driftfleet | When We're Rollin Through the Wild Wild West

[Caesar didn't ask for this. He's still exploring the moon at this point, hasn't made any inroads into talking to people yet. Admittedly he feels more or less at home here; it's more like the alleys back home than anything's been in a while, and it would be a relief to allow himself to let off a little steam.]

[Which is not to say he's asking to be thrown against a building - by anyone, much less by Joseph. Not that he recognizes who it is at first. All he sees is a blur, and then there's a tug on his shirt and he's slammed up against the wall.]

[He scrambles for balance, grabbing at Joseph's wrist, and it's halfway through doing this that he recognizes who's got him pushed against the wall. Good in that he's not actually being attacked, less good in that Joseph's grinning at him, that his hand is pressed against his mouth, that he's incredibly close, his hand still fisted in Caesar's shirt.]

[Caesar's eyes widen, and he opens his mouth behind Joseph's hand to say something - get off, what the hell - but he can't seem to get words out, just digs his fingers into Joseph's wrist and tries to remember how to breathe.]

Edited 2015-09-21 00:18 (UTC)

[Joseph lets go of Caesar's shirt to put a finger to his lips. He doesn't realize that Caesar's voice is caught in his throat, expecting any moment for Caesar to shove him off, hit him, or otherwise start making a lot of noise. He lowers his finger and speaks in a low voice, glancing back at the entrance to the alley.]

Man, am I glad to see you, Caesarino! I uh...might have made a tiny mistake. [Joseph takes his hand off Caesar's mouth.] Mind helping me out?

[Drawing back, like he should have done the second Joseph grabbed him, Caesar frowns and shakes his head mutely. He doesn't want to help, he wants Joseph to go away.]

[After a moment, he seems to remember himself, mostly, and smacks Joseph's forehead with the heel of his hand.]

What-- [He presses his lips together, clears his throat.] What did you do?

[Joseph's eyes snap shut at the smack and he lets out a soft grunt. Rude. Joseph's lips twist into a frown while he rubs at his forehead for a moment. He only opens one of his eyes to look at Caesar.]

I might have been cheating at cards. I didn't get caught though! There's no way they could prove it.

Jojo.

[He groans, then reaches up to smack him again.]

They don't have to prove it if there are enough of them. They just have to hit you with things.

[Which . . . actually . . .]

[He frowns sharply and grabs Joseph by the shoulder.]

Did they hurt you? Where are they?

What the hell do you mean did they hurt me after you keep hitting me? [You are so rude, Caesar A. Zeppeli. Fucking rude. Joseph rubs the new sore spot and rolls his eyes.] Why are you so worried?

[What a good question, Jojo. Maybe you should think about that. No? Alright...]

Do I look hurt to you? I got the hell out of there the second things started. [He starts grinning again, putting a hand to his chin.] They're probably trying to catch up if they were still following me. I'm sure they don't have any idea where the hell I am at this point.

[Why is he so worried. That's almost enough to make Caesar slap him again. He has literally never met anyone this stupid before in his life. He holds Joseph away from him by his shoulder, looks him up and down, since getting a straight answer out of him is apparently impossible, and after a moment decides he's probably fine.]

Why aren't you still running? They could still find you. You should be moving, not manhandling me.

[Because he definitely didn't enjoy it at all.]

Hey, I never run away from a fight, you know that!

[It was clearly a strategic retreat, okay. Not that Joseph knew where Caesar was or that he was going to run into him, mind you, but it all worked out anyway.]

Anyway, there's no need to run now that I've found my partner. [A beat before,] Right?

[Because this would be an incredibly shitty time to try and teach Joseph a lesson if you ask him. Not that he enjoys any of those harsher lessons, but this one would be simply far too much. There's just no way Caesar would leave him on his own now. He's sure of it.]

[By at least 85%.]

