driftfleet | JULY PLANET MINGLE

You could just ask for your fork back, Jojo.

[He would probably even give it back! Maybe.]

[Joseph pauses for a moment. His eyes widen only a fraction, but it's probably more than enough to tell Caesar that it didn't occur to him at all. For a guy who dislikes hard work, he has the tendency to make a lot of it for himself.]

I just figured you wouldn't give it back. [He shrugs, trying to appear as casual as can be while he resumes eating. That's his story and he's sticking to it.] Besides, I clearly don't need it.

Jojo.

[Caesar sighs, exasperated, and leans forward to twine another few noodles around the fork, his own plate more or less forgotten by this point. He holds it out to Joseph, one eyebrow cocked expectantly.]

You need it. Use the damn fork.

[He raises an eyebrow and for a second doesn't take the bite if only because he's expecting Caesar to get back at him. But no, that's silly. Caesar wouldn't do something like that. Maybe if he was less exasperated with Joseph, he'd consider keeping the fork and bite just out of reach.]

[So Joseph happily takes the bite and reclaims his fork with a wide, cheeky grin.]

If you say so, Caesarino.

[He just. Smiles for a minute, happy watching Joseph be happy. It's comforting, he thinks, a little dizzy again, and leans his elbow on the table, chin on his hand.]

That's better, [he says quietly after a moment.] You're going to get us kicked out if you're not careful.

[And suddenly he decides he wouldn't mind if they did get kicked out. Suddenly he very much does want to go with Joseph after this, wherever he's going, even if it's a terrible idea.]

[Joseph snorts. Surprisingly, he's never actually been kicked out of anywhere before in his life. Of course, that's mostly because when he eats out, it's with his granny and Granny Erina? She doesn't put up with bad manners or screwing around like they've been doing since they walked into this place.]

That waitress likes you too much to kick us out. And don't even bother denying it. The corner of her eyes, [he says, tapping the corner of one of his with a finger,] crinkle whenever she looks at you, which means her smile gets a little bigger. She also doesn't look you in the eye. She's looking at your nose. Plus even when she's talking to me, her body's turned just a little more in your direction than mine.

[Joseph may have missed Caesar considering the waitress, but the waitress has been near the table enough times that he hasn't missed her body language even a little. He takes another bite of food, although this time pointedly slurping it, and talks around it like the classy man he is.]

I'm surprised you haven't been taking advantage of it.

[WHICH IS NOT AN INVITATION TO START. HE'D LIKE TO BE ABLE TO FINISH HIS MEAL WITHOUT BARFING, THANK YOU.]

[His eyes widen fractionally during this frankly surprising dissection of the waitress's body language. He knew all that. He had no idea Joseph knew it. It makes him wonder what Joseph sees when he looks at him, and that's not something he really wants to think about right now.]

[He considers his plate for a moment, toying with a piece of fried fish, and then looks up at Joseph with an unreadable expression.]

I didn't realize you were paying such close attention.

[He very pointedly says nothing about taking advantage, because. Well. He still might, and it's not really Joseph's business either way.]

I'm always paying attention.

[Except for when he's not. So, the part about "always" is certainly an exaggeration. But there are things that he can't help but notice about people around him. Especially when he sees it over and over again. And he's paying just enough attention to Caesar right now to notice he's avoiding talking about taking advantage. It's a mixed blessing. On the one hand, Joseph doesn't really particularly want to hear about it any more than he wants to watch it unfold. But he also finds it a little weird Caesar isn't jumping at the chance to brag about how he's taking his time or whatever bullshit he wants to spout that Joseph will instantly begin tuning out. He doesn't know what to make of it. Especially since, he's also noticing Caesar playing with his food more than he's eating it.]

Eat, Caesar. I worked hard to get you that food and I'm not letting you let it go to waste. If you don't clear your plate, you don't get dessert.

You always are, aren't you.

