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In a hotel room in Rome, Joseph tossed and turned restlessly. It was supposed to have been a quiet vacation away from the dreary weather of England, somewhere where he could let off some steam and enjoy himself. Now though, he was clutching to a piece of paper, cheeks burning red as his mind replayed the events of the day like a broken record.
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When he’d spotted a sign in town that day advertising a new nightclub, Joseph had been ecstatic. Sure, his Italian was a little rusty (in which he wasn’t the slightest bit fluent), but he could gather that there would probably be drinks and women, both of which he liked. It was also going to be a good excuse to wander away from his grandmother; for as much as he liked her, he was getting weary of treading around after her to take pictures of all the tourist attractions Rome had to offer.
That evening, Joseph frowned and stared into the hotel mirror to attempt to fix his hair. It was becoming evident that no amount of brushing was going to fix the stray locks springing up in every direction, so he gave up and shook his head from side to side before combing a hand through his hair.
Girls like guys with messy hair, right? Wait, are Italian girls any different from English ones? Will they understand my brilliant pickup lines?! He sighed out loud as doubts began to float through his mind. This won’t do, he thought. If he was going to make his mark on Rome, he needed to have full confidence in his abilities.
Putting his thumb and forefinger to his chin, Joseph gave a wink to himself in the mirror. He grinned at the sight - this was definitely more like the guy he knew, the guy destined to come home with someone beautiful at the end of the night.
Of course they’ll like me - I’m Joseph Joestar, damn it.
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After showing his ID to prove he was old enough to be there, Joseph wandered into the club. It was dim inside, save for a few strobe lights that periodically passed over the floor, and the air was warm with so many bodies in a small area. He pushed through the crowd at the front of the room, not giving a care to the random person he’d knocked to the floor before he reached the bar.
“ Ciao ,” Joseph said to the bartender with a wave of his hand. “I'll get whatever cocktail you recommend.”
Once he received the money, the bartender nodded and got to work vigorously mixing up a cocktail. There seemed to be a woman behind him yelling something at him in Italian, but neither him nor the bartender paid her any mind as the pale yellow liquid was poured into a glass and topped off with a mini straw.
“Enjoy your drink, sir.”
" Grazie ," Joseph replied, turning on his heel. However, as he was about to head towards the dance floor, he felt a firm tap on his shoulder.
“Hey you– English guy!”
Spinning around, he was met with the sight of another man – a local, from the look of his relaxed demeanor. The stranger rested the side of his head on his fingers, looking up at Joseph with a smug grin.
“You're new here, aren't you?” His voice was cheerful, but Joseph felt an underlying feeling that the man was sizing him up.
“So what if I am?” He replied confidently, putting a hand on his hip. “You got a thing against tourists?”
“Of course not. But you've got to work on your Italian, tesoro.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “The hell did you just call me?”
“My point exactly,” the stranger shot back with a laugh. “Anyway, someone behind you was using very colourful language because you decided to cut them in line. I thought English people were supposed to be… how do I put it… courteous and polite?”
“Hey, they were the ones in a crowd instead of an orderly queue!” Joseph protested, before taking a sip of his drink. He blinked a few times, having not expected a distinctly sour taste from the cocktail.
“Limoncello, huh?” The man remarked, pushing himself off the stool. “Well, enjoy it while the night's young. I'm going to go ask that lovely lady over there if she'd like a dance.”
“You're asking out girls already? That was what I was here to do!”
The man paused for a moment, then took a step forward towards Joseph. “Oh, is that so?”
“Uh, yeah it is.” For some reason, the tone of the stranger's voice made him unreasonably nervous, but he was determined to not make that obvious.
The man placed his hand on Joseph's shoulder and smiled. “Alright then, how about a challenge?”
“A challenge?”
“Yes, one between two men. Let's see who can convince the most girls to join us on the dance floor in an hour. We'll meet back at the bar afterwards to see who ends up winning.”
An hour?! Admittedly, Joseph had never managed to convince even one girl to go on a date with him in all his eighteen years, but he was far too prideful to back down from the challenge the stranger had proposed.
“You're on. Oh by the way, what's your name?”
“Caesar,” the man replied. “Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, mio caro .”
