Work Text:
The autumn sun had set hours ago, yet the Joestar mansion couldn’t be more alive.
Jonathan dodged past party tables of food, distant relatives and giant poofy skirts as he raced around to find more children to play with. The majority of them were much older than him, favouring not to play with a 12-year-old like himself, and the few other children that were there seemed far too snooty to want to actually play around.
He wondered what Erina’s family was doing. Then again, he would never let her into the mansion so long as Dio was there. There was no way he would let his brother steal another kiss from her again!
He tried to avoid the flock of women attempting to grab at his face and exclaim how old he was, as well as his father, whom he was sure would just scold him for spilling wine on his new shirt.
His father had thrown great parties on the 31st of October for as long as he could remember. George had even told him that it was a tradition that he had done since his mother was alive. He thought it was sweet to honour her spirit like that by continuing to do so, even if he could barely remember his mother.
Live music played in one corner of the front hall and, now filled with food, Jojo felt content.
And bored.
He knew if he pestered the rest of the kids, they would probably join in on a hide-and-seek game in the vast mansion or maybe join in on an escapade to steal candy from the kitchen, but honestly, he didn't feel like doing anything of the sort.
He knew he would sound like Dio if he said this, but he was starting to find games like those more and more childish by the day.
...Dio...where was Dio?
Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen his adoptive brother in what felt like hours. The boy was silent at dinner while the guests fawned over him, but he seemed to disappear almost instantly after they all clinked their champagne glasses together and finished eating.
Strange…
Climbing the stairs, he leaned over the side of the banister and spotted maids pushing around carts, children sitting by the orchestra, and adults decked out in fancy clothing and masquerade masks.
But no Dio.
His first thought was that he was off playing around with other children somewhere, but Dio was never one for small talk, or “useless banter with undistinguished idiots,” as he put it.
He could be outside somewhere, but his father had locked the doors after all the guests arrived to ensure that there would be no “ghosts breaking in.” It was Halloween, after all.
He drifted thoughtfully upstairs, letting his wandering mind get the best of him until he found himself at the very top of the steps, gazing out over the entire party.
While he spotted his father talking and laughing with a group of guests, he still couldn’t find Dio.
Worry started to eat away at him as he wandered aimlessly through the upstairs halls. Where could he be? Could he have gone to bed early? Or maybe snuck off somewhere?
What if he was hurt? Or worse—what if he—
“—ow!”
Jonathan’s increasingly worried thoughts were interrupted as he bumped headfirst into the corner of the wall. He stumbled back and groaned, rubbing his forehead tenderly when he realized that he had somehow managed to make it to the very back of the mansion.
Squinting, he tried his best to adjust to the flickering candlelight that illuminated the darker side of the floor. Muffled laughter and clinking glasses could be heard from a few floors below him, and he sighed deeply.
He should probably get back before someone decided to come to look for him.
Trudging back down the hall, he passed by rows of doors, but quickly halted when he heard unusual noises coming from one of the bathrooms. Peeking under the door, sure enough, the lights in there were on.
That’s strange, he thought to himself, There’s a bathroom downstairs for the guests to use...why would anyone come all the way up here to—?
His thoughts were cut off as he froze with realization.
“...Dio?”
Sure enough, the noises from behind the door starting to sound an awful lot like sniffling stopped hard in their tracks. Frowning, Jonathan knocked softly on the door.
“Dio, is that you in there?” he asked through the keyhole, “Are you alright? I haven’t seen you in what feels like forever!”
Silence. Jonathan bit the inside of his cheek. So he wanted to play that game.
“Dio, I know it's you in there,” he finally said, knocking on the door again, “If you open up, maybe we can—”
“—Leave me be, Jojo! I’m fine!” an angered voice spat back at him. It might have just been the wine that his father let him have tonight, but Jonathan swore he could hear a bit of a waver in his voice, too.
“Are you sure?” he asked worriedly, “I haven't seen you in a while, and I want to make sure that you’re doing okay.”
There was a long, gruelling silence before Jonathan heard another muffled noise, then more silence. He never answered his question.
“Dio,” he urged, “If you don’t answer me, I’m opening this door.”
Jonathan was sure that the boy had heard him that time, and when silence came once more, he took a deep breath and turned the knob.
“Are you...”
Jonathan stopped in his tracks as the door swung open, and he finally spotted Dio...on the floor.