[When he smiles now, the corners of his eyes crinkle, just a little bit. He's sitting straight in his chair, his body turned entirely towards Joseph. And he's not looking Joseph in the eye, his gaze traveling instead from his nose to his chin to his mouth, where it snags for a brief, painful second before he looks down at his plate again.]

[He eats, because he's told to eat, and because that's what they came here for, isn't it, the food, not the company. Although the company is pretty good, too.]

What's for dessert, Jojo? [This careless, lazy, as he sinks back into the summery feeling of being a little drunk and feeling too much and not knowing what to do with any of it. There's so much chaos in his head, and it's only natural to slide into that tone that comes easiest to him, somewhere between arrogance and flirtation.]

[Joseph isn't paying too much attention to Caesar's gaze. Or, at the very least, he's trying not to give it too much thought because it's a little... Well, it's a little weird. But Caesar's definitely a little drunk. When Joseph's a little drunk, he finds he's oddly fixated on things at time. It's not so much like the world's slowed down, but he has and he needs those few moments to process what he's looking at before he can catch up. But that doesn't exactly spare him from feeling a little self-conscious and his own gaze drops down to his plate. Ah, whatever. Caesar is probably just drunkenly trying to read Joseph the way Joseph reads most people so maybe he can show off.]

I'm not telling you, [he says with a shake of his head,] but I promise it's nothing like your first entree. You'll actually eat it.

[And maybe he also picked it out as a way of apologizing for picking something so nasty in advance, regardless of whether or not Caesar was able to stomach it or not.]

Oh? So the dessert isn't made of thousands of tiny, squirming bugs? Not even spiders?

[He looks mock-surprised, chewing a fry contemplatively.]

I'm shocked. I thought you were going with a theme.

[The theme being disgusting bug dishes, since those are this planet's specialty, apparently.]

[He frowns and then he's pouting a little. Not in a completely haughty way, but certainly a little offended and wounded.]

Hey c'mon, I'm not that big of an asshole. Dessert's the best part of any meal anyway. Why would I risk screwing that up?

[Oh, Joseph. In this state, Caesar's more or less completely helpless in the face of that pout. He sighs and puts his fork down, raising both hands in a defeated gesture.]

Of course you wouldn't. The cap on a good day is important.

[Which he actually means. Apparently at some point he decided that today counts as good as well as bizarre and confusing.]

So why won't you tell me what it is?

[Joseph's smile comes back as quickly as it had disappeared. It often does, proving yet again that Joseph finds joy in the simplest of things. Although a case certainly could be made that today has been a complicated one. Joseph just tends to pare things down until they're simpler and easier. Right now, he just knows that Caesar has had a good day with him and he means it.]

You do know what a surprise is, don't you? I tell you now, I miss out on the stupid look on your face.

I never have a stupid look on my face.

[This with a smile, small and teasing. This is a good game, and Caesar likes playing it, even if sometimes he ruins it by accident because play isn't his area of expertise. No matter how clumsily he missteps, they always seem able to come back to equilibrium.]

[Joseph rolls his eyes.]

You almost always have a stupid look on your face. [Why yes, he's just going to up the claim by quite a lot. It's also bullshit because Caesar actually has the ability to look like he's got a clue about what's going on most of the time. It's a stark contrast to Joseph who just smiles his way through it.] I just never point it out because I was raised with better manners than that.

Better manners, he says, with his hands covered in sauce.

[He leans over and taps Joseph on the wrist, right next to a spot of previously-unnoticed pasta sauce that had landed on him during the finger food escapade.]

You should be grateful I go out in public with you at all.

[Joseph looks down at his wrist with a silent oh before, yep. He sure does just lick it off.]

You started it. You took my fork away. If you hadn't done that, I'd still be the perfect gentleman just like the way Granny Erina raised me.

And she has much higher standards than you do, Caesar. [Then his smile turns a little smug.] She'd probably a few things to say about you.

