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Jojo had been recovering in the hospital for several weeks now, and in the meantime, Speedwagon was doing all he could to help. It still wasn’t easy for him to get in for a proper visit, but there was plenty of things he could do out in the city. Jojo had lost everything when the mansion burned to the ground, and being a young affluent man, he didn’t yet know how to handle the various daily tasks he’d need to—to say nothing of the fact that he was still recovering from some fairly severe injuries.
Speedwagon, on the other hand, liked meddling in other people’s business, and particularly Jojo’s. Anything the man needed, he offered to do. So Speedwagon had spent this time ferrying messages between banks and lawyers, picking up everything the young gentleman might need. He knew everything there was to know about London, and put that knowledge to good work for Jojo’s sake. Despite having suffered injuries of his own, Speedwagon never let himself slow down. He’d always healed on the move anyway; there was no rest for the wicked as the saying went, so he was used to it—even though now his restless behaviour was in service of something good. He considered his own injuries nothing compared to Jojo’s, and indeed he did seem to heal faster despite always being on the go.
When he finally got word of when Jojo would be released, Speedwagon got to work right away finding him a place to stay. Jojo had admitted he’d never done something like book a hotel room before—it had always been handled by his father. It was a quality Speedwagon might roll his eyes at in anyone else, but when it was Jojo, he found the lack of experience downright adorable. So, armed with some bank notes and Jojo’s calling card, he’d made sure to secure a nice suite for him. It wasn’t easy getting the folks at the finer hotels to take him seriously, but Speedwagon was nothing if not persistent. Jojo deserved to have someplace secure to continue with his recovery, and Speedwagon would be damned if he wouldn’t get it.
Though chilly, it had been a bright sunny day when Jojo was released from the hospital. Speedwagon stood just outside the gate waiting to pick him up, a bunch of fresh-cut flowers in his hand.
When Jojo saw him, a smile spread over his face. He hobbled over as fast as he could, supported by his cane. Seeing the young man in such a state caused Speedwagon’s heart to squeeze in his chest, but that sunny smile made everything worth it. He hurried over to assist.
“Look at you, up and walkin’!” Speedwagon greeted him when he made it over.
“It feels nice to be out in the sun again! I’d give you a hug, but, well...” Jojo indicated his left arm, still in a cast, and his right, which held the cane.
“I can fix that,” Speedwagon said, giving the young man half a hug, careful not to bother his injuries. He slipped the flower bouquet into the crook of Jojo’s cast, that much at least easy to carry. Jojo was easy with his affections no matter what their surroundings—just another sweet display of his naïveté. Speedwagon, on the other hand, had to rein himself in. Not just because he knew about the dangers of society’s suspicions, but because he suspected his own affections carried a much different motive than the young man’s.
“Are you feelin’ hungry? I know they feed you like birds in the hospital. Let me treat you to a proper meal!” Speedwagon said, fussing over him.
“I’m always feeling hungry,” Jojo accepted his offer with a laugh. It was nice to see a smile on the young gentleman’s face, after such dark times.
Speedwagon had been expecting such an answer, so he brought Jojo to nearby café he’d scouted out earlier, letting him order absolutely anything he wanted. Pastries, cakes, thick stew and Ceylon tea loaded with cream and sugar. Anything they wouldn’t let him have in the hospital. Speedwagon slowly ate his own sandwich and pastry while watching the gentleman dine, his heart bursting with affection. His own finances would suffer from an indulgence like this, but it was, of course, all worth it for this man who’d stolen his heart entirely. Speedwagon was no stranger to lean times after all; but for Jojo this had been a trial. He’d need all he could get to recover his strength.
After Jojo had eaten his fill and was satiated, Speedwagon set about escorting him to the hotel he had arranged. The winter sun was already getting low in the sky, so he was anxious to get Jojo somewhere safe and warm for the night. He hoped Jojo would be pleased with the accommodation he’d chosen; he’d only guessed at what the young gentleman would require. Always one to follow through until the end, Speedwagon accompanied Jojo up to his door, helping him navigate the hotel’s stairs and hallways.
