before he cracks one eye open and reaches out his prosthetic hand and pays the empty space next to him. The sight makes Caesar’s stomach churn, a reminder that Joseph had actually almost died. That even though Joseph was alive and well and like nothing had ever even happened back in February, something did happen, and that it went terribly wrong. It’s a reminder that Caesar was too weak to stay in the fight until the very end and be by Joseph’s side when he lost his hand.
“I don’t bite,” Joseph teases, “unless you want me to.”
“I will punch you again, do not test me, JoJo.” Caesar replies before sitting on the edge of the bed.
Joseph props himself up on his elbow, “you’re such a prude sometimes, aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be a casanova?”
Caesar sighs and ignores the comment, “how long have you been in New York?”
Joseph hums, “a little over a day, but Suzi Q wanted to go sightseeing and I couldn’t tell her no.”
Caesar scrunches his eyebrows together, “are you two…” he trails off.
Joseph laughs, “together? No, she’s very attractive and is a nice girl, but we’re just friends.”
“What was all that crap about back when we left then? You made me turn the car around and everything.” Caesar says with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“Oh that? Well…” Joseph tilts his head in thought, “not sure to be honest. But it doesn’t matter anymore, she’s just a friend and nothing more.”
Caesar frowns at Joseph’s answer but doesn’t push it any farther. Caesar edges a bit more into the bed and ends up sitting with his back plastered to the wooden headboard. Joseph releases his weight off his elbow and flops back onto his back, staring idly up at the ceiling. Once more, silence is all that lingers in the room. That is, until Joseph opens his mouth once more.
“You never answered my question,” Joseph says into the silent room.
Caesar shifts to grab the box of cigarettes on the nightstand, “what question?”
“About living a normal life,” Joseph states calmly, “now that everything’s done, don’t you want to live a normal life? Have a family? Kids? Is that not like your number one thing? You’re always yelling about how Italians are the most familial.”
Caesar pauses and instead of grabbing a cigarette he turns to look back at Joseph before answering, “just because you killed the pillar men doesn’t mean that everything is over. There will always be evil in the world.”
“Yeah,” Joseph snorts, “but that can be someone else’s problem, can’t it? What do you even plan on doing?”
“I’m going back to the island with Messina, going to help teach and take care of the island. What else would I do, JoJo?” Caesar ends his statement with a question.
Joseph pauses, before he’s looking right into Caesar’s eyes. His aquamarine eyes seem to piece into Caesar’s very soul, his very being. “You could move to New York, the apartment I rented is big enough for more than just me. By a lot.”
Caesar frowns, “JoJo, we both know that’s not how this is supposed to end.”
Joseph frowns, “but why not? There’s nothing saying you have to go back to Italy.”
“Joseph Italy is where I’m from, where I grew up.” Caesar says calmly, “the island needs me too, now that Lisa Lisa is moving to America.”
“Please,” Joseph’s hand creeps across the bed and gets closer to Caesar, “just consider it?”
“You’re an oaf, you know that?” Caesar responds.
“I’m trying to be sentimental and you’re calling me and oaf?!” Joseph sounds offended.
“Because you are one,” Caesar closes the gap between their hands. It’s Joseph’s new hand, it feels cold, and wrong, and there’s no comfort behind it at all. But it’s still a part of Joseph. It’s attached to Joseph so it will have to do. It will have to provide the comfort that neither are willing to admit they need.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph says as his mechanical fingers flex, “for what I said back then.”
Caesar’s jaw tenses, “I could say the same.”
“God, we’re both fucking idiots, wouldn’t you say? Our final moments together and we fight like the first time we met.” Joseph is sighing after he finishes his piece.
“Don’t think about it too hard, your brain might melt.” Caesar says with a smirk.
“I think it’s time I paid you back for your stupid greeting at the funeral!” Joseph exclaims and suddenly he’s jumping onto his knees. Their hands separate and Joseph is clambering on the bed to grab at Caesar’s black tie. Caesar’s green eyes widen in surprise and his hands fly up to try and tear Joseph’s hands away.