[It's really annoying, this ability Joseph has to turn Caesar around entirely, to transform the sharpness of his irritation to something soft and careful. His hands relax on Joseph's shoulders; he just looks at him for a moment, his mouth tight, considering.]

[Then he brings one hand up to grip the nape of Joseph's neck, fingers in his hair, and smiles, chin tipped up.]

That's right. We've handled worse.

[Joseph looks a little relieved, but certainly 100% happy with that answer. He should probably feel bad about bringing this to Caesar and getting him in the middle of it. Somewhere in his mind, he probably is. But it's not the part he's focused on and not why he's smiling right now. He's got Caesar by his side. That's what's important.]

[But that softer smile turns mischievous and crooked.]

Alright, so you get out there and kick their ass, Caesarino.

[Well, that's not entirely unexpected. He scoffs all the same, his fingers tightening in Joseph's hair and tugging back as he pushes himself off the wall and leans forward into Joseph's space.]

I thought we were partners, Jojo. Partners don't fight alone.

[He winces a little as Caesar's grip tightens in his hair, letting his head be pulled and tipped backwards a little as Caesar moves closer. Something about this feels...weird. It's not a bad weird, but it's just...weird. Maybe it's because Caesar doesn't have the tendency to invade Joseph's space all that often. It's usually Joseph that invades his--throwing an arm around him, leaning on him, pulling him along--and Caesar allows for it, sometimes pushing back at least a little. Well, maybe it's not sometimes. Caesar seems to almost always move closer himself when Joseph gets in his space.]

[It's just...nice to not always have to be the one to start. It's nice to see Caesar comfortable enough to have that connection. And all the better that it's with Joseph. Best friends. Partners. Whatever you want to call it, it's weird and it's nice.]

Of course! But partners also watch each other's backs and they're all going to be coming from the same direction, so...

[He hadn't actually intended to get quite this close, but, well, he's been doing a lot of things he hasn't quite intended lately, making promises to himself and then in no way following through on them. They're playing now, though, and the line between playing and flirting is very thin for him, so . . . this is what happens.]

[He can't really say he regrets it.]

Oh, I see. [He tips his chin up at Joseph with a critical look, moves another inch forward, so they're as close as they were when Joseph pushed him against the wall.] So you need me to save you? I can save you, if you can't handle this yourself.

[Joseph's breath is cut off with a soft noise when Caesar moves in even closer, finding himself with the momentary impulse to move away. It ultimately results in a relatively stupid look on his face because he realizes it's happening again.]

[He remembers warm skin, the soft scent of soap beneath the brine of the ocean, and the edges of his mind start to blur until he was left with a very narrow, Caesar-centric focus. This time it's a hand in his hair and sharp green eyes looking at him, but a hand still instinctively moves to Caesar's chest neither moving him closer or pushing him away. Worst of all, he can feel that same heat rising to his face. Last time, Caesar's eyes were closed. He didn't see. (But why does that matter?) Caesar's talking. Joseph's aware of how each word is shaped by Caesar's accent, but he might as well be speaking in Italian as all meaning is completely lost upon him. He doesn't have any better of an explanation this time compared to last.]

[Except...]

[No. Right? No way. Absolutely not. Right?]

[Right. That's just--]

[Joseph starts breathing again automatically (did he stop in the first place?) and he starts to open his mouth to say something, but he doesn't have any fucking idea what Caesar just said. Then again, saying anything at this point would probably be better than nothing. He snaps his mouth shut until he's ready to try again, but before he can there's a shout at one end of the alleyway.]

[Joseph is . . . blushing.]

[This is something Caesar has literally never seen before, and it's something he wasn't angling towards, either, so it takes him completely by surprise. His fingers loosen in Joseph's hair as his smirk fades, to be replaced by a look of intense concentration. His attention's divided between the hand on his chest and the look in Joseph's eyes, but there's part of him, too--]

[Why are you so intent on not letting this happen?]

