Chapter Text
Caesar Zeppeli considered himself an excellent student as well as an amazing older brother. There was nothing about him that wasn’t disciplined and punctual.
As the eldest brother of a poor and large family, Caesar had no choice but to grow up quickly and become a third parental figure for his four siblings. At first, he was resentful, but it was simply the cards he was dealt. While his parents were constantly working multiple jobs, he cooked, cleaned and raised his siblings all while attending school.
He had time to work a few days a week, but all his paychecks were geared towards making sure his siblings had normal lives. While he wasn’t working or studying, he was ushering his siblings to and from football practice, violin lessons, talent shows and whatnot.
It was difficult, but he did that while rising to the top of his class and being accepted into an Ivy League college, with his tuition being covered by his excellence in academia and a heart tugging letter about his siblings.
Unfortunately, that meant leaving his family in Italy.
They were heartbroken, but they understood he couldn’t be around to babysit them forever. His family wasn’t completely without his support; he regularly sent hundreds of dollars to them to keep them afloat. Despite his scholarships giving him extra money, it simply wasn’t enough. So, he worked as a server 5 days out of the week. He worked at a slow, crappy Italian restaurant (which made him disgusted, as a true Italian, but he swallowed his pride for the money).
But that wasn’t important right now.
It was his first day of his third year at University, and he was eager to get the day over with. He had work today.
Despite his university experience being so positive, what with the fabulous facilities and architecture, the friendly faculty and students . . . It couldn’t be enjoyed to the fullest. He was a full-time student working nearly thirty hours a week. He had no time for friends or student organizations.
His eyes briefly scanned the dome shaped building ahead of him before brushing through and entering, along with a few other students.
PSYC 2250, or Psychology Brain and Behavior.
Caesar fully intended on pushing through with a psychology degree. He was aiming for a high paying job so he can get his family out of the slums and provide them opportunity. Psychology was a degree of medicine he enjoyed the most, so it was a no-brainer for him.
He entered the lecture hall and scanned for a seat before he heard a familiar voice call out among the others.
“Yahoo~! Caesar, my little galletto~!”
The honeyed and sing-song voice of his cousin echoed throughout the lecture hall, catching Caesar’s attention right away.
Of course, his cousin, Suzi Q. She was his much wealthier, more successful cousin. As soon as word spread that Caesar was accepted into Harvard, she made sure to send in her own application right away. She was a little bit older and was always keen to help his family when necessary, but Caesar rarely accepted her help.
She wasn’t the smartest, but she was incredibly wealthy. He wasn’t sure how she got into the university, but for his sanity, he felt it best to not think about it.
He made his way to the center front of the mini auditorium, sitting right next to his beaming cousin.
“Good morning, my little galletto!” She smiled, her baby pink lips stretching over pearly white teeth. “Beautiful day, eh?”
Caesar tutted. “I would’ve thought you given up that nickname, piaga.”
She frowned. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, galletto mío? The sun is out, and I’ve seen so many cute ragazzi Americani! I thought you would’ve snared one or two by now!”
He gave her a serious look. “University is for studying and not for civettare, no?”
“I’m young, Caesar~!” She pouted. “And hush now, class is starting!”
Before the blond could snap back a response, there was a booming voice in the front of the classroom.
“Hello, everyone!” A cocked and husky voice sounded, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention.
My, what an accent. Caesar frowned. Caesar craned his neck upwards, hoping to get a glance at the source of the voice. It was such an odd accent, sounding like an odd mix of American and English. It wasn’t terribly upsetting, but rather . . . attractive?
His green eyes widened. An even more attractive and huge man stood at the front of the classroom, fumbling with a laptop. He was crouched over the podium, his huge frame making the podium look incredibly tiny.
He was godly looking.
The man looked no older than Caesar himself. He had broad, muscles shoulders flexed under a tightfitting white button up that was sloppily put together by a loose, navy blue tie. His hips were slim and had khaki pants tight around thick thighs. His nose was slim, his brows were thick and his bottom lip pouty. He was tanned and beautifully so.
His brown hair was tussled, curling around his ears and his long bangs flopping over. Caesar bit onto his bottom lip and coughed uncomfortably into his seat.
Suzi Q must have noticed, because she started giggling furiously.
“My, has the nice man up front caught your eye, my Caesar?” Suzi Q smiled slyly, poking her cousin in the side.
He tsked and shoved her hand away. “You are incredibly obnoxious.”
“Oh? You don’t think so? If you aren’t looking to snatch him up, I might take a bite myself.”