[Probably only nice things though if Joseph were to really be honest. Knowing Caesar, he'd probably charm his grandmother no problem. All he'd have to do is treat her with the same respect he treats Lisa Lisa and just like that, Granny Erina would be sold that he was a nice young man. Although, he has to wonder just how weird it would be for her to meet the grandson of William Zeppeli after all these years. He supposes he'll never know and neither will Caesar though. He only glances at Caesar briefly as he's pushing food around in his plate now. Well, if he ends up back home and Caesar isn't with him, he'll just have to be sure to tell her all about him. Which even with as little time as Joseph's known Caesar, there's a lot to say. It's a huge undertaking to try and relay all of that to anyone, and it also occurs to Joseph that maybe he's not the best person to tell Caesar's story. But he thinks it'd be a disservice to his friend not to try.]

[Besides, if there's anyone who'd understand it all, it'd have to be Granny Erina. She'd know all the important parts like how tough of a fighter he was, how much he cared about his family, and how he was always bravely on the side of justice no matter what. And how much Joseph missed him after he was gone. Knowing her, she'd probably be grateful to Caesar without having ever met him because over the past month, more than Lisa Lisa or Speedwagon, it's been Caesar who's looked after Joseph where she couldn't.]

[But even with that rather pleasant thought, Joseph hopes he never has to tell her. He hopes that somehow, no matter how impossible it is, that Caesar can be the one to tell his own story to other people.]

[The serious look that was on Joseph's face a moment ago disappears again, replaced once more by a smile as he starts eating again. If Caesar said anything while he was thinking, he didn't hear it.]

[He knows who Erina Joestar is. Of course he does. The thought of meeting her makes Caesar uncomfortable, if only because he hated the Joestars for so long out of principle. He wonders if she'd be able to sense it. He wonders if she really wouldn't like him, or if Joseph's just saying that to get under his skin.]

[It'll never happen, of course. Not without some real magic. He's alive here, but he doesn't believe he's alive back home, or that even if they could go back, that there would be a place for him there. It's a strange thing to try to reconcile, the thought of being alive but not alive; but he believes Atroma brought him back for their purposes, not his own happiness. It's the only thing that makes sense.]

[So he will never meet Erina, he thinks, and he'll never figure out whether they would get along or not, and the strange nervous lump in his throat at the prospect will never be resolved.]

[He can see the moment Joseph retreats into his thoughts. For a moment he lets him stay there. Then he reaches out and rests his fingertips against Joseph's wrist again, watching him carefully.]

Jojo.

[Joseph's eyes first dart to the fingers on his wrist at the touch before they lift to look back at Caesar. Shit. Did he miss something again? This zoning out though was a little different from the last time. At the very least, he caught his own name and it wasn't like he was halfway here and not at the same time. Part of him is hopeful maybe Caesar didn't notice. He's aware that's stupid, but he hopes it anyway.]

Hm?

[He saw; of course he saw. He's been watching Joseph so closely tonight, he thinks he can remember every look on his face, every stupid thing he's said. His fingers curl against Joseph's wrist, something behind his eyes suddenly uncertain - but he's started this now, and he wants to finish it.]

I only want--

[An intake of breath.]

I'm very proud to know you. That's all.

[He thinks at first that Caesar is just messing with him, that he's about to follow that up with something sarcastic to undercut what he's saying. Or maybe he just wants to think that. It's a really serious thing for Caesar to say and he fumbles with it for a moment.]

Of course you are. I told you earlier that you were lucky to have me for a best friend, [he teases and jokes with a crooked grin. But then Joseph feels a little bit of a dick trying to joke and push it away like that just because he doesn't know how else to handle it. Caesar is being sincere and he deserves better than that. Besides, it's not like Joseph doesn't like hearing it. And not in that ego-stroking sort of way because he doesn't feel like bragging about it. It's important, but not like that.]

[He fidgets for just a moment, working his jaw a little before his hand turns over to hold Caesar's wrist.]