[The thing is, he always is, until he gets close, and Joseph says something or does something that makes him feel stupid and young and happy, and then it's like he's never made any decisions before in his life, has no self-control, is nothing at all but the connection between them and what they're capable of when they're together. Partners.]

[He sees, this time, and he leans up, just a little bit, experimental, just to see--]

[And then they're there, and he curses under his breath, and grabs Joseph by the hand, and runs.]

[For the first few steps, Joseph stumbles. He wasn't expecting Caesar to choose to run. Not after the talk just before his brain shutdown without his permission. But he holds onto and tightens his grip on Caesar's hand, regaining his balance and managing to keep up.]

Uh, Caesar, where the hell are we going?!

[He glances behind them, hoping that Caesar has some kind of plan here. Or that he's at least thinking about it. This technique really doesn't work if you're not thinking while running. Not that he doesn't trust Caesar, but it's not like him at all to hightail it out of an immediate fight.]

Shut up and move, [he snaps over his shoulder, dragging Joseph to the other end of the alley. He does have a plan, as a matter of fact; he's spent enough time in this part of town that he has a pretty good grasp of the geography.]

[It's with an adeptness that might surprise people who don't know how much of his youth was spent being an aggro little fuck in dark alleys that he dodges left, right, left again, through back alleys and over short walls and, once, through an almost-too-small gap in a chainlink fence. His destination is entirely unclear until abruptly he jerks Joseph sideways into a half-hidden toolshed, pushes him to the side, and shoves a tool that he doesn't bother to identify through the handle.]

[He shuts up and follows after Caesar as he's told, focused on more on just trying to keep up while also being surprised at how quickly and easily Caesar's able to navigate the streets. At least until he vaguely remembers that there was a time where the streets was all Caesar had, then it makes a hell of a lot more sense to Joseph.]

[He's about to start complaining again, however, the longer they're running. It just seems better to stop and stand their ground than keep this up, but then Caesar is more or less tossing Joseph into a toolshed.]

What the fu--[He lowers his voice, remember that maybe making noise is not the best decision.] What the fuck, Caesar? This is the best you could up with? This is your plan? Hide out in a toolshed?

[He expected better. Smarter. Maybe something a little more dangerous. Either way, definitely not this.]

Great. I'm sure they'll never think to look in here. It's not like they're willing to scour the entire damn town and look under every rock for us. You do know there's a difference between a bullshit plan and a bullshit pla--

[He's still facing the door when Joseph starts complaining, which is probably for the best. He's never in the mood for Joseph's complaining, but especially not now, not when Joseph's entire fucking plan was find Caesar and make him do all the work. Find Caesar and push him up against a wall. Find Caesar and talk about being partners. Find Caesar and let him get close enough that he could--]

[Fuck it.]

[He turns around all of a sudden, something stony in his expression, something seen in back alleys and fistfights, something that says he's made a decision and he's going to stick to it, and the consequences can go get fucked because he doesn't care about them anyway. This isn't about something as nebulous as the future or as precise as the right thing to do; this is about what he wants, right now, which is for Joseph to shut up and hold still and pay attention to him.]

[There isn't much space between them anyway, but he closes it immediately, finding Joseph by feel in the dim light coming in through cracks in the wood, his fingers going tight in Joseph's shirt and pulling him close, and he doesn't say shut up but he makes it happen, pulling him down and kissing him hard, angry, almost vicious.]

[It's finally quiet, and he's so, so satisfied.]

[Joseph's words, sentences, and thoughts all die the moment Caesar's mouth is on his with a panicked little noise, his heart leaping into his throat. For a few seconds, he is stock-still in his surprise. (Surprise that shouldn't probably have been there, he'll realize in retrospect later.) He's not sure if this is really happening or if he's about wake up. Waiting for reality to decide which way it's going to fall on that debate is all he can do while his mind is trying to catch up. He's trying so hard to think, but there doesn't feel like there's any room or air to do it in.]

