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

[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.]

[Joseph shivers against him, a small chill as Caesar's fingers skate along his skin. It brings out a soft, quiet laugh. It's not because it tickled, however, that Joseph laughs. It's a new sensation, something new to share with Caesar among so many others. It's a giddiness, an excitement that Joseph simply can't contain.]

[He knows now what he wants once he wins their stupid competition. He's just gotta hold out for a little while longer. Not that he won't make demands for it anyway, but it's as good an excuse as any to try and hold Caesar to it.]

[But that's for later. Here and now, he just wants to be close to Caesar. He wants to be Caesar's. And it's good, he thinks, that Caesar wants enough to take for himself. Better that it's Joseph rather than anyone else, but good in general for someone who obviously had been somewhat willing to sit in silence and keep his feelings a secret. What a goddamn idiot... But then again, he's already said it, hasn't he? Not here and with his kisses, but the other day down in the engine room. Joseph said it back, but not the right way or the way he really meant.]

[Joseph moves his lips just out of reach. He needs to fix that.]

I love you.

[Caesar follows after him instinctively when he pulls away. He wants to close the distance between them; he doesn't want there ever to be distance again. He's waited so long, he doesn't want to talk now.]

[But then he hears Joseph's words, and he opens his eyes, and he thinks - maybe he can talk about just this one thing.]

[He hesitates, his breath caught in his throat, just watching Joseph a bare inch away from him. Is this the part where he's supposed to doubt this is real? He knows it's real. It's the realest thing that's ever happened to him. He's never felt more present, more grounded, more alive than right now.]

[There's not really any closer to be, but he tightens his arms around Joseph anyway, because that's how they do this. That's how they prove they belong to each other. That they're partners, friends, and--]

I love you, [he says quietly, breathlessly, resting his forehead against Joseph's.] I love you so much, Jojo, so much.

[Like flying. Like falling and knowing you're going to be caught, or floating knowing there's a hand under your back. So much there aren't enough words, and there never will be.]

[Joseph grins crookedly as Caesar rests his forehead against his. How can he not? He's known happiness. He's known a lot of happiness in his life. (He also gets now why he was so lucky to have known it so much and so frequently.) But he can't say he's ever felt happiness quite like this before. Being loved by Caesar is something different. He nuzzles Caesar affectionately.]

[But it's about as long as he can go without being a little shit and trying to rile Caesar up.]

Of course you do. And you said my sexy lips wouldn't get me anywhere.

[It's their rhythm though, isn't it? A little touch of something serious until they start playing again.]

[It is their rhythm. As much as he grumbles, he likes it, too, and Joseph knows it. The difference now is that he's got another weapon or three in his back pocket to get Joseph to shut up, and he's absolutely going to use them when he needs to.]

[Right now, though, he just makes a face, tugging petulantly on the back of Joseph's shirt and turning his head slightly with a huff.]

They didn't. Your stupid lips aren't why I love you.

[Joseph laughs quietly, looking about as smug as can be expected. Which is to say it's an incredible and highly annoying degree of smug. It's made even worse by the fact he moves to stay dead center in Caesar's line of vision.]

Oh, so you haven't been thinking about kissing me at all?

[Literally all the time. He glances up at Joseph and frowns sharply, turns his head the other way.]

That's not what I'm talking about.

[And if Joseph doesn't stop talking about kissing there's going to be more of it, for purely practical shut-the-hell-up reasons, obviously.]

[Caesar is not getting away that easily. Joseph just follows him as quickly as he can.]

It's not? Then what are you talking about? No, no. Don't tell me. Next you'll say, "You would've gotten there anyway."

You would've--

[And then he freezes and glares daggers at Joseph, torn between punching him, ignoring him, and hollering out the door that he's in here so that the men outside can take care of him. In the end, he goes with the more fun fourth option, which is pushing him a few inches away with his hands on his chest, then pulling him back by the collar.]

Careful, idiota. That trick isn't foolproof.

Tell me what I'm going to say next. Go on.

[It's hard stifling his laughter at Caesar's reaction, but he manages to keep it together enough to keep it down. Joseph looks like he's momentarily making an honest attempt at predicting what Caesar will say next. But then he throws his arms around Caesar's neck.]

You're not gonna say anything because-- [And rather than explain it in words, Joseph just kisses Caesar again.]

[That'll teach him to never doubt the power of Joseph's trick ever again.]

[Which . . . was actually what the answer was going to be, in fact, except he was supposed to get the jump on Joseph, and the fact that he didn't is--]

[He probably should be getting angry about it. But he doesn't, just lets out a pleased sound against Joseph's lips sort-of-not-really by accident and kisses him back possessively, his arms coming to rest at his hips again. There are worse ways to lose, he guesses; he'll probably survive.]

[Joseph smiles into the kiss when Caesar wraps his arms around him again. He wasn't sure if Caesar was going to get irritated and hit him before kissing him again or if he'd just fall into the kiss, but he's really glad it's the latter. Not just because Caesar can hit hard though. It would just be an incredibly unproductive use of their time. One of his hands tangles itself back up in Caesar's hair as he presses close to him again. He's no less eager, but he does give up the dominance in the kiss to Caesar gradually and is more than happy to let Caesar claim him now.]

[It would be so easy to just do this forever. And he wants to. So for a while, he pretends like he can - like they don't need to ever breathe or move or leave, like they don't have responsibilities to anyone but each other. That's what it feels like, anyway. Like Joseph is the beginning and ending of everything, his whole world packed into one person. It's felt like that for so long it just seems natural now.]

[He pulls Joseph back against the door and kisses him until he forgets what time it is, or who started this, or if he's actually breathing or not. He kisses Joseph until he absolutely has to stop, and even then he only pulls away half an inch, and their noses brush, and he just stares and stares and he can't stop, it's impossible.]

[His voice comes out rough and choppy, words halting; it's difficult because he just wants to repeat I love you until words don't mean anything anymore, but he has to say this.]

I'm sorry I was so angry. With you. It wasn't your fault.

Perdonatemi, per favore. . . . Forgive me? Please.

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