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Dio Brando would not call himself a jealous man.
Covetous, sure. But there was a big difference in his mind between that—aspiring to another person’s station in life, wanting what they have—and jealousy proper. For jealousy necessarily involved emotional investment, caring about the other person on some level, and, needless to say, Dio didn’t care for a single living soul.
Be that as it may, however... Dio had found himself strangely, ah, moved as of late. By Jonathan Joestar, of all people. His clumsy fool of a brother, who always had his nose stuck in a book, who was constantly tripping all over himself, having not quite grown into his admittedly impressive stature. Who was always willing to lay down everything he had to protect another’s honor. It was this selflessness that frustrated Dio most—Jonathan would do anything, would move proverbial mountains and cross metaphorical oceans, for the sake of those he cared about. Ever the gentleman, he extended his grace to just about anyone in need, opening his purse to every beggar he passed on the street.
Dio wasn’t quite sure why this infuriated him so. Perhaps it had something to do with having come from where he did, having to work and scrounge and fight tooth and nail just to keep himself afloat for years, which made Jonathan’s brand of flippant generosity unfathomable to him. Of course, Dio theoretically knew that he’d never have to worry about poverty again while under the care of the Joestars—yet somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he might lose it all again any minute. So he habitually hung on to every little scrap of fortune that came his way, the need to grasp and reach and climb boiling in his very blood. Jonathan’s selflessness seemed to Dio a kind of carelessness, a luxury that he himself could never afford.
Or perhaps more truthfully, he wanted so badly to see his brother take something for himself, prove that the base selfishness of human nature still existed somewhere in him. He wanted to make Jonathan greedy, insatiable, to watch that gentlemanly facade crumble as he grew ever hungry for more.
Jonathan was out with Erina tonight, no doubt wooing her with his dashing, chivalrous act. Taking her dainty hand in his large, callused ones, getting down on one knee and planting a chaste kiss on her knuckles, the faintest hint of redness overtaking his cheeks as he looked up at her through those long eyelashes of his. And oh, something about that mental image made Dio’s blood run hot, and he took a breath to still himself. Jonathan would be home in a half hour, at the very latest—so if Dio was to act tonight, he had to act now. No time to stew in his feelings at the moment.
Anticipation brewing in his chest, Dio paced down the long corridor connecting his bedroom to his brother’s, footsteps echoing in the evening quiet. Jonathan had left his door ajar, and he took in the sight before him as he crossed the threshold into the room. His brother’s desk was a mess of books and papers, his bed unmade and the door of his wardrobe wide open, having clearly spent a few minutes deciding what he would wear on his date before dashing out to make it there on time. It was so lived in, so very Jojo—nothing like Dio’s own bedroom, which he kept immaculate as a rule. A slight shiver ran down his spine as he thought about what he was about to do here, in this room that so emanated his brother’s energy. He took a deep breath in, and even the smell of the air was thick with Jojo.
Divesting himself of his clothes, Dio sprawled out on Jonathan’s bed, glancing in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall to admire his own sculpted form. He knew he looked absolutely ravishing, blonde hair mussed ever so slightly, muscles rippling under his skin like the oil painting of Saint Sebastian that hang in the Joestar family living room. The martyr with hands bound behind his back, arrows piercing his skin, look of tortured rapturous pain on his boyish face. He remembered looking up at that painting with awe as a child, feeling something unexplainable stir deep in his belly.
Dio felt a similar stirring in him now as he idly traced his fingers in patterns on his chest. He wondered what his brother would do when he saw him, what he would say. How he would take him. Hands wandered down his stomach to his inner thighs, and Dio let out a pleased groan. The tip of his thumb grazed the tip of his cock, flushed and already half hard. He took himself in hand and stroked himself—only slowly, gently. He was to take his time, luxuriate in the feeling until Jojo came back. No need to rush.