“What the hell?” Caesar asks in shock.
Joseph has the tie firmly in his grip and pulls Caesar away from the headboard. Caesar lets out a small noise of shock but is too stunned to fight back more than just grabbing at Joseph’s hands. Joseph’s grinning, that shit eating grin he’s always wearing, as he tugs Caesar closer. They’re a tangled mess in seconds as Joseph drags Caesar up and over on top of Joseph. Joseph’s back is pressed firmly against the bed with his hand still clutching the black tie in his grasp. Caesar is enforcing himself with his outstretched arms that cage Joseph in underneath him. Something, probably mischief, flashes in Joseph’s eyes.
“Caesarino,” Joseph purrs out, “if you wanted me in your bed you should’ve just said so!”
Caesar is stunned even more now. Just what fucking game was Joseph playing with him? Was Joseph just trying to get a reaction out of Caesar? Caesar wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know what Joseph was trying to get at. Caesar stares up at Joseph, watching the way Joseph’s eyes twinkle and shine. How the light reflecting over Caesar’s back casts shadows over Joseph’s face. Joseph’s grin is wide and he’s almost ready to burst with laughter. It’s a nice look on him, Caesar decides, better than the one he wore previous to Joseph crashing his own funeral. No, this expression made him seem his age. How an 18 year old kid should look, especially now that the world is no longer ending. Joseph’s is grinning widely and keeps tugging the tie, trying to budge Caesar closer to him. Caesar’s hovering inches away from Joseph’s face by the time Joseph stops tugging on the tie.
Joseph looks different this close up. Maybe it’s the smile on his pouty lips, or the twinkle of mischief in his unreal aquamarine eyes. Maybe the relaxation of his eyebrows that sometimes look too furrowed to be that of an 18 year old. Maybe it’s the sound of his laughter that has changed when he’s this close. Maybe his jawline that is unnaturally sharp for his age, where did all his baby fat go? Joseph was an adult in the eyes of the law, but he was still just a kid. Just a stupid, bratty, filthy rich kid who doesn’t know anything. Sure, he sacrificed his life, his very existence, for the world, but wasn’t he still some stupid brat that Caesar had met in Rome? Wasn’t he still the stupid kid who snuck a fucking pigeon into Caesar’s mouth? Or who almost got them both bisected on the Hell Climb Pillar? Even the idiot who risked it all and fell down a cliff after Kars in Switzerland, was Joseph still any of those people? He had to be, considering he crashed his own funeral like he owned the goddamn place, but it wasn’t as convincing. Something had changed in Joseph, but Caesar wasn’t sure what .
“Caesar,” Joseph is suddenly saying, “kiss me.”
Caesar’s world, he thinks, is slamming on the breaks at that very moment. Or maybe it’s flipping upside down completely. Even pulling the rug out from under his feet where he stands. Just what in the hell was Joseph even playing at? They were both men. Men don’t kiss or touch or roughhouse like this. So why did Joseph sound so dead set? Was he just confused? Had he hit his head too hard when Caesar punched him to the ground at the funeral?
“Caesar, say something, anything,” Joseph is begging.
“You’re crazy JoJo!” Caesar shouts, “we’re both men, if you haven’t noticed, idiot!”
Joseph stays silent before he tugs Caesar even closer to him, their noses almost brushing. “I’m aware of that, I don’t care. I like you. So shut up and kiss me, or I’ll kiss you.”
Caesar is stunned into silence, his green eyes searching Joseph’s blue ones. “Is this a joke? This is an awful joke, JoJo.”
“It’s not a joke,” Joseph explains, “ever since I almost lost you I can’t get your stupid face out of my head. I don’t care, we can act like it never even happened afterwards if you want. I just need it. To get you out of my head.”