“I'm Joseph Joestar.” He swiped the drink from the bar, looking at Caesar with a fire in his eyes. “And I'll be sure not to disappoint.”
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As Joseph had quickly found out, convincing girls to dance with him was hard. Like, really hard. Especially in a language he wasn’t too familiar with.
Of course, he’d started off strong. With a blinding smile and his arms positioned against his body in a way to show off his biceps, he’d walked up to the first group of girls he’d seen and asked all of them to dance. They had proceeded to give him a collective eyeroll and wander off without a word. He’d considered it a harsh rejection, sure, but surely it wasn’t something he couldn’t bounce back from, right?
However, about twenty minutes in, he’d decided for the sake of his pride that if he had to hear the mumbled phrase of “sorry, I don’t understand you” one more time that night, he wouldn’t be showing his face in Rome for the rest of the vacation.
Now on his third drink and with fifteen minutes to go, Joseph stood with his foot against the wall, observing the dancefloor that Caesar seemed to be frequenting regularly. Underneath the lights that bathed its bodies in hot pinks and greens, he could properly observe the man who’d he’d made a bet with. As much as he hated to admit it, Caesar was so much better with people’s hearts than he was. He carried himself with a graceful air, even with the restraints of the hands of doting women running along his body. He danced to the rhythm naturally, hips swaying like those of a professional. And as for his body, though not as muscular as his own, even Joseph had to admit that his physique wasn’t something to downplay.
Damn him, Joseph thought, narrowing his eyes. What was the great Caesar Zeppeli doing right that he wasn’t?!
Just then, a woman with long blonde hair approached him. She was dressed fairly plainly, not quite having the initial alluring appeal of the other women he’d tried to talk to, but still being endearing enough to pique his interest.
“You’re stuck alone too, huh?” It was the first English voice Joseph had heard in a while that didn’t have a distinctive Italian twang to it.
“I’m– I’m just taking a break!” he lied hastily, before tilting his head back to down the rest of his drink. It seemed to give him a little more composure, so he followed it up with, “Hey, I bet I can predict your next line though!”
Putting a hand on her hip, she leaned in. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah! Your next line is going to be: oh beautiful stranger, will you dance with me?”
She laughed and looked over at the dance floor. “Embellishments aside, that was going to be my next line. So, will you?”
“Of course I will!” He exclaimed and held out his hand with a flourish.
She smiled, placing her hand in his. “Sounds wonderful. You’ll be my first dance of the night.”
Finally, his mind was practically screaming as they made it to the dancefloor, I can say I’ve danced with a girl!
The next song that began to play was a little slower than the one before it, which left some breathing room for a few conversations and a few more jealous glances over at Caesar who had decided to forgo the dancefloor for a drink (and an evidently flirty chat with one of the women who had rejected Joseph).
“So tell me Joseph,” the woman said as she moved lightly to the music, “how old are you?”
“Eighteen,” he replied, nearly elbowing someone in the ribs to dramatically push his hair back.
Laughing, she coaxed herself and Joseph into a less crowded part of the dancefloor. “I figured as much.”
“Now what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“I’m twenty five, darling. Even though you’re an adult, and you look like one too, I feel like I’m dancing with a little kid.”
Joseph groaned, his large arms falling to his sides. “You’re kidding me!”
His woeful reaction elicited a sympathetic pat on the back from the woman. “You really are a lovely young man, don’t get me wrong! You’re just a little… inexperienced.”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “Okay then old lady, even if I am , what gives it away?”
“You’re trying too hard,” she replied playfully. “And as well as that, I’m not sure you actually know what you want.”
Joseph stopped in his tracks. “Wait, what I want…?”
Her eyes followed the direction Joseph had glanced in towards Caesar, who gave them both an air kiss. “A word of advice for you, Joseph: don’t try to compete with that Caesar Zeppeli. His charms are unmatched. Maybe even you’ve been caught up in them.”
Her heels clicked as she stepped off the dancefloor and waved. “Have a nice rest of your night!”
As she left, Joseph sighed and took out his phone. The hour had been up at least two minutes ago, and he’d barely managed to score one woman to give him a pep talk.