[It just doesn't make sense. Well, part of it does. He gets that Caesar likes guys also, but he said he wasn't into Joseph. And that had been fine then. Joseph didn't mind it, didn't feel the need to be the very center of everything. He was just content in protecting that secret. And now...]

[No. That's not right. Things have been different for a while now, haven't they? Caesar's been so quick to anger with Joseph lately, faster than usual. It's been with little explanation, but Joseph's been willing to believe and swallow whatever truth Caesar gave him. And Joseph's been jealous. He hates admitting it even to himself that Ino was right, but she was. That's why the thing with the waitress stung so much, why he's been so quick to step in the moment he's noticed Caesar flirting with anyone else. And he's... God, he's been such a stupid asshole without realizing it and Caesar hasn't said a goddamn word about it really.]

[The questions are swirling around in his head about the past and where any of this might lead, but if there's one thing Joseph's good at? It's not thinking. He's missing out on his first kiss thinking about all of this generally unimportant logistical shit right now anyway. Forgetting it is easy as Joseph lets his eyes fall closed, kissing back and crowding Caesar against the door possessively, hands at his waist.]

[He didn't really go into this with a plan. That's what spending too much time around Joseph Joestar does to you. It ruins your ability to think clearly, to plan ahead, to do anything but act and react. He thinks he was much smarter before he met Joseph, but he was unhappier, too, he'll admit that, he will, and sometimes it's the right thing not to think before you act. Sometimes thinking just freezes you up.]

[Somehow, in the back of his mind, he was worried that Joseph would think about this too much. Would push him away, yell at him, hit him even. It would have been worth it all the same, to do this just once, to have done it, to know the taste of Joseph's mouth and the way he'd react when surprised like this.]

[But Joseph kisses him back, pushes him against the door, touches him, and Caesar lets out a surprised noise of his own, freezing for half a second before letting out a sharp sigh and running his hands up Joseph's chest to rest at his cheeks, thumbs stroking along the line of his jaw for a moment before he decides that isn't enough. Not good enough, and his arms slip beneath Joseph's to rest at the small of his back, pull him closer even though there isn't really any closer at this point, and he knows there are still people looking for them out there but he doesn't care, he's been waiting for long enough and he isn't going to wait anymore.]

[He'd come so close to starting to overthink. The impulse to get as close as possible to Caesar could have easily turned the other way. He could have created space, pushed Caesar back to try and think any of this through. And what an incredible waste of time that would have been when what he wants right now is in front of him now. Besides, he won't need to think about all of this on his own later. Well, not all of it. Some of it he has to and simply will.]

[Ultimately though, he's not expecting to hear any complaints because of his decision not to think for a change. Not with the way Caesar's hands are wandering over him like this. His own hands remain at Caesar's waist until he has to catch his breath since Caesar cut him off mid-word and he has to stop kissing Caesar. One of them leaves his waist to hold his cheek, keeping his chin tilted up towards him. It's only a second, maybe two, before Joseph is kissing Caesar again. Or rather, he's peppering Caesar's lips with kisses as they're short-lived and end almost faster than they can begin because he has to breathe before he gets any more light-headed than he already is.]

[But he can't stop now that he's had a taste of it. He didn't hold any expectations of what it would be like to kiss Caesar because it never crossed his mind as possibility. Joseph now firmly knows this ranks pretty high on his list of favorite things to do officially. He can't and doesn't want to stop kissing Caesar. He doesn't know why they spent so much time not kissing, already kicking himself for freaking out in the restaurant. He's also starting to wonder why he did in the first place, but... No. Not right now. That doesn't matter. He pushes the thought back out.]

[Joseph's also not quite ready or willing to talk about any of this yet, and if he doesn't keep Caesar distracted or busy, he has a feeling words are going to start being exchanged. (He also doesn't want the reality of why they're hiding out in this stupid shed to settle back in either.) He just needs to buy himself a little more time. Even if it's only for a matter of seconds before Caesar tries to be responsible, he can be satisfied with those few seconds more.]