“Sorry, folks!” The man fully stood, making Caesar’s breath catch in his throat. Only after did the man stand did Caesar realize how truly tall this stranger was. “I’m having a bit of trouble with the projector right now, so I guess I’ll just introduce myself while we wait for IT—?”
Caesar scoffed. “Be my guest, piaga.”
“So, my name is Joseph Joestar!” The brunet grinned, flipping his hair lightly out of his face. “I know I’m not your listed professor, Dr. Elizabeth Joestar, but she’s fallen ill this semester and so I will be taking over as her TA and her son. Were there any questions?”
Interesting. So nepotism doesn't stop once you get to the collegiate level. Caesar thought, unimpressed.
Suzi’s hand shot up right away. “Si, signore! I have a, how you say, question? Can you tell us some more about you?” An obnoxious giggle followed, making her cousin roll his eyes to the high heavens. She twirled her dangly earring around a well-manicured finger, a flirtatious move he recognized well. Unfortunately, Suzi wasn’t the only girl looking infatuated with the speaker up front.
Joseph smiled. “Why, of course! Well, my name is Joseph and I’ve been bleeding Crimson for a good couple years now. I was born in the big apple, graduated from here a couple years ago and now I’m doing my masters here! My mother usually teaches this course, but I’ll be teaching until she gets better—”
Huh? Caesar gasped. This ragazzone was already a TA? He barely looked older than Caesar! Looks like this American was smarter than he let on.
Before Joseph could further elaborate on his life, a knock at the door sounded. A shy looking fellow with a stuffy looking cap and dark curly hair poked his head in.
“Is this Dr. Joestar’s lecture?”
“Yes! I seem to have a bit of trouble getting the projector started. If you could help me right over here—? What’s your name?”
“Smokey, sir.”
“Smokey! Right this way.”
Suzi Q looked over, her eyes glittering. “Oh, Caesar! He is so handsome, don’t you think? Ah~! It’s like he walked out of my dreams!”
“Well, I hope you and your white knight have a happily ever after.” Caesar scoffed, pulling out a blank notebook for the lecture. He tried to ignore the sinking jealousy in his gut. “And if you don’t mind me asking, how do you plan on bedding him, exactly?”
She smirked, her finger twirling her earring. “Are you interested, mio galletto? Would you like to make a little wager?”
“Let’s say, I was interested,” Caesar started, perching the end of his pen underneath his chin. “What would be the magnificent prize at the end?”
Suzi Q hummed, her ivory blonde hair bouncing as she tilted her head. “Let’s say, whoever takes the American to bed first gets Nonno Zeppeli’s recipe book?”
The Italian’s jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious?”
“Oh, deadly serious, Caesar.”
“You’re on, my dear cousin.”
Usually, Caesar wouldn't care enough to make stupid wagers such as this one, but if Nonno's recipe book was at stake, he absolutely had to take it. Nonno had incredible, hand-made recipes from generations before. They were delicate, and he knew his sloppy minded cousin would only do injustice to those recipes.
Eventually, lecture started after Joseph struck up conversation with the IT guy. Joseph seemed to be incredibly characteristic, his smile drawing anyone in and bringing the best out of them. He’s even managed to entice a chuckle from his audience more than once, which is impressive, considering this is a morning lecture.
He was a surprisingly enticing speaker, Caesar not even glancing down at his phone once. Joseph didn’t skip a beat; he joyously introduced the syllabus and his email like it was the best thing in the world. Even the IT guy stayed around to listen for a bit.
Class came to an end early, everyone filing out while a group of girls approached the front, giggling among each other. The Italian wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was one of them. Despite having genuine questions about the course, he had ulterior motives.
“You’re lucky I have class, Caesar,” the blonde pouts. “I’ll let you have him for today.”
Caesar chuckles and sends her away, strolling to the front with confidence surging through him. He sucked in a deep breath, mentally prepping himself for the flirtation about to come.
He was nervous. Unusually so. He wasn’t ever good at talking to other people like this, he was more focused on his school and family during his formative years. He was more of the type of guy to browse Grindr late at night, chat with faceless locals and never open the app for days.
But he flirted with customers constantly! No matter who or what they looked like, Caesar charmed them into handing their money over some shitty Italian food.
He got to the front, Joseph packing away his papers and half-paying attention to the girls around him.
“—through my school email.” Joseph spoke, nodding absentmindedly to a girl who was flapping her jaw about God knows what. “But if you think it’s necessary to have my number, then—”
“Excuse me, Signore? Professore?” Caesar waved his hand, catching Joseph’s attention. The brunet turned and his doe like eyes widened, his mouth stretching into a smile.
“Hey!”
