Chapter Text
The way Caesar's back slammed against the concrete the second before Joseph pinned him to the ground must've sucked the air out of the entire training ground. It knocked the wind out of the former, of course, but everyone else monitoring the sparring seemed to gasp and hold their breath at the sight of the senior being taken down by a fledgling Hamon user. There was heavy silence as Joseph pressed his knee into Caesar's chest for a three-count (no more, because "if you can't get up by then, you may as well be dead", according to Lisa Lisa), and then jumped up with a triumphant whoop and what would probably be a dashing grin if not for the mask hiding it and the immediate gloating that followed his victory. "You owed me that one, Caesarino!" he declared with a hearty laugh, watching as Caesar finally got to his feet, holding a hand to his chest. "You good? Or are you just so inspired by my win that you can't help but clutch your pearls?"
"Che fastidioso, you never shut up." Caesar huffed. His breathing was noticeably more shallow than when they started, even though he was trying to keep it as even as he could. His chest hurt on every inhale. "I am impressed that you managed to win without any dirty tricks, but this stance has nothing to do with that."
Joseph's expression brightened in a way that made Caesar's face grow hot (God, he hoped he wasn't visibly blushing). "Aw, c'mon, Caesarino. I've never used a dirty trick to win~."
"Cut the Caesarino." He closed his eyes and took the deepest breath he could manage, shooting a pulse of Hamon through his chest and wincing slightly as whatever was broken or ruptured or otherwise injured was healed by the energy sent coursing through it. "You did well. A few flaws in your technique, but you're improving."
Now it was Joseph's turn to clutch his nonexistent pearls. "Caesar-uh! I think that's the nicest thing you've said to me since we've met~! You flatter me."
He was insufferable. Caesar wanted to keep telling himself that he couldn't stand Joseph and his stupid smug attitude and bad jokes and entire existence, but at this point it wouldn't even be blissful ignorance or denial. It would just be an abject lie.
"Please, for just a second, stop talking," Caesar grumbled mostly under his breath. What happened? It used to be so easy to hate Joseph. When they first met, he seemed lame, completely incompetent, the kind of guy that really got under his skin, and he had been perfectly content with that. If he was going to have a rival that he had every intention of surpassing, it might as well have been someone whose face he wanted to slam into the pavement anyway. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pinpoint when the paradigm shift started and how he got here, but that probably wouldn't change the fact that he now wanted to wake up in Joseph's arms to him saying something stupid just to get his day started right.
He shook his head to clear that thought before his face could flush any further, and then realized that Joseph had taken advantage of his distraction to wrap an arm around his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"What? You're acting like I'm committing a crime or something, sheesh. Come on, we can talk about this over dinner, you're cooking, aren't you?" Joseph winked, and Caesar felt his heart leap into his throat. He suddenly felt hyperaware of the way their bodies were pressed together.
Still, he attempted to keep a straight face. "Yes, I am. Why? Do you intend to burn the house down on my watch?"
Joseph pouted. "I miss when you were being nice to me, Caesarino, c'mon."
"You're impossible."
"You're mean~."
Caesar sighed through his nose, frustrated and defeated. "Fine, whatever, just stay out of my way and don't burn anything. Honestly..."
Seemingly satiated by this curt response, Joseph seemed to bloom like a flower seeing the sun. He released Caesar and hurried into the castle-like structure looming before them, probably excited to get his mask off so he could show off his self-satisifed smile while his companion was trying to cook.
Not that he'd mind in the slightest, but he'd give Joseph hell for it if he started teasing him for it.
It didn't take Joseph very long to start hovering around Caesar as he was cooking, nor did it take very long for the latter to get annoyed (?) by it.
Joseph took a deep breath as if to experience every smell the kitchen had to offer at the moment and exhaled with a whistle. "Y'know, when I get married someday, I hope my wife knows how to cook like this."
Ahi. Why did that cause a pang in Caesar's stomach? Of course Joseph would want a wife, what sane man wouldn't? It made him clench the knife he was using to chop vegetables hard enough to make his knuckles ache slightly. But he still couldn't manage to stop himself from speaking: "Maybe she already does. Who knows? Maybe you've had her cooking before."