[The thing is, Caesar doesn't want to be responsible. He's spent years being responsible, until the only way not to be responsible was to hurt people - people he just met, or himself, by throwing himself headlong down a path of revenge that he couldn't possibly walk alone. He was responsible by isolating himself, by working himself too hard every day, by holding himself to some standard that nobody else cared about.]

[He's not going to be responsible now. He actually doesn't care if the men outside find them. There are plenty of weapons to hand; he could dispatch them in five seconds and get back to kissing Joseph in six. That's not what he cares about.]

[What he cares about is that Joseph is holding him still, his breathing coming fast and rough, holding him still so he can kiss him again and again, and as much as he likes to tell himself that he hates being manhandled he doesn't mind this at all, doesn't mind being pushed back and claimed and kissed like their lives depend on it.]

[This wasn't how he was planning it. He wasn't planning it at all - was going to keep quiet and just let things be as they were and be content with that. But he isn't sorry, and he isn't going to be responsible, and he absolutely isn't going to stop this for something as stupid as talking. He wraps his arms around Joseph's neck instead and pulls him back against the door, kissing him hard and hungry, his fingers tangling in his hair again, running up and down the back of his neck.]

[If he was going to say one thing right now, it would be I love you. But even that - he can say it like this. So he keeps quiet and kisses Joseph breathless, and he doesn't regret a thing.]

[Well.]

[Joseph had been expecting that Caesar might want to say something using his words, but this is nice too. Nice as in way better than expected and there will be no complaining (for a change) from Joseph about any of this as Caesar doesn't let him get away with small kisses for very long.]

[It's a little strange being needed so blatantly by Caesar. He's gotten used to Caesar reaching for him when he feels raw and worn down. Joseph's managed to get better about settling and quieting down when it's called for, to give Caesar what he needs from him in the moment until it's passed. But this is different. It's not a need because something hurts beyond what Caesar can handle on his own. He needs because he wants.]

[But Caesar doesn't have to want anymore. He has everything that Joseph's able to give him. And maybe he always has because Joseph's loved him far more than Joseph sure as hell realized. He makes a soft, pleased noise at the fingers in his hair, letting Caesar steal his breath. Joseph's hand at Caesar's waist slips around to his back pocket, pulling Caesar a little off the door and to Joseph. There's no real finesse to the way he kisses Caesar back, but he doesn't think that's going to matter right now. He's rough and he's clumsy, but it communicates the simple message of mine clear as day. There is no one and nothing else that Joseph wants besides Caesar.]

[It's a little strange being so blatant about needing, too. It's not Caesar's usual MO by a long shot. He's not stupid enough to think that that would work with Joseph, though, not in a million years - even when he was sitting there in the dark the night he couldn't sleep, with Joseph curled around his back and he finally, finally starting to understand, he knew it wouldn't, couldn't be the same.]

[Joseph is different. More important. He's larger-than-life - Caesar's never known anyone like him before. How could he not want him despite everything, how could he resist that? The cards were stacked against him from the start, his entire life disrupted by this stupid beautiful boy with his jokes and his carelessness and his competitive streak, and he's not sorry, he isn't sorry at all.]

[Surprised a little at the way Joseph pulls him forward; his breath catches, and he curses, merda, into Joseph's mouth, before following along with no complaint, pleased and shocked and completely unwilling to stop. He wants, now, to say it, I love you, but to do that he'd have to move away, and doing that even an inch seems like the stupidest possible option. He's being claimed, and he does his best to do the same right back, pressing himself close and demanding Joseph's attention with every rough kiss, and honestly - clumsy or not, he really wouldn't have it any other way.]

[They seem to be in agreement, for once. Mine, he says without saying it, his teeth grazing Joseph's lower lip, his fingers slipping up under the back of his shirt to trace the line of his backbone. And this is mine, too.]

b for bbbboh my god joseph

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i would apologize, but i wouldn't mean it

c h r i s t

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