I'm glad we met. Even if you were kinda an asshole in the beginning. I--

[He comes close to saying that of all the people he's met, he's learned the most from Caesar. Joseph's not the sort of person who is all that self-aware (even now he still has a long way to go on that front), but he knows how much he's had to grow up in the past month. He's clung desperately to some of his more childish tendencies because it's all he's known, but he's been faced with his own mortality, he's felt the weight of things much bigger than himself, and he's had to take responsibility. And truth be told, all of that has scared him out of his mind more than once when he thinks about it. But it was never quite as scary knowing that Caesar was there with him.]

[He's had Caesar there to distract him and to count on. More than that, he's had Caesar there to challenge him and push him. More than Loggins, more than Lisa Lisa, it's been Caesar that has taught Joseph to not just think solely about himself, to not just be some smug kid who can do a few tricks and get away with it. He's also taught him some harder lessons than that, too. They're lessons that Joseph is still struggling with and he wished Caesar hadn't been the one to teach him, that it could have been someone else a lot further down the line.]

[Maybe it's stubbornness that makes it difficult for Joseph to accept those lessons though. He'd certainly like to think that's what it is, anyway. But deep down, even Joseph knows that's not the whole explanation for it. He's never really had a best friend before. He never really thought he needed one given how close he was to his family and how, generally speaking, he could get by with the friendships and acquaintances he had before. But now he's had one and he knows there won't be another like Caesar. No matter how long Joseph lives whether he manages to survive the night he left behind or if he breaks the family trend and lives long enough to have kids and see his grandkids, he knows there simply won't be another. And Joseph is selfish. Unrelentingly, he wants something that's more than likely impossible. He wants to keep what he has because it's his and it shouldn't be up to anyone else whether Caesar stays with him or not except him. (And maybe Caesar if he was feeling reasonable.)]

I'm proud to have fought beside you.

[It would, perhaps, be a good idea to watch Joseph now. It might make it easier to understand all the things he's saying and all the things he isn't. It might give Caesar the key to comprehending what he means when he hesitates, what's going through his mind during those infinitesimal pauses between words.]

[But Joseph's hand turns over under his, and Caesar looks down at the table automatically. He has to listen without looking, he thinks; there's no way he can do both and register the way that their fingers brush, the rough warmth of Joseph's callused palm under his. He shouldn't have had anything to drink at all, although he's wondering now if that would have made any difference. If the only way he could have managed this day with any kind of dignity was if neither of them had said a word or looked at each other since the morning.]

[That's not what happened, though. What happened was everything, too much for one day to contain, and it's still happening. No matter what he does or thinks or says, he can't seem to make it stop. And maybe he doesn't want it to. Maybe he's prolonging it on purpose. They didn't have to go to dinner; they could have gone back to their ships if they'd wanted, or just gone their separate ways.]

[But being without Joseph now, even for a moment, is like torture. It's impossible, ridiculous, but Caesar feels as though, in the instant between dying and coming back to life, years went by during which he missed Joseph terribly. It isn't a fair thing to think, because Joseph is the one who missed him - but that doesn't change the fact that it feels true, or the fact that touching him is an anchor. If the day ends and he hasn't felt Joseph's hand on his shoulder, he doesn't feel quite real, as though all of this new life is a pain-induced hallucination, and he has to touch his hand to his face to make sure he isn't still bleeding.]

[This is the only way he can survive. And he thinks - because Joseph stays, despite his obvious anger - that his friend needs this, too.]

[His fingers curl slightly into Joseph's palm, grazing his wrist; his thumb brushes the side of his hand. A moment of soft silence, and then, with his free hand, he reaches out to cup Joseph's cheek, his mouth curving into a helpless smile.]

I'm very lucky. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

[This is stupid.]

[It's his first, instinctive thought, but it's unclear even to Joseph what he's even referring to because it seems to be happening again. It's that weird sensation where Joseph is narrowly focused and that focus happens to be falling to Caesar right now and everything to do with him. He didn't think it would happen again, was hopeful that it wouldn't because it makes his stomach churn and his head feel light in an uncomfortable way. He just wanted things to be as they were, as they're supposed to be, but something keeps happening that he doesn't understand and feels infinitely frustrated by because he has no idea what it is, how to explain it, or how to deal with it.]