But of course, Dio could only hold back so much—and he was never one not to indulge himself when given the opportunity. He squeezed at his cock gently, swiping at the bead of pre-cum forming on the head with his thumb. He tweaked a nipple with his other hand, shuddering at the slightly painful sensation. Then—there it was—the unmistakable sound of Jonathan making his way upstairs, footsteps loud with his heft and general lack of grace. Perfect timing. Dio sped up his strokes, panting and groaning a little louder on purpose. “Jonathan,” he moaned, just loud enough for his brother to hear down the hall.
“Dio! Did you call for me? What’s wrong, did something happen?” Jonathan shouted, steps quickening as he broke into a jog. Dio laughed to himself. He had just about made it all the way down the hallway, and it was only a matter of seconds before he laid eyes on him.
“Are you hurt, D—“ Jonathan now stood in the doorway, eyes as wide as dinner plates, shocked into speechlessness. Without moving a muscle, Dio met his gaze, and the two froze in this unmoving tableau for what seemed like minutes.
“Dio,” Jonathan finally managed to splitter out, “what are you...” he trailed off, clearly more than aware of what his brother was doing in his room.
“Brother dearest,” Dio murmured, folding in on himself demurely, “you’ll have to forgive me. I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” He bit his lower lip and averted his eyes, expertly feigning embarrassment. Still, he did not move from the bed, nor did he make any real attempt to cover his shame—for Jonathan was apparently unable to stop himself from raking his eyes up and down Dio’s body, staring him down like a starving man. Dio basked in that gaze, so fiery and piercing, yet there was something tender in its attentiveness. Oh, this was going to be so good.
“Dio, I...” he said, breathless and lamb-like in his uncertainty. The picture of innocence, even as he took in the image before him, the whole of his brother’s outstretched naked body. A flicker of guilt flashing across his countenance as his eyes fell upon Dio’s cock, still hard and red and slick with pre-cum. He finally tore his gaze away, and, much to Dio’s surprise, his eyes narrowed. “You planned this.”
Dio’s eyebrows shot up of their own accord, his composure cracking almost imperceptibly. He hadn’t expected Jonathan to pick up on his plan, at least not quite so quickly. He took a breath, gears turning in his head as he thought up ways to retain the higher ground. “Whatever do you mean, dear Jojo?” Dio looked up at his brother with his lips parted ever so slightly, channeling his genuine surprise into a show of doe-eyed innocent shock.
“You come in here, into my bedroom, you undress, you... you pleasure yourself on my bed, knowing full well I would soon be home. And you expect me to believe I just happened to catch you in the act?” Jonathan flushed, with anger and embarrassment and perhaps a touch of something else. “This is another one of your games, isn’t it, Dio?”
Dio narrowed his eyes, quietly calculating his next move. He let a wolfish grin spread across his face. “And what if it was? What if you knew for a fact that I was trying to seduce you? Would that, ah, mean anything in particular to you, perhaps?” Jonathan bit his lip, and Dio couldn’t help but chuckle. “And in any case, the position you’ve found me in is quite compromising. Scheme or not, the fact remains that you’ve walked in on me naked, in your bed, touching myself and saying your name.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve never been so terribly embarrassed. What will you do from here, Jojo?”
Jonathan seemed at war with himself. This was going better than Dio could have ever dreamed. With his hands balled in fists at his sides, he stared at the floor, eyes darting upward every now and then to steal not-at-all-subtle glances at Dio’s body. “Get out,” he nearly whispered, and whether his voice was quivering with rage or with lust was anyone’s guess.
Dio tossed his head back to laugh, golden curls bouncing, a tease. “I think we both know that isn’t what either of us want.”
Jonathan shifted in place. “I don’t w—“ he started, but Dio shot him a look that precluded any attempt at deception. “You know I can’t.”
“Why?” Dio smiled, sphinx-like. “Because you’re courting that Pendleton girl? It hardly seems to matter. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He spread his legs a little wider, deliberately cocking his hips forward. “Or, perhaps, are you holding yourself back to protect my honor? Do you feel somehow guilty taking advantage of me, having found me in such a compromised position? That would be a bizarre logic indeed.”
