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The cold winters eve couldn't sour the chipper Speedwagon's mood, for he was with a friend he loved quite dearly. Although, to say that Jonathan was merely his friend… was painful. Speedwagon knew that his love was unrequited; the fact was burned into his soul, but every time he was reminded that he couldn't keep Jojo to himself, it still managed to chip another crack in his spirit.
Eventually, Jojo broke him out of his thoughts, asking what should have been a simple question.
"Robert, what do you want to do for the rest of your life?"
The question startled Speedwagon.
"...I've never given much thought about my future, never thought I'd leave Ogre Street till' a couple of months ago," he replied, hoping that he sounded confident enough. He wished his friend knew that the night they met on Ogre Street, he had fallen head over heels for him.
"I hope I can grow old with Erina, and maybe one day, start a family with her."
Jonathan sounded so cheerful, and as much as Speedwagon wanted him to be happy, he wished that he was mentioned rather than Jojo's wife-to-be.
"I hope you are met with nothing but joy in your life, Mr. Joestar." Speedwagon paused rather awkwardly.
Jojo eventually interrupted the silent pause. Speedwagon's tone rubbed him the wrong way, and he grew worried for his friend.
"Robert… what's wrong? If something is bothering you, I will always be here to help you through it"
"I know."
"Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Speedwagon could feel tears in his eyes; he had so many things to say to the man sitting before him. He wanted to profess his love to Jojo, wanted to make him know that when he's with him, his heart flutters in a miraculous fashion, not unlike a butterfly. When he hears his voice, only after he has become lightheaded does he realize that he has been holding his breath to listen more clearly. He wished desperately that Jonathan Joestar, the man he had fallen hopelessly in love with, would love him back…
And so, desperately, though knowing his feelings would never be reciprocated, Speedwagon finally confessed:
"Jojo, I love you."
Jonathan's worried expression melted into one so caring, not even a mother could replicate the tenderness.
"I love you too, Robert, I love our friendship!"
Speedwagon could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, knowing Jojo didn't understand.
"No, Jojo, I love you…"
"... Oh."
The silence was agonizing.
Then the taller man spoke once more:
"Robert… I… I love you, but I'm not … in love with you."
Silence.
"I know."
Silence.
"I know… Jonathan, but I just needed to tell you."
Agony. Speedwagon felt pure agony and shame, trying to make eye contact with Jojo whilst blinking away tears. Still, he continued, stuttering his way through his doomed confession.
"Jojo, I know… you don't feel the same about me… I just want- I just love you. I love you and I've been in love with you but I know you love Erina and I just want to…" he cuts himself off, realizing he's been rambling. He felt pathetic, like a wet cat. He's never been so close to getting what he wants, he's professing his love to Jonathan. But what was his proclamation worth, if it's never reciprocated?
Finally, Speedwagon looks back up to see what expression Jonathan is wearing now, and to cue a response from him. But it became a staring match, one that Speedwagon so desperately wanted to be interrupted by the angel gazing at him. After a lengthy exhale, Speedwagon meekly breaks the silence.
"Please say something."
He knew it was cruel to make Jonathan comfort him.
And Jonathan couldn't help but look away, trying to spare his friend the shame of his rejection. Finally, he spoke to the woeful man across from him.
"I'm… proud of you. It must have been so, so difficult to tell me this… and I'm so truly sorry…" Jonathan stutters, helplessly trying and failing to find the words to tell his friend that there is no hatred between them, and there never will be.
The mind of Robert E. O. Speedwagon is composed of only regret and shame. His gaze is forlorn. He wonders "Why? Why did I ever tell him?" wishing desperately that he could move time backward and erase this deplorable conversation from the world's memory, from his memory, from Jojo’s. But he cannot, and he knows this in the back of his head, he knows this isn't a terrible dream he would awaken from once the sun met the sky. So he swallows his remaining shard of pride and asks a favor of the man who has already given him so much.
"Jonathan… All I want- all I need… is to kiss you once. Then please, I beg of you, forget this ever happened. Promise me nothing changes between us, please!"
Speedwagon becomes distraught as he pleads for his wish to be granted, worrying that he's only digging himself deeper into his grave. Then he feels Jonathan's hand on his cheek and looks back up at him. Speedwagon sees no ruth in Jonathan's eyes, no hatred, no condescending smirk, only compassion for the man whose cheek he bears in his palm. Speedwagon is reminded all over again why he loves Jonathan, the embodiment of kindness.
Speedwagon's thoughts- or lack thereof- paralyzed him. Until he felt Jonathan's lips softly, hesitantly, graze his own. And it only took a moment for Jonathan to pull Speedwagon into a real kiss. His hands subconsciously rise to hover beside Jojo's cheeks, wanting so much to cup his face and keep him there forever. The kiss was uncomfortable for them both, but it was long and remained chaste, despite Speedwagon's desire for Jonathan to go further with it.
Once they broke apart, Speedwagon already felt like it had happened an eternity ago; he wanted to hold on to the memory of Jojo's love, but it was already slipping away, already fading. And he started crying once more because he knew that he would never be able to kiss the man he loved again.
"Robert, look at me, you'll find somebody else. Someone better than me, who can reciprocate your love. This changes nothing between us. You're still my best friend, alright?" Jonathan embraces the weeping Speedwagon, assuring him that he'll always be there for him, that he is always valued. And by midnight, Speedwagon's tears had dried on his face once he had fallen asleep on the chest of the man he would ruin himself for.