[But he's acutely aware of Caesar's hands. The brush of his fingers on his wrist and hand are enough to send a slight shiver up his spine that he's forced to stifle. The gentle hold that Caesar takes of his face is enough to make his gaze dip from Caesar's eyes when he feels a lump in his throat rise up and cheeks begin to warm. He's not stupid. He knows that's embarrassment he's feeling, but he doesn't know why and he knows even less why Caesar is touching him like this. Like he would a--]

[He starts to pull away his hand, but he gets caught by his own fingers as they curl just enough to catch Caesar's by their tips. It lasts for only a second or two longer before Joseph's hand flinches away, turning back down and closing into a loose fist on the table. With the back of his other hand, he brushes Caesar's hand away from his cheek.]

[This is stupid and he doesn't like it, but he doesn't know where and what parts are stupid and he doesn't like. Joseph leans back some, swallowing and then clearing his throat by coughing as he looks around the restaurant. He spots the original owner of Caesar's entree getting back to their table and snorts without feeling it because he feels like an asshole. But he has to laugh because it's what he's supposed to do, it's how things are supposed to be.]

Caesar, check it out, [he says nodding towards the other patron without looking at Caesar because he's afraid of what he'll see if he looks. He starts laughing at the slightly horrified and perplexed look.] That's why you shouldn't get up when you're in a restaurant. Not when I'm around anyway.

[Christ, why is he talking? Why is he doing anything that he's doing right now? Joseph's not the type to resent himself, but he does a little right now because he should at least have the balls enough to look at Caesar right now instead of watching the drama unfold at the other table. But he can't. Not even out of the corner of his eye.]

[For just a moment, connected to Joseph as he is, Caesar is happy. So happy - maybe happier than he's ever been. It feels right, to be here as they are, to feel warmth rising to Joseph's cheek and to be made strangely giddy by it.]

[But then, in a succession of seconds that seem to take forever and yet last no time at all, he's pushed away easily and efficiently, like Joseph's swatting at an annoying bug invading his personal space. It hits like a punch in the gut, and for all Caesar is sure Joseph didn't mean it to, for all he's certain that Joseph doesn't have any more idea what's going on than he does, he can't stop the pain from shifting quickly and easily into anger.]

[He could throttle Joseph. He really could. It would be easy to knock the table out of the way and throw him to the ground, take him by surprise, haul off and hit him. He's done worse to people who deserved it less, he knows instinctively, even though he couldn't pinpoint Joseph's crime if he had to.]

[But what would happen after that? He'd hit Joseph, and they'd fight, and they'd end up in the same place they did in the ocean, wouldn't they, this same dead end where their eyes catch and Caesar forgets how to breathe or talk or think, where Joseph pulls away. He doesn't like this place. Or rather, he likes the beginning of it, the getting lost. The getting lost is nice. It's when they hit the wall that it hurts.]

[The connection that Joseph almost makes is lost on Caesar, at least consciously. But on some level, the second Joseph pulls away, a need to reconnect rises up in Caesar along with the anger - to reconnect with someone, anyone, it doesn't matter who. And when Caesar raises his eyes and sees the waitress watching him, he knows immediately that he is not going anywhere with Joseph tonight. This is where he should be, with her; she knows what she wants, he thinks bitterly, unlike either of them.]

[This time, he doesn't bother hiding his assessment of her, or the slow smile he shoots her way when she feels the weight of his gaze and goes a little red. A vicious part of him hopes that Joseph sees, and he doesn't understand that, either, because it shouldn't matter.]

[After a moment, though, he does turn to watch the show, his eyes narrowed and his chin on his hand.]

I hope it twitches going down his throat.

[It's an unnecessarily cruel thing to say. Caesar doesn't care.]

JULY PLANET MINGLE

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