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“Oh, it’s been such a slow night,” Caesar lamented, motioning the bartender over for yet another cocktail. “Only fifteen girls so far, would you believe!”
Joseph scowled, watching the blonde haired man sitting next to him at the bar intently. He was definitely not fully sober anymore, but he had more than enough sense left in him to still be salty over losing the bet, and losing it with a fifteen to one ratio at that. “Well, that sounds very difficult for you, Caesar.”
Caesar smiled, leaning closer to Joseph. “Aww JoJo, don’t get upset now. Even one lady is a good start. I’m sure with a little guidance from me, you’ll improve quickly.”
His fingers traced Joseph’s face, before arriving at his forehead to give it a flick. The other man’s breath hitched. Why did Caesar still seem flirtatious, when it was just the two of them sitting at the bar?
“Well, maybe you only get girls because they think you’re easy to be with,” Joseph retorted, poking his finger sharply into Caesar’s chest. “You’re like free eye candy – even the sub-par hags will think they have a chance if you just throw yourself around like that.”
Don’t try to compete with that Caesar Zeppeli.
“How dare you speak about women like that!” Caesar exclaimed, grabbing his cocktail and downing the whole thing in one gulp. “Have you no respect for the ladies in your life?”
Joseph scoffed and leaned back. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t consider toying with their hearts a sign of respect, Caesarino.”
“Caesarino? That’s a new one.”
“Yeah, bet you’re not used to people challenging you, are you?”
Caesar placed his fingers on his forehead and sighed. “I’ve had a fair number of encounters with guys who have a mouth on them, but you’re something else. And here I thought it’d be easy to sway you.”
“Encounters? Are you the type of guy to get into fights?”
He sent Joseph a wink, and the latter felt his heartbeat speed up. “Something like that.”
Despite his sudden nervousness, Joseph brought his two fists together and looked Caesar in the eye. “Alright then! You wanna go outside and settle this? Because let me tell you, I can definitely hold my own in a fight.”
Caesar simply chuckled, gently lowering Joseph’s fists with the palm of his hand. “Oh no, JoJo. We’re going to settle things right here at this little bar.”
Wait, did this guy always have soft hands? Surely those weren’t a fighter’s hands, Joseph’s bewildered mind thought.
“Here? Won’t we get kicked out for causing a disturbance?”
“See, that’s your muscles talking instead of your brain,” Caesar replied coolly. “How we’re going to resolve things is going to be nice and quick – but it’s up to you to decide if you’re going to walk out of here uninjured. These muscles aren’t just for show you know, tesoro.”
“Again with that bloody word,” Joseph muttered half to himself. “What the hell are you–”
Suddenly, Caesar grabbed him by his shirt and pulled the man closer to him until their foreheads knocked together and with his other arm, he gripped Joseph’s shoulder to prevent the man from turning to escape. Joseph could practically feel the other man’s breath on him, the scent of fruity alcohol filling his senses to the brim.
“So,” Caesar whispered, squeezing tighter on Joseph’s arm, “are you gonna try and knock the wind out of me?”
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the fatigue of having been rejected so many times in one night, but time seemed to slow for Joseph. Up close, he could take in Caesar’s face properly, specifically his sea-green eyes that flashed bright as the lights passed over them. He was finally face to face with the eyes of a man who’d swooned so many women that night, and likely many more in the past. The perfect ladies’ man.
His charms are unmatched. Maybe even you’ve been caught up in them.
Despite his looks, this man was easily provoked into outrage. He was conceited, leading women on for a brief few minutes of romance before moving onto the next like a child flitting from one toy to another. In short, he was exactly the kind of guy that drove Joseph right up the wall. And yet… something about him...
Tilting his head, Joseph leaned back for just a second, giving him an ample angle to smash his head into Caesar’s and drive his fist into the man’s stomach to end the conflict swiftly.
"Take this, Caesar."
However, his body wouldn’t follow instructions. He softened into Caesar, hand instead grabbing a fistful of the man’s blonde hair to pull him into a dizzying kiss. Joseph was clumsy at first, movements inhibited by a lack of coordination from the alcohol, but the more experienced Caesar was eventually able to coax him into a soft and steady rhythm that lasted several seconds before Joseph finally pulled away to gasp for air.
