Chapter Text
From the moment Speedwagon realized that there were doors hidden behind the curtains at the edge of the room, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about a way to get out of the party.
It's not like he was shy—far from it, in fact—it's just that he hadn't had a moment to take a breath since he got here, what with everyone so desperate to meet him. Hell, he felt like he’d barely had a moment these past two months, since coming into his fortune and making his entrance into high society. Everyone wanted to meet Robert E. O. Speedwagon, the latest rags-to-riches sensation.
So when he finally got his chance—excused from one conversation and not yet scooped up into another—he spared no time, taking a quick glance around before slipping behind the curtain and out the fancy French doors he found there. He spared one look back to ensure the curtain had fallen back into place before letting out a huge sigh. The summer air was warm and humid, stuffy compared to the air-conditioned mansion, but he took in a deep breath of it anyway, loosening his tie.
“Christ alive…” he said, slumping over the carved stone railing. “These rich twats are harder to crack than the pope’s arsehole. It’s like I’m a fuckin’ dancin’ monkey or somethin’. Would it kill them to lighten the fuck up?” Speedwagon liked to talk, but he hadn’t had the chance to say a natural sentence all day. So here in this private moment, he was perhaps overcompensating a little, letting free everything he’d been holding back. “Fuckin’ hell!” he shouted, hopefully just quiet enough to not be heard through the windows. It felt good.
“Um, pardon me,” a voice said beside him, and Speedwagon practically jumped three feet into the air.
He looked to see a young man in an unbuttoned suit sitting on the ground, an open book in his lap. Even with his heart still racing from the shock, he couldn’t help noticing his thick, dark hair, and the way he was staring up at him quizzically with the most gorgeous brown eyes he’d ever seen.
But still what he said was, “Holy shit! You can’t just sneak up on a guy like that, you almost gave me a damn heart attack!”
The young man’s lips twitched into a small smile, clearly a polite attempt at holding back laughter. “In my defense,” he said, “I was here first.”
“Dunno how the hell didn’t I notice, you’re fuckin’ huge—” Oh, this was going just wonderfully. This is what he got for loosening his filter a moment ago. “I’m sorry, that was fuckin’ rude wasn’t it—Shit, I guess that was too. I mean—”
The man let loose the laugh he’d been holding, and his full smile was just as dazzling as his eyes. “You don’t need to worry about that. After all, I heard everything just a moment ago, too.”
Speedwagon offered his own nervous smile in return. “Any chance you’ll forget you heard any of that?”
“I know who you are. You’re Robert Speedwagon,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell any of those, er… ‘rich twats’ what you said.”
Speedwagon didn’t hold back a grin after hearing those words said by such a posh guy. “Heh, everyone at this party seems to know who I am. Who’re you?”
“Jonathan Joestar. Everyone calls me Jojo.”
He held out a hand, and Speedwagon shook it even though he had no intention of going back to his civilized persona while he could help it. He wondered where he’d heard that name before, and remembered being introduced to a George Joestar, a bigshot in the business community. This must be his son.
“So Jojo, how come you’re hidin’ out here? Since clearly it’s not to let loose your old sailor’s mouth like me.”
“I’m not the best at parties,” Jojo said, almost apologetically, motioning to the book in his lap as though it was all the explanation he needed to give. “My brother Dio—I’m sure you’ve met him, since he’s always right in the thick of things—is the one who’s good at this stuff, not me.”
Speedwagon wracked his brains, and did recall getting introduced. The blond had been perfectly charming, but Speedwagon sensed a snakelike sharpness behind his smile. It’d given him bad vibes from the start.
“Still, it might not be so bad if my father wasn’t currently trying to set me up with every eligible daughter in society,” Jonathan continued.
“What, a handsome young man like you doesn’t like an endless stream of pretty girls comin’ your way?”
“Ha, I bet he’d be introducing me to lads too if he knew I also—" he cut himself off abruptly, his face turning bright pink.
Speedwagon raised his eyebrows before giving Jonathan a shrug and a smile. He mimed zipping his lips and tossing away the key. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” Although he was definitely filing that very relevant information away for his own personal use.
“A-Anyway, I don’t even know them! How am I supposed to fancy someone I don’t even know? And getting to know them is rather dampened by the fact of them drooling over my fortune.”
“Your fortune?” Speedwagon asked, “Sorry, but I thought everyone at these things was filthy fuckin’ rich.”
“It’s… well… honestly, it’s probably the name attached to it more than the money itself. It’s a prestige thing.”
“You might’a figured it out from how I so eloquently put it a minute ago, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand your kinda people. There’s all these little unwritten things I can’t get the hang of, like that.
“You’re new here,” Jonathan said encouragingly, “I’m sure you’ll pick it up.”
Speedwagon waved it off. “Not so sure about that. Unlike you, I love makin’ introductions, shakin’ the hands of everyone in the room. And I know how to behave, I think, hell knows I've been dialin’ it in with the language and all that shit, puttin’ on the charms. I’m good at that! And it’s… it’s fine, I guess. Everyone’s polite. But it’s like there’s some secret rule I’m breakin’ or somethin’ and I just can’t get through to any of ‘em.” Given the chance to vent, he didn’t hold back. It was frustrating, molding himself into the shape this society demanded and still not being able to become part of it.
“No wonder you’re hiding out here with me.” Jonathan gave him a sympathetic smile.
And a lightbulb went on in Speedwagon’s head.
“How ‘bout we make a deal,” he said. “Since neither of us can hide out here forever.”
“What kind of deal?” Jonathan was apprehensive.
“If I see your father tryin’ to make any more introductions, I’ll bail you out. In return, teach me some of the things I might not know.”
While Jojo looked unsure, Speedwagon thought he could see a little glimmer of excitement in his eyes at the prospect of not having to socialize.
“Are you sure you want to ask me? The one out here reading during the party?”
“You’re just the man for the job! We’re perfectly suited to help each other out. And you already know my little secret,” Speedwagon said with a wink.
“Well… alright then, deal.”
Now it was Speedwagon’s turn to reach out his hand, and they shook on it.
“Ah, I guess they’ll be wonderin’ where I am by now,” Speedwagon sighed, doing up his tie once again. “How do I look?”
“Like you were never out here!” Jonathan said with a thumbs up.
“Well ain’t that bloody wonderful. Wish me luck, and maybe I’ll see you in there in a few.” He patted Jojo’s shoulder on his way through the door, slipping effortlessly back into the party.
The man had been right, Jonathan couldn't hide out forever. Eventually he had to bite the bullet and drag himself back to the party, or his father and Dio would be cross with him. So after straightening his tie and smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit jacket, he too went back inside. His father caught his eye immediately, though luckily Jonathan only saw relief there and not annoyance.
"Jojo, there you are!" his father said, walking up to him and settling a hand on his back. "I've got someone I'd love to introduce you to!"
Of course he did.
Jonathan held back a sigh. "Lead the way, father," he said instead, resigning himself. He didn't really expect Speedwagon to follow through on his end of the bargain—not when the man was so popular and in high demand at parties these days. Still, it had been nice of him to offer. Jonathan plastered on a polite smile as his father ushered him over to a girl in a pink dress whose mother stood beside her.
"Penelope!" Mr. Joestar greeted the older woman, "I'd love to introduce you two to my son, Jonathan. Jojo, this is Penelope Adkins and her daughter, Adele."
"A pleasure to meet you," Jonathan said automatically, knowing the script from the countless other introductions that had been forced upon him.
"Jonathan is one of the star players on his college rugby team!" Mr. Joestar said, the two women responding with sounds of interest. He hated how his father always led with that, as though mentioning what he was actually studying at college was too embarrassing. What was worse was the fact that everyone seemed so very intrigued by it, when rugby wasn't really something he had much interest in off the field.
"Wow," Adele Adkins leaned forward with the expected amount of interest. "I'm sure you must train so hard!"
Jonathan tried to keep a polite face on despite the uncomfortable itch that had gotten under his skin. What was he supposed to say to something like that? "Um, I mean, I'm pretty used to it by now."
It was as Jonathan was desperately trying to think of something to fill the silence before it got awkward that a jovial voice boomed from over his left shoulder.
"Mr. Joestar!" Speedwagon showed up, inserting himself into their little group and, just slightly, blocking Jonathan from the conversation. "So glad to see you again, and you as well, Mrs. Adkins, Miss Adkins. Say, it just came up as I was talking to someone else, and I know we had discussed travel before, so I wondered, did I ever tell you all about the trip I took to the Caribbean? Well, it ended up being in the middle of a hurricane, so as you can imagine it was pretty exciting..." he tossed a quick wink over his shoulder at Jonathan, who had been effectively forgotten. Then he turned back to the others, instantly engrossing them in his story.
Jonathan blinked at how quick and easy it had been for him to take over the conversation. His father and the others didn't even seem bothered by the intrusion. Though Speedwagon's back was to him now, Jonathan gave a genuine smile before taking his chance to scurry over to the dessert table before anyone noticed he'd left the conversation.