Good lord, it should be illegal to have a smile that dazzling. His poor, little gay heart.
The Italian’s mouth twisted into an awkward smile. “H-Hi! Mind if you and I talk really quick?” The blond cringed, his insides churning uncomfortably. He was trying too hard to be cool and approachable. He still wasn’t used to how Americans talked.
“Absolutely,” Joseph’s mouth pressed and smiled crookedly. “Ladies, if you don’t mind?”
The girls shot each other looks, some shooting Caesar a couple of glares, before mumbling an agreement and saying goodbye. Joseph nodded in agreement and leaned across the podium, his muscles leaning against his clothes in a sinful way.
When more and more students filed out, Caesar shifted his weight from foot to foot. “My name is Caesar. Caesar Zeppeli. I was wondering if you and I could talk more about the course?”
“I would love to chat with you in private, Caesar,” His low voice rolled. “Unfortunately, I must get to my next class, so maybe you can swing by my office hours?”
Caesar’s face fell. “Ah, I don’t think that will work. You see, I work most days after class . . .”
“Where?”
The blond blinked. “H-Huh?”
“Where do you work?” Joseph insisted.
“O-Oh,” Caesar’s voice caught in his throat. “Vinny’s. The Italian place down the street. “
Joseph leaned forward. “How about I stop by tonight? I’ll grab a drink and we can discuss any questions you may have. Unless you might get in trouble . . .?”
“No,” Caesar blurted. “Y-You can visit me! It’s eh . . . slow? It’s slow business there. My boss won’t mind.”
It really was. Caesar isn’t lying when he swears the food there is an insult to Italy. He’s ashamed of every dish he sets on the table, but the customers don’t give a damn about the food. They care about getting their excellent customer service from Caesar Zeppeli and fawning over his muscles and his Italian accent.
“Sounds great, Caesar,” The blond shuddered at his name being rolled out of his mouth. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yes, looking forward to it!”
As Caesar turned around and headed to his next class, he felt his face burn the entire walk.
He also couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell within him as well. Seems as though the recipe book was closer than he expected.
-
Later that evening, Caesar was staring holes into the giant clock above the door.
It was 7:40. The restaurant closes in twenty minutes.
It was a fairly busy evening, with Caesar meeting his daily quota of tip money for the day. But right now, he was cleaning early and waiting for the late customers to head on out.
The only customer in the store was a grown man at the bar that Caesar has been chatting up for the past hour. The chefs had gone home and the other server was currently cleaning the bathrooms. The buss boy was busy sweeping the front.
“Hey, pretty boy!” A gruff voice called.
“Si, Mark?” Caesar lifted his weary head, blinking at the grown man at the bar.
Mark was a regular of his. He was a stressed-out businessman who came in for drinks one day and felt it relaxing to flirt with Caesar all night, despite having a wife and kids at home. Caesar didn’t mind, though. Mark gave him lots of money for listening to him vent and letting him flirt.
“When are you gonna let me take you home one of these days?” His voice slurred, loosening his tie. “You got that pretty ass. I wanna see what it does.”
Caesar laughed breathlessly, not bothering to pause his cleaning. “Ay, Mark. I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, no?” He was used to customers being extremely forward with him, but he could handle his own. He usually didn't let it get so far.
Usually.
But Mark was drunk.
Mark rolled his eyes, his hand running through his salt and pepper hair. “Caesar, you’ve been playing hard to get for months now. But my wife is going to a wedding with the kids, and I’ll be home alone . . .”
The door chimed, and Caesar looked up, prepared to tell a customer to fuck off for walking in so late.
But to his surprise, a big, familiar, figure walked through the door.
Caesar smiled when his eyes landed upon Joseph, who headed straight for the bar. He was wearing his usual, rumpled white shirt and blue tie, but this time, with a padded leather jacket. The edged look made him look even more intimidating.
“Professore, I didn’t think you’d stop by! What’s your poison?”
Joseph laughed breathlessly and sat down, immediately leaning on his arm. “Just a whiskey, if you don't mind. Busy tonight?” Mark, temporarily forgotten by his item of affection, glared at this newcomer.
Caesar half turned his body to start pouring the liquor, the side of his body burning as he realized Joseph was staring at him intently.
“A little,” The blond slipped, sliding the glass across the countertop. “You kept me looking at the door the entire night, Signore Joestar.”
“Joseph,” The brunet corrected, swirling the drink in his fingertips. “Please, call me Joseph. My mother insists on students calling their professors by their academic titles, but not me. Dear, what a bore. Anyway, I’m sorry for not coming sooner, I was held up at a meeting with my boss.”