The boy was slumped up against the side of the tub, knees pulled up messily to his chest and head resting uncomfortably on the edge of the bathtub. The bathmat was scrunched up by his feet, and his hair was messy and dishevelled like he had run his hands through it one too many times.
“Dio—”
“Get out,” the boy snapped quickly, turning his head quickly away from him. His clothes were crumpled like he had been sitting there for god knows how long, “Get out, Jojo.”
There was a slight tremor in the boy’s shoulders that Jonathan could notice from the door. Had he walked in on Dio unaccounted at any other time, he would have run out in fear of getting beaten half to death, but something was different this time.
He looked...off.
He knew he would probably be free from pain if he just left and went on his way, but something about seeing his brother sitting on the floor looking so lost pulled on a few heartstrings—no matter how mean he could be.
Sighing, he shut the door softly behind him and cautiously walked a few steps towards him. When Dio didn’t respond, Jonathan took that as an invitation to kneel and sit down next to him.
Growling, Dio took this as an opportunity to swat at him, using his other arm to rub frantically at his eyes. Jonathan placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, which was also pushed away quickly.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” he muttered, finally turning to face him. Aside from his usual angry scowl, his eyes were red, and the tiniest bit of wetness was still apparent on his cheeks.
“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”
He clearly doesn’t have enough strength to ward me off, he thought to himself. That was never a good sign. The one thing Dio hated the most was acting weak in front of others.
Maybe he was more troubled than he thought, tonight.
“Are you feeling alright? Do you feel ill?” he asked gently, pressing the back of his hand against the boy’s forehead, feeling him flinch backward almost immediately.
“What the hell are you doing, you buffoon?” he seethed, crossing his arms over his chest and moving further into his corner.
“Checking to see if you’re warm,” Jojo said defensively. He wasn’t. Maybe the tremor in his shoulders wasn’t from being sick, after all.
“Oh…” Dio said quietly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Jojo scooted closer to him and dropped his hands non-threateningly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he snapped, wiping his nose with his sleeve and sniffling. He wasn’t very convincing.
“Do you want to talk about it? Erina told me she always feels better when she—”
“—No,” Dio snapped again. Jonathan thought to just drop the entire thing and leave when the crowd of people a floor below them suddenly erupted into an enormous fit of laughter, muffled noise vibrating the floor they were sitting on.
He watched as Dio’s shoulders tensed, and he lowered his head further into his knees the moment the aristocrats got louder.
It clicked.
“Not a fan of parties?” he asked softly. Dio just shook his head, muttering something about ‘too many damned rich people’ and sunk further into the ground.
He supposed it made sense why his brother was acting so strangely. It was his first giant party at the mansion, after all. And coming from such a small town before he came here, he supposed it would be difficult to get used to.
“I know they’re a bit overwhelming at first, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it quickly,” he said, trying to stay at least a little bit optimistic. Dio responded by groaning in irritation, shoulders tensing at the mention of it.
Jonathan sighed. He knew from experience that you could hear everything upstairs whenever they had parties this massive. He wished he could do something, but the doors were locked until the party was over, and they would definitely be caught trying to sneak out of the cook’s door in the kitchen.
...Unless…
“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, jumping up in excitement. Dio watched through half-lidded eyes as Jojo rummaged through the cupboards outside the bathroom and came back in with a pile of white sheets.
“What are you doing?” he asked quietly as Jonathan shut the door again and pulled out his pocket knife. With the blade, he cut two identical holes in the centre of the sheet and threw it over to Dio.
“No one will recognize us with these on,” he explained, cutting holes in the second sheet and throwing it over his head to match up with his eyes, “We’ll just look like party guests in costumes. Then we won’t get scolded if we get caught sneaking out.”
“Sneaking—?” Dio started, halting as Jonathan pulled him up quickly and draped the sheet over his head.
“Follow my lead,” he whispered, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him out of the bathroom.
Dio didn’t protest.
Sneaking out was surprisingly easy. Walking casually past the guests in their costumes and masks, the pair made it to the kitchen, which was, unsurprisingly, unlocked.
They dodged past chefs and servants, crouching behind tables and counters filled with food soon to be prepared. As soon as they were out the door, Jojo placed a block of wood between it and the wall so they could get back in later that night.
Pulling off the sheets and slinging them under their arms, Jonathan sighed in contentment.