The way Joseph's face lit up, complete with a crooked grin now that the mask was removed, made something wither in Caesar's gut. "What, are you implying something, Caesarino? I mean, Suzi Q is really cute, but...hm, I dunno."
"I'm implying that you're an idiot," was Caesar's next very unsubtle choice of words, and after that he decided that he should probably just keep his mouth shut. But Joseph was already peering curiously at him, ocean eyes catching the light of the setting sun, and at this point, he could probably put it together. There's nothing to lose now, Caesar mused as he focused his attention on the vegetables before him. "I'd be surprised if you couldn't find a wife. I guess if a woman somehow manage to find your brain somewhere in that thick skull, I can see how she would be attracted to you."
"Oho? You can see it?" Oh, fuck. The interest gleaming in Joseph's eyes had very quickly turned sharp and knowing. "Why, Caesar, are you hiding something from me?"
"Even if I happened to be, you wouldn't know it. You hardly know anything about me, and I promise you that's for the best."
"Caesar"—Joseph was resting his chin on his companion's shoulder with pursed lips now—"I don't know if you've noticed, but if I ask if you're hiding something, it means I probably know that you are. We're friends, right? Yeah, so there's no need to hide anything from me. Besides, I know plenty about you!"
Caesar scoffed, finally pausing his preparation to turn and look at Joseph with what he hoped was a blank expression. "Oh, really? Like what?"
"Well, let's see." Joseph tapped his chin in feigned thought. "You're a flirt because you're afraid of attachment, right? Dunno why, I can't tell if it's a family thing or, like, a bad relationship. Maybe both. But you're, like...mmm, loyal isn't the right word, but you know what I mean, right? You don't lose interest in things as fast as you act like you do in people. I mean, you haven't given up on me yet." He winked. "So it must be that you're worried about getting attached. How much do you wanna bet it's an abandonment thing?"
"Don't joke about that."
"Fair, fair." Joseph held up his hands in defeat. "But you get it, don't you? You're not as mysterious as you think, Caesarino."
Caesar managed a bitter laugh. "You say that like you're going to change me or something. Give me a break." He pressed a hand to his forehead, took a slow breath, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Guys like you...the ones who think they can fix people that seem broken...you're all the same. I don't need to be 'fixed', if that's what you're trying to do."
A weighty silence followed, and Caesar's gaze dropped to the floor. What the hell was he even talking about? And why? Joseph didn't need to know about any of this, he probably didn't even care, and that was fine. Even though it was crushing him inside, it didn't matter.
He felt Joseph's hand on his shoulder and had to ball his fists to keep himself from smacking his hand away. "Caesar..." When he didn't get a response, he rested a hand on Caesar's cheek. "Hey, look at me. Or, uh, don't. I, uh...hey. I didn't mean to pry like that. That wasn't...I'm...I'm sorry."
That apology managed to finally earn him eye contact. Surprisingly, Caesar kept himself from tearing up, his eyes dry-heaving and burning instead. "No, I..." He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter, just mind your own business next time and we can—"
"Can we talk more later? In your room? I'd, uh..." Joseph removed his hand from Caesar's face and rubbed the back of his head with a nervous laugh. "...I'd offer up my room, but you'd probably lose your shit if you saw how messy it was. But I wanna talk to you in private, if...that's okay with you."
Another pregnant pause, though this time the silence was permeated by Caesar's blood beating in his ears. How could Joseph's demeanor shift from cocky and irritating to vulnerable so fast? And why was he showing Caesar of all people this side of him? "Ah—uh." He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go away, so all he could do was nod. That seemed to be fine with Joseph though, who was looking sunny as ever with a bright beam gracing his features yet again.
"Great! I'll, uh, I'll see you after dinner!" Joseph disappeared through the door into the dining hall before Caesar could even gather the words to ask what he could possibly want. He raised a hand to his cheek, the ghost of Joseph's warmth lingering on his skin and sending a residual shiver down his spine. Some part of him silently wished he'd asked Joseph to stay, maybe the same part that had hoped he would lean in and kiss him, as if this was one of the love stories he'd spent his later teenage years fantasizing about.
Even if he couldn't pin down the moment when he'd started to fall for Joseph, at least he knew that here, in this kitchen, staring at the heavy oaken door as though he were waiting for the object of his infatuation to come back through it, was the moment that he realized he was completely and utterly fucked.