The Italian hummed. “In trouble already, Jojo?”
“Jojo?” His brows raised, and for a moment, Caesar as worried he had crossed a line.
“Only my Granny Erina calls me Jojo,” Joseph chuckled. “But it’s cute, I like it . . . Caesarino.”
Before Caesar could open his mouth to respond, he heard a heavy cough coming from a few seats down.
“Caesar, you didn’t introduce me to your friend,” Mark glowered, his voice deeper than before. “Seems like you two know each other well.”
Caesar stiffened and cleared his throat, nearly forgetting where he was. He forgot Mark, he forgot he was on the clock and forgot he was supposed to be entertaining his regulars.
“Scusa, dolcezza,” Caesar sighed, his head stooping in embarrassment. God, his hot professor was about to see him shamelessly flirt with an older man at work for some money. He could only pray that Joseph doesn’t look at him negatively after this.
Mark scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “Nope. I get it. But you’re still coming home with me, tonight, right?”
“You’re funny, dolcezza,” Caesar tried to not spit his pet name out, picking up a rag again. “But you know I have classes in the morning.”
The older man pouted. “Oh, my sweet Caesar. What will it take for one night with you, hm?”
“Pardon me for intruding,” Joseph growled. “But I do believe my friend here is kindly rejecting your offer.”
Caesar swallowed thickly, trying to hide his shock at Joseph standing up for him so intensely. He didn't need a savior, but he couldn't deny how swept off his feet he felt from the gesture.
Mark raised dark eyebrows. “Oh? I do believe that my Italian dessert is an adult that can decide for himself. Right, Caesar?”
Before the blond could answer with another evasive response, Joseph laughed without humor, sending icy chills down Caesar's arms.
“Alright friend, I think you’ve had enough to drink. How about I call you a cab and—”
“Caesar here will take me home. And I think you need to mind your own business, bloke.” Mark spat back in a falsetto British accent.
Joseph looked towards his student. “Caesar, call a taxi.”
Deciding to keep his mouth shut, Caesar gulped and grabbed at the phone next to the computer. Trying to remember the phone number for the cab, he suddenly heard a crash behind him.
A hoarse breath erupted from Mark and Caesar turned.
Joseph had his teeth clenched as he had the older man pressed against the bar, his face digging into the wooden counter-top below. Joseph's baby blue eyes were now a vibrant and passionate color, brimming with anger.
“J-Jojo!” Caesar gasped. “W-What are you doing?!”
Joseph ignored the blond to lower himself to growl into Mark’s ear. “I would prefer if you leave this bar and politely wait outside for your cab to arrive, sir.”
Mark’s drunken eyes looked terrified before he nodded quickly. Joseph allowed him to scramble up from his spot and run out the bar, letting a blast of cold air in.
Joseph looked back at Caesar, who stared back in awe.
“Sorry for causing a scene,” Joseph muttered, blushing a bit. “He just— He tried to grab at you when you were turned around.”
Caesar blinked. “I-It’s okay. Just scared me a bit.”
“Let me walk you to your car,” Joseph brought out a hand. “After we call a cab for that creep, that is.”
Caesar smiled. "You're quite the gentleman, Joseph."
"Hush now, let's walk you to your car."
-
"Thanks for waiting for me to lock up," Caesar mentioned as they stepped outside, the blond jingling the keys in his hands. "Mark left awhile ago, I assume?"
Joseph nodded, looking pained at the thought. "Yes. I tipped the driver extra for taking care of that fool. But now that we have some work-free time alone . . ."
Caesar tucked the keys into his coat pocket, the air dropping in temperature all of a sudden.
"What kinda questions did you have about the course?"
The Italian frowned before remembering the excuse he came up with earlier. "Oh. Well—"
"I know what you're about to say next," Joseph smirked. "You're about to ask me if I have a girlfriend, and the answer is no. I don't have a boyfriend, either."
Caesar stopped in his tracks, his heart thumping. “Er, no, actually. I was about to ask if the textbook was required. I didn’t make a lot of money this summer, so I don’t have enough for textbooks.”
A vibrant red color bloomed across Joseph's nose before he cleared his throat and turned away from his student. "O-Oh. No, the book's useless." The Italian pressed his lips together to keep from spreading into a wide grin, seeing how embarrassed Jojo was.
"Grazie, Jojo," Caesar smiled, his eyes being trained on the floor. "And if you don't mind, can I give my number to you?"
Joseph hummed, his eyes flicking up to stare at the streetlamp. "Oh, I think I'll get your number next time I stop by for a drink, eh?"
Caesar's eyes widened.
Next time . . . ?