A look of recognition flashed across Jonathan’s face, and Dio knew he had hit the nail on the head. Hardly surprising—no one knew Jojo better than he did, after all.
“Oh, dear brother,” Dio breathed. “Always so measured and considerate. The consummate gentleman. Tell me, Jojo—“ he paused to lick his lips, trace a finger salaciously down the length of his thigh—“when was the last time you let yourself take what you wanted?”
That seemed to be enough to push Jonathan over the edge, as he growled and lunged forward to trap Dio on the bed between his arms, his towering bulky form suddenly making Dio (who was nothing to scoff at himself) feel quite small. Jonathan kissed him experimentally, prodding his tongue between his lips far too gently for Dio’s liking.
Dio snarled, baring his teeth. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Jonathan bit down on his shoulder in response, hard, and Dio barely suppressed a yelp. This was Jonathan marking him, claiming him as his own, and Dio’s head was spinning with arousal at the notion. Before he could fully process that, Jonathan was kissing his way down his chest, wrapping soft lips around his nipple and sucking gently. When he tugged at the nipple with his teeth, Dio let out a mewl, running his fingers through his brother’s hair. “Oh, Jonathan,” he sighed. “So feisty. Wherever did that come from?”
Jonathan took a break from what he was doing to rest his cheek against Dio’s chest, looking up at him thoughtfully. “Truth be told, I don’t know. Everything we’re doing right now goes against every logical instinct I have. But, Dio,” Jonathan said, sitting up to punctuate his words with a slow roll of his still-clothed hips against Dio’s crotch, causing Dio to let out a shameless moan at the sudden friction, “you looked so beautiful lying there for me. All aglow in the candlelight. I couldn’t help but want you, dear brother.” He pulled Dio flush to his chest and kissed him deeply.
Dio kept his hands cupped around Jonathan’s jaw when they finally pulled apart, his usual facade of cool indifference betrayed by the fire behind his eyes. “If you want me, Jojo, I’m yours for the taking.” His eyes dropped to Jonathan’s belt buckle, quirking his lip at the bulge in his pants. Dio had seen his brother naked before and knew for sure he was big, but there was just something different about seeing him hard with his own two eyes. Hard for him. He looked back up at Jonathan, eyes silently asking, may I?
Jonathan nodded his approval, and Dio hastily unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning and pulling down his pants to toss them aside. He ran one hand up Jonathan’s thigh, feeling the shape of the defined muscle. With his other hand, he toyed with the waistband of his underwear, enjoying Jonathan’s shudder at the lightest graze of his fingers against his skin. Nudging his legs apart, Dio situated himself between them with a hand resting on either thigh, bending forward slightly to mouth at the outline of Jonathan’s dick through his underwear. That earned him a loud moan.
“Please, Dio,” Jonathan breathed.
Dio looked up at him, a glint of mischief in his expression. “Please what, Jojo? Your wish is my command—you only have to say it.” Jonathan only groaned, at a loss for words. “Do you want me to take your cock in my mouth and suck you dry?” Jojo nodded silently. “Well, say it then.”
“I want you to take my cock in your mouth and suck me dry, Dio,” Jonathan said, his voice raspy and low. “God, Dio—I want to fuck that gorgeous little mouth of yours.”
Dio smirked, but was inwardly a little surprised at the sudden forwardness. “Was that so hard?” He said, pulling down Jonathan’s underwear and freeing his cock, which sprung up against his stomach with a slap. He allowed himself to stare at the sight before him for a second, before he ghosted his hand up and down his shaft. Jonathan panted as he settled back against his bent forearms, bucking his hips in an attempt to seek friction. “Dio, please.”