For a moment, Joseph allowed himself to indulge in his vehement denial of what had just happened. Of course he didn't really kiss him. He just bumped his head a bit too hard - he was simply confused! But then he looked to the man directly opposite him - the man whose hair was slightly more ruffled than it was a few minutes ago, cheeks a little redder, and whose lips were just slightly parted in a way that was making him feel inexplicably hot all over - and swallowed. He’d just kissed a guy, a terribly annoying guy, and he’d… liked it?
“So that’s how you decided to resolve this then, JoJo,” Caesar eventually said, leaning back in to rest his hand on Joseph’s thigh. “I didn’t think you had it in you to do that .”
Joseph began to splutter, for once being at a loss for words. “I – I don’t like you! I don’t like men! What the hell just happened?!”
“It seems my dashing good looks only grow stronger by the day,” he replied airily, placing the back of his palm on his forehead, “like a beautiful rose cultivated in Eden. Soon, no-one will be able to resist the likes of me, Caesar–”
“Will you pull your head out of your arse for one moment?! That was my first kiss! And now it’s been stolen!”
Caesar laughed, before taking the two glasses of water from the bartender he’d apparently asked for in the brief moments where Joseph had been too dazed. “I hardly stole it – not when you’d gone into it with that much enthusiasm. But I can always steal your second, mio caro .”
After taking a few sips of the water, Joseph’s gaze lingered on Caesar’s lips before he drove himself off the stool. He wasn’t thinking straight, his mind a disorderly junkyard of feelings and emotions he couldn’t quite grasp, so his best bet was to utilise his last resort strategy.
“I think I’m gonna go back to my hotel for some fresh air,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
“I understand,” Caesar replied with a shrug. “It’s hard to keep up with someone as fantastic as me. Just one more thing before you go.”
He pressed a piece of paper into Joseph’s palm, and gave him a pat on the back. “If you manage to sort out that internal conflict of yours, give me a call. You’re a pretty fun guy, JoJo.”
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Joseph looked back over to his phone sitting on the bedside table. 12:30am, it read. God, why had he kissed that man? Was it something in his subconscious? A drunken mistake? A brief moment of curiosity, to see what all the hype about him was? His relationship plans for his life had always been clear-cut, but now a vexingly beautiful spanner had been thrown into the works. He could brush his feelings off, ignore it, repress it for another year or two. But running away was only a temporary strategy, and to leave things unresolved with someone was simply not the Joestar way, in his opinion. Whether he could accept it yet or not, he wouldn’t be satisfied to leave Rome without meeting again with the man who’d awoken something within him.
Looking back to the paper in his hand, now crumpled from being held for hours on end, he let out a loud sigh before snatching his phone from its charging lead. He dialled in the number carefully to make sure he wasn’t about to wake up someone random, then jabbed at the call button.
The call was picked up almost immediately, with a faint rustle being heard before Caesar’s sleepy sounding voice came in. “ Ciao , this is Caesar Anthonio Ze-”
“Hey Caesarino, you said to call if I sorted out my conflict right?”
“Ah, it’s you JoJo. Have you made your decision?”
“I… I think I have a type for blondes,” Joseph said in a hurry, grateful that Caesar couldn’t see his face going even redder. “And, uh, well, I’m still figuring a couple things out, but I have decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to see you again.”
“That’s good to hear,” Caesar replied with a chuckle. “So, how long will you be in Rome?”
“Tomorrow’s our last day before my grandmother and I fly back to England. She wanted this to be a nice vacation, but frankly I think some of the sights here were hyped up a little too much.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point,” Caesar agreed. “So, how does coffee sound? There's a quiet little spot just out of town if you're up for a walk.”
“Coffee? Yeah, coffee sounds good." Joseph paused, before adding, "Hey, I bet I can predict your next line!”
Caesar scoffed over the phone. “Yeah right – as if you could ever–”
“Your next line is: goodnight then, mio caro . Well? Did I get it right?”
"You're an idiot, JoJo. Well, goodnight then m-"
There was a moment of silence, and then the phone lit up in Joseph's hand to show that the call had ended.