They both stay silent for a moment. The air around them swirls with emptiness, the utter lack of noise besides the pitter patter of rain hitting the large glass windows next to the bed. Joseph’s eyes look desperate and confused, as if he’s waiting for some sort of approval from Caesar. As if he wants reassurance that what he’s feeling isn’t wrong or immoral or going to send them both to hell. Caesar pauses, is this really that bad of a sin? They were both just two people, two humans, seeking the comfort of one another. Maybe just this once it wouldn't be wrong to follow his heart instead of his mind and the strict teachings of the church he grew up in. There had been a point in his youth when he ignored it and had turned to delinquency. Even his flirting with women isn’t so virtuous. So he does exactly that, he ignores it. He closes the gap between himself and Joseph and presses his mouth against Joseph’s. There are no fireworks or sudden revelations found within the kiss. It’s short and simple and sweet. Within seconds he’s pulling back and stealing his tie back from a shocked Joseph in order to sit up. He crawls off Joseph and leans back against the headboard as if seconds earlier he hadn’t been kissing the other male.
“You,” Joseph is shocked, his eyes blown wide as he sits straight up. “We?” He sounds confused, “I know I said to forget it but I wasn’t actually… expecting you to do it? To be honest I was expecting you to give me a black eye.”
Caesar stays silent for a beat before replying, “then act like it didn’t happen.”
“No! I mean, I don’t… I don’t want to.” Joseph’s eyebrows are furrowing and he brings his flesh hand up to graze his bottom lip.
“Why not?” Caesar asks while reaching for his cigarette package.
“I think I love you,” Joseph confesses, “I thought… I thought if we just kissed that I would be able to stop thinking about you but I can’t. I love you.”
“That’s stupid,” Caesar says without missing a beat, “men don’t fall in love with one another.”
“I’ve heard of it before, it’s not entirely approved of but it does happen, Caesar.” Joseph sounds like a kicked dog now.
Caesar sighs as he grabs a cigarette from the package and rests it on his bottom lip, “well then I don’t do things like that. I just kissed you to shut you up.”
Joseph is pouting, “you didn’t feel anything? Anything at all?”
Caesar pauses as he brings the lighter he keeps in his pocket to his mouth in order to light his second cigarette of the night. Had he felt anything? There was no fanfare when they kissed but it did feel almost natural. As if he and Joseph had kissed many times before, like they were supposed to kiss many times before. He wouldn’t be opposed to kissing Joseph again, he guessed. It also wasn’t like he wasn’t attracted to the male, Joseph was a very very handsome man. He also had a good heart and personality, even if he was an annoying brat sometimes. He had never considered the thought that maybe he too couldn’t get Joseph Joestar out of his head. Maybe the reason he was having so much internalized hatred for liking another man was not because he was afraid of liking one in the future, but that he already did like another man.
Caesar furrows his eyebrows as he speaks, “I’m not sure,” he states honestly, “it was nice, I guess.”
Joseph pauses before he’s on his knees and crawling across the expansive bed to Caesar. He swings his legs so he can straddle Caesar. He stands on his knees before slowly sinking down. His right hand plucks the cigarette from Caesar’s mouth and tosses it aside. Caesar makes a noise of disbelief before he’s silenced by Joseph’s hands cupping his face. One, incredibly warm and soft, and the other viciously cold and hard. Joseph peers down into Caesar’s green eyes before he’s the one closing the distance between them this time. This kiss is much longer and slower. It’s not a simple peck, but rather a slow dance between the two. It lasts for a few beats, maybe a few too many, before Joseph is pulling back. His eyes are once again searching Caesar’s for anything, anything at all. He finds the answer when Caesar’s hands grip his own and Caesar’s moving closer to kiss Joseph once more. They kiss again, and then again, and once more before they’re finally satisfied and pulling away from one another. Silent coats the air once more as they let the past few moments sink into their minds. Had it really been what they both wanted? Desired even? Would they both be able to love the other unconditionally if they decide to move this past a few simple kisses shared in a New York City hotel room?
“I’m willing to try,” Caesar finally states after the long silence, “as long as you stay the night.”
Joseph grins widely and rests his forehead against the blond’s. “As if I would ever dare leave your side again.”