As the event was winding down, Speedwagon was cheerfully saying his goodbyes to some of the other guests when Jonathan approached him.
"You really saved me back there!" The gratitude was clear in both his voice and his smile.
Speedwagon gave a half shrug. "Told ya I would."
"I owe you one, I really mean it. Um, I'd like to invite you over after the party, if that's alright with you. It would be a good chance for me to give you some pointers like you wanted."
"I mean, no need to feel obligated, but I'll take you up on that offer as long as I'm allowed to loosen this damn tie while I'm there." Speedwagon kept his voice low so the others in the room didn't hear his language, and it made Jonathan smile.
"It's a deal. Then we're set! My family's headed home now, but here's the address. Come whenever you're finished here." He passed over a calling card—an actual, honest-to-god calling card—to Speedwagon. "I'm sure your driver won't have a difficult time finding the address." Then, with a slight bow and a wave over his shoulder, he followed his father and Dio out of the room.
Speedwagon ran his fingers over the glossy text on the card. He hadn't expected to be invited to Jojo's house. Being invited to a party was one thing—even if these kinds of people were somewhat foreign to him, at least he knew how to get along at a party. But one-on-one...?
Well, he supposed, that's why he was meeting up with Jojo in the first place, and at least he seemed like a reasonable guy.
It was a while before Speedwagon had been able to extract himself from those saying their farewells, so he was spared the awkwardness of following along behind the Joestars' town car. He didn’t have anything like a driver, hell, he was still getting used to the fact that his new silver sportscar had GPS, but it was probably better not to point that out. When he pulled up outside the mansion at the address on the card he'd been given, the valet was already waiting for him.
"Evenin'!" Speedwagon greeted him as he got out and passed over the keys. Then added in a quieter voice, "Take her out for a spin if ya want, just don't keep her out too late." He gave the valet a wink.
"Uhm, I wouldn't dream of it, sir," the valet said, clearly taken aback.
Speedwagon laughed, "I'm sure you would, but don't worry about it. Here." He passed a tip into the man's hand, a roll of bills, and patted him on the shoulder before he could say anything about it. "Have a good night!" he called as he headed toward the mansion's door.
Jonathan felt a little nervous. He'd never really invited someone over before, and even though there was a clear purpose to Speedwagon's visit, he wasn't sure what to do. Things were always much more structured when his father had guests, and besides, usually his role in those visits was just to be polite. But his father and Dio had both left again for some other engagement, so now it was only him.
He was pacing one of the parlors, trying to figure out if it was more acceptable to be sitting or standing when Speedwagon arrived when he heard a knock on the door. Moments later, it swung open to reveal the butler.
“Young master Joestar, there’s a Mr. Speedwagon here to see you.”
“Please send him in.”
“As you wish, sir.” The butler stepped away for a moment, and soon opened the door again, ushering Speedwagon inside.
"Wow, whatta place!" Speedwagon said as he walked into the ornately furnished room. "And I thought my house was big! Nice to see you again.”
Speedwagon’s easy attitude immediately dissolved some of Jonathan’s nerves. “Please, sit,” he said, and Speedwagon took a seat on the couch. Jonathan sat in the chair beside it, facing Speedwagon across the corner of the coffee table.
Speedwagon loosened his tie just as he said he would. “Now that’s better!” he said with a relaxed sigh.
Inspired, Jonathan loosened his tie too. “I’ve been trying to think of some advice I could give that you may not know,” he said. “But I hope it won’t just come across as criticism.”
Speedwagon waved his hand. “No no, I asked for this. Lay it on me.”
"Then there's one thing that I can tell you right away," Jonathan said. "Your suit—it's nice, where did you get it?"
"Ah... that upscale store in town up on high street. If you'll believe it, this is the first time I've had to buy one, so I just went to the place that looked most fancy."
"People can tell," Jonathan said, and Speedwagon gave him a look that said he didn't follow why that was a problem. "Everyone at these functions has their suits and dresses tailor-made. Yours is nice, and it looks good on you, but people who are used to these sorts of things can tell it isn't custom."
"You're kiddin'..." He picked at the collar of the suit. “I got the most expensive one they had, since I figured that’s what rich folks do. You’re tellin’ me that just makes me stick out like even more of a sore thumb?”
Jonathan gave him an apologetic look. "I hate to say it, but some people can look down on things like that, so if you feel like they're not fully accepting you..."
"Well fuck me," Speedwagon said. "Ya learn somethin’ new every day." He shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over the back of the couch.