“Patience is a virtue, dear brother,” Dio said, but nonetheless settled on his knees and leaned over to take the head of Jonathan’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tip. When Jonathan’s eyes rolled back as he moaned, Dio bobbed his head repeatedly, taking in more of Jonathan’s dick each time until his face met his crotch, his nose buried in Jonathan’s pubic hair. Dio hummed contentedly and looked up to meet his brother’s eyes, and he felt the cock in his mouth twitch.
“Fuck, Dio,” Jonathan whispered hoarsely, “you look so gorgeous like this. So good for me.” He rested a hand on Dio’s head, tangling his fingers through soft golden curls. “I’m going to fuck your face. Is that okay?” Dio made a noise of affirmation, and Jonathan’s grip on his hair tightened as he began to thrust his hips into his face, slowly at first. Dio tried his best to relax his jaw to better accommodate the huge, girthy cock sliding in and out of his parted lips. Taking this as a sign to speed up, Jonathan picked up the pace, sliding another hand into blonde hair. Dio grunted at the extra tugging at his scalp, and couldn’t hold back the tears that formed in his eyes when Jonathan slammed into the back of his throat repeatedly. The sounds that spilled forth from Jonathan’s mouth were delicious, and he felt his cock twitch at the predicament he found himself in: his brother was finally taking what he had wanted, using him for nothing but his own pleasure. His hand went to his own cock unthinkingly; he stroked himself with haphazard abandon, desperate for relief.
“Oh fuck, wait, Dio—“ Jonathan said, stilling his hips with great reluctance, and Dio pulled off his cock with a lascivious pop and looked up expectantly. “I don’t want to come yet. I, uh... I want to fuck you. If you’re willing.” For someone who just spent a few minutes with his cock in another man’s mouth, he looked rather bashful. Cute.
“Like I said, dear brother, you only have to say the word,” Dio said, grinning wickedly.
Jonathan exhaled. “Okay,” he said, a little bit of that fire creeping back into his eyes. He rummaged for a moment in the chest of drawers behind him, pulling out a small, unadorned glass vial. “On your knees.” Dio obliged, crawling onto the bed and proudly displaying the smooth curves of his ass.
“Oh, Dio,” Jonathan said, tracing a finger down the curvature of his spine, drawing quiet shudders from him, “you’re an absolute vision. Laid out so pretty for your brother.” He went to unscrew the vial, pouring the viscous fluid contained therein over his fingers. Spreading Dio’s cheeks, he pushed a finger in slowly, experimentally moving in and out. “A sight to behold. My God, Dio,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m going to ruin you.”
Dio heard himself whimper at those words as Jonathan added another finger and began thrusting. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, but it was nothing Dio wasn’t used to. How many nights had he spent rocking back into his own fingers, imagining it was his brother’s cock fucking into him, after all? He gave a little shudder at the thought that it was finally happening, moaning unabashedly when Jonathan slipped in a third finger and brushed against something that made his thighs tremble.
Dio was beginning to tire of waiting for Jonathan to take what he wanted. He raised his ass in the air, rocking his hips back into his brother’s fingers. “Fuck, Jojo, just put it in me already,” he panted, delirious with pleasure and need.
Jonathan chuckled. “Eager, aren’t we?” Still, he removed his fingers—Dio felt a pang of emptiness when he did so—and, after slicking his cock with the last of the vial’s contents, lined himself up with Dio’s entrance. “I’ve never done this before, so tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He whispered into Dio’s ear, leaning over from behind his shoulder—and though his words were sweet and almost timid, the sound of his voice was all lust, dark and heavy.
Dio nodded, lips parting in a sigh as Jonathan slowly pushed inside of him. It took all his willpower not to immediately tense up around the frankly massive cock in his ass. He shuddered as Jonathan finally bottomed out, suddenly aware of just how stretched he was.
Jonathan leaned down to tuck a strand of golden hair behind Dio’s flushed ear. “You’re taking me so well, dear brother,” he said, his voice husky with sex but still full of genuine awe, looking down at the place where their bodies met with a reverence that bordered on religiosity. “I’m going to move now. Is that okay?” When Dio nodded, he planted a chaste kiss on his shoulder blade, and while Dio was busy processing that unexpectedly tender act, he pulled almost all the way out before beginning to fuck him, moving with short, relentless thrusts.
Dio’s hips jerked when Jonathan’s cock brushed up against that spot in him again, and as if on cue, Jonathan repositioned himself and began to focus his thrusts on that spot. Dio keened shamelessly, reaching back to grope around blindly for Jonathan’s hand, guiding it towards own his painfully neglected cock, hard and by now dripping with pre-cum. “Touch me,” he managed to spit out between moans.
“Fuck, Dio,” Jonathan said, acceding to Dio’s demand and jerking him off with vigor. “You feel so good around me.” Dio whined and writhed under his brother, who was now thrusting into him more erratically as his climax approached. “Who knew you’d be like this? Letting me fuck your face, begging for my cock. Tell me, Dio—how long have you been planning this?” He punctuated the question with a particularly forceful thrust, and Dio arched his back, his mouth hanging open. “How many nights have you lied awake, getting off to the thought of your own brother?” Dio was too far gone to formulate a response, and Jonathan smacked his ass hard to snap him out of it. “Well?”
“Hhhah, nghh—wishful thinking, Jojo,” Dio managed to get out, what was supposed to be a biting comeback entirely betrayed by the way he moaned and wriggled under Jonathan’s touch on his leaking cock. “This is nothing more than an exer—ahhhn, fuck—an exercise in manipulation for me. I just wanted to see how far I could, hnngh, make you go.”
Jonathan slowed his assault for a moment, grabbing Dio’s jaw and turning his head to face him. His fingers gripped forcefully, leaving faint red impressions on Dio’s cheek and neck. “Is that so?” He said, an uncharacteristically vicious smirk on his face. “In that case, dear brother, I’m sure you won’t mind if I stop touching you, then.” He moved his hand off Dio’s cock and onto his hip, while the other hand traced his jawline and wandered to the back of his head, lacing fingers into his curls and tugging at them loosely. “Since this is a game to you.”
Dio whined at the loss of touch, grinding his hips into nothing as Jonathan continued to chase his own pleasure. Judging from the way his thick cock twitched, and the way the rhythm of his thrusts occasionally stuttered, Dio could tell that his brother was nearing his orgasm. He used both his arms to pull Dio in closer by the hips. “Fuck, Dio,” he groaned. “So good, so beautiful, I’m so close—“
“Cum in me,” Dio said breathlessly, the words leaving his mouth completely of his own accord. Jonathan’s grip on his hips tightened, and soon enough he was spilling his seed into his brother’s hole, hips bucking as he rode out his climax. The feeling of Jonathan’s cock pulsing as the warm gushy feeling filled him was enough to send Dio over the edge as well, hot messy cum splattering on the bedsheet under him.
Dio craned his neck to look back at Jonathan as they stayed in their position, both catching their breath as they came down. His brother had a childish, goofy smile on his face, completely mismatching with the situation they found themselves in. “Untouched, huh?” He said, clearly satisfied with himself. “Guess you were a little more into this than you let on, brother.” He pulled out slowly, watching his own cum drip out of Dio’s hole and sighing at the sight.
Dio, too, shudders at the feeling of cum running down his thighs. “Don’t get cocky, Jojo,” he says, the warning belied by the crack in his husky voice.
Jonathan laughs, and to Dio’s utter surprise, he pulls him up by the waist such that their faces were level, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Come on. Let’s wash up,” he says, standing and offering Dio an arm to lean on. Dio scowled at the implication that he might need assistance, but when his thighs quivered and knees buckled under him upon standing, he begrudgingly took Jonathan’s arm, leaning on his shoulder and allowing himself to be half-carried to the bathroom.
Score one for Jojo, he supposed. But the game wasn’t over yet—of that he would make sure.