“That was surprisingly clever for an idiot like you, Jojo,” Dio smirked. He seemed to revel in the sounds of the crickets drowning out the party noise from the house behind them.
The pair walked out into the grass before they both stopped without a word. What to do now?
“We could go down to the river?” Jonathan offered. Dio shrugged, and the two of them set out to the running water not too far away.
An owl cooed from somewhere in the trees, and Jonathan shivered, wrapping the sheet he was holding around his shoulders.
“You know, I’ve always wondered why they call it October,” he said thoughtfully, “Oct means eight, but it's the tenth month, isn’t it?”
“It's because of the Romans,” Dio scoffed, “They gave Julius and Augustus their own months, and it messed up the rest of the calendar.”
Jojo blinked. “Really?”
He wondered how Dio managed to know something like that, when his mind flashed to the piles of books filling his room. He thought he remembered him reading something about Roman history the last time he was in his room. Perhaps he should borrow it sometime.
“Say, Dio, what do you want to study when you’re older?”
“I don’t care as long as I’m reading about something,” he grunted back.
“You’re clever. I’m sure father would let you go anywhere you like,” he said. Dio shot him a poignant glare before his expression softened.
“Do you actually mean that, or are you just mocking me?”
Jojo frowned in confusion before shaking his head. “Why would I—?”
Oh.
“Dio, I wasn’t—”
“—Just shut up,” he grumbled back, “This conversation is over.”
It was silent until they reached the river.
The Joestar mansion was still in sight as Jonathan crept over to the rocky shore and placed his sheet on the misty ground.
“What would you like to do now?”
His words met empty air as he spotted Dio a few yards away, already taking sticks and snapping them in half across his knee. Jojo watched curiously as the blond dumped the pile of sticks in front of them, not too far from the river.
“It's bloody freezing out here,” Dio scoffed, getting down on one knee and grabbing two oddly-shaped rocks, “don’t think I can’t see you practically shaking out of your skin.”
Jojo laughed nervously but jumped back when the rocks in his hands started creating sparks. Soon, the pile of wood was flickering warmly, casting a shadow across the calm river.
“How do you know how to do that?” Jonathan asked in awe. Dio just grunted and set his sheet down next to Jonathan’s, sitting down silently.
It must have been well past eleven now. Jojo had no idea how long they’d been out there for, but the noises of party-goers in the distance proved that the event was still in full swing. The moon was the biggest he had ever seen it, but he couldn’t exactly remember the last time he got a good look at the moon.
“Father—my old father,” Dio cleared his throat, “He was always happiest on Halloween. Lots of alcohol. Everyone in town chipped in and bought everything. We used to throw massive bonfires every year—not that people like you would know anything about that.”
Jojo nodded but didn’t dare say a word.
“He let me light the fires each year,” he concluded briskly, catching the smile that was starting to graze his face. He straightened himself out again, “That’s how I know.”
“Do you miss it? Where you used to live?”
What a useless question.
“Of course not,” Dio snapped, “It was filthy. We were living in squalor, and my old father was a disgusting, crude old man. Of course, I don’t miss living there.”
Jonathan was silent for a moment, and Dio scoffed in disgust. Just like him to be choked up over something as stupid as this.
“Then why are you…?”
Jojo didn’t even need to finish his sentence before Dio realized what he was about to say and started swatting at his eyes the moment he felt the warm liquid spread to his cheeks.
He couldn’t help the sob that caught in his throat as he frustratingly tried to rid himself of such weakness. And in front of Jojo no less. How pathetic.
He barely even registered Jonathan’s arms wrapping around him. The flickering of the fire and the rushing of the river drowned out any noise of protest that he tried to make, and he found himself being quickly engulfed in an unfamiliar warmth, one that he hadn’t felt in years.
It was foreign, and he felt himself pulling away a few moments after. Confusion must have been visibly written all over his face because Jonathan’s expression softened, and his arms opened back up again.
“You can confide in me,” he said softly, and Dio never knew that his eyes could sparkle so bright because of him, “If you want to, that is.”
Swallowing hard, he felt himself come crashing back down like a wave against the shore. He was greedy. He wanted to feel that uncertain, wavering warmth again.
He hated Jonathan Joestar. His entire life, he was brought up to despise him. The reasons for all of his problems. The reason he was here now.
Dio Brando hated Jonathan Joestar.
But maybe just for tonight, he can just like Jojo.