It was then the maid entered the room carrying a tray of tea, and Jonathan was glad for something to interrupt the uncomfortable atmosphere that had formed. Then again, Speedwagon had asked for his advice, so maybe the discomfort was all his own.
"Ah, thank you," Speedwagon said as the maid set the teacups on the table and began to pour. He took a long swig of his the moment she had finished.
Jonathan nearly opened his mouth to inform him that this was another thing that set him apart—thanking the staff. But he felt bad immediately upon the realization. Why was that considered wrong in the first place? Would he be remiss in his duty if he didn’t bring it up?
But no, he wouldn’t have wanted Speedwagon to change that habit, and he doubted the man would agree to anyway. If anything, maybe he should start. But the maid had already left.
"Oh, but I can give you the card of the tailor my family uses!” Jonathan was glad for the chance to offer a solution rather than criticism. “I'm sure he could make you something in a similar style, if that's what you wanted.” Since he’d been brainstorming on the ride back home about what advice he could give, he had the card for Zeppeli Tailors ready.
Speedwagon took the card and regarded it. "Another thing... what's with all these cards? I mean, I got business cards, sure, but what you gave me before you left tonight... do I gotta get those too?"
"Um, I mean, it depends if you'll be extending invitations to anyone. People prefer them to be formal. And people will expect formal thank you cards after an event like that, too. If you felt some people were being cold towards you, that may have been why."
"Jeez," Speedwagon said, "Haven't you people ever heard of saving a tree?"
That made Jonathan laugh, which seemed to cheer Speedwagon up after hearing about so many things he'd been doing wrong.
"What about you?" he asked.
"Pardon me?" Jonathan replied, confused.
"If I was gonna invite you over, do I need a card and everythin’?"
"I'm not so picky." Jonathan smiled. "You could just ask me."
Speedwagon seemed a little flustered, though only for a moment. "Y’see, the thing I'm really worried about is this black tie charity gala comin’ up at the end of the summer. I can't dance worth shit, but I can't get out of it, can I?" He looked up at Jonathan, hopeful. But Jojo could only reply with a sympathetic frown and a shake of his head. The end of summer gala was a familiar event for him, as it was run by the charitable arm of his father's company. Skipping it would be considered social suicide. "Damn it, thought so. Is that somethin’ you could help me with too?"
"Well... I'm no prodigy or anything, but I have been learning since I was young, so I’m sure I could.” Unsure as he was about his own teaching abilities, he felt an odd excitement at the prospect of spending more time with Speedwagon. His stomach dropped a moment later, though, suddenly struck with the thought of his new friend visiting when Dio was at home. People rarely stuck around him long when the golden boy was in the room. "L-Let’s practice at your place!” he suggested.
"Perfect! You're a real lifesaver. I don't have one of those fancy cards, so gimme your phone." He held out his hand. "I'll put my number in and text you the address."
Jonathan passed it to him and Speedwagon bent over the two phones, tapping away at the screens, taking the chance to get Jojo’s number too.
"I wanted to say thank you again for what you did at the party. It really helped me out," Jonathan said once Speedwagon's attention wasn't fully on him.
"Hm? Of course, I said I would."
"I know, it's just... it was kind of you, to really follow through on it. You have no idea how much I hate introductions."
Speedwagon stopped what he was doing to look up at Jonathan for a moment. His brown eyes had a soft sort of concern in them that made Jonathan want to fidget. Luckily, Speedwagon turned back to the phones and cleared his throat a little. "Hey, anytime! I mean, we got this deal goin' on after all. And once I get a fancier suit and a pile of thank you cards, I'm sure that paired with my natural charm I'll be able to get away with all sorts of interruptions." He glanced back up at Jonathan with a half smile and a wink this time, and Jonathan automatically felt lighter.
"Oh right!" he said, "Sorry if you know this already, but when they call the gala black tie, it doesn't mean just that you have to wear a tie that's black."
He tried not to laugh at the look that Speedwagon gave him, both incredulous and dismayed at the same time. "Just ask Mr. Zeppeli to make you something for it, he'll ensure everything's in order."
"Damn it, I'm lucky I met you." Speedwagon gave a little pat to Jonathan's knee. "Like my own personal rich-people-whisperer or somethin'. Here." He handed back Jonathan's phone to him, and he saw that Speedwagon had entered his name into his contacts with a little wing emoji next to it.
“You can text me anytime,” Jonathan said excitedly, “I don’t have classes right now, so I’m available most of the time.”
“Let’s get started soon, then. I got a hell of a lot to learn.”