“I’ll get outta your hair now, Mr. Joestar,” Speedwagon said, smoothing the lapel of Jojo’s jacket which had become crinkled during their process. He truly couldn’t help but fuss over every little thing, and he was sure even a saint like Mr. Joestar must be tired of it by now. “You’ve had a big day, I’m sure you’ll want your rest. Send word in the mornin’ if there’s anythin’ you need, yeah?”
Jojo nodded, unusually reticent, but Speedwagon figured it was just exhaustion. Walking about town would be hard on anyone who’d just been on bed rest for so long. “I mean it, don’t hesitate to call, no matter how small a thing. Sleep well, Mr. Joestar. I’ll see you later.” With a final pat on Jojo’s chest, he turned to withdraw.
He only made it two steps when from behind him he heard Jojo’s voice.
“Um, Robert...”
Speedwagon turned on his heel. “Yeah?”
“This is going to sound silly...” Jojo looked away, embarrassed. “But I’ve, um, never stayed in a hotel on my own before.”
Speedwagon chuckled. “It works just like any bedroom, Jojo. The staff here are good too, they won’t give you a hard time if you ask for anythin’. I made sure of it.”
“It’s just that I...” Jojo continued, “I’ve been having nightmares, sometimes. Do you think you might... Um, would you stay with me?”
Jojo’s blue eyes hit Speedwagon’s with the most adorably imploring expression he’d ever seen. It was a wonder he didn’t combust right there on the spot. For a meddler, such a thing was the strongest fuel.
“Say no more, Jojo. I’m happy to help.” He took charge and ushered Jojo in through the door. “Only thing is, the room I booked you only has one bed.”
Surveying the suite, Jonathan said, “I think the bed’s big enough that you could sleep in it, too.”
“Mr. Joestar, I couldn’t possibly!”
“Robert, I wouldn’t ask you to stay only to make you sleep on the floor!” Jojo said incredulously. “And besides, it’s selfish of me, but if I had a nightmare, I’d feel better with you by my side.”
Any sense of propriety inside him melted away. He just couldn’t bear the thought of Jojo suffering any more hardship. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of the man’s naïveté. He was strictly here to help. Surely there was nothing wrong with that, right?
Thankfully, Jojo had been able to change into his night clothes on his own , while Speedwagon turned down the covers on the bed. He’d never have done anything untoward, but he doubted he could have separated his selfish thoughts from a task that brought him that close to the gentleman.
When Jojo returned from washing up, Speedwagon helped him get into bed, leaning his cane up nearby in case he needed it during the night. After turning off the lights, he crawled in on his side of the bed and rolled over to see Jojo staring at him in the dark.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m frightened, Speedwagon. Ever since the mansion, I’m scared of what might happen... If I have a nightmare, would it be alright if I held onto you?”
Speedwagon’s heart rose into his throat. “W-Well, of course, Mr. Joestar.” He couldn’t very well refuse the man comfort when he was so afraid.
“Oh, but my arm would make that difficult...” Jojo muttered, and let his good arm lie across the mattress, reaching over toward Speedwagon. “Could you just lie close to me from the start?”
Suddenly, something about this whole situation seemed fishy. Jonathan was playing a little too perfectly into his weak spots for this to simply be his sweet naïveté—perhaps that’s why he hadn’t picked up on it sooner. Speedwagon sat up. “Jojo, I have to ask... Might there be some other motive to this than simply fear of nightmares...?”
After a moment, Jojo’s face became bashful. “...Perhaps. Oh, I’ll just be honest with you. The truth is that I’ve wanted to get closer to you for a while now. I thought you might feel the same—surely you wouldn’t have been so attentive and helpful if you didn’t! But you’re so reticent when we’re around others... I wanted to find out for sure. Please forgive the pretense.”
Covertly, Speedwagon pinched himself to check whether he’d already fallen asleep and was now inside a dream. To his great joy, he was met with a sharp sting of pain.
“Oh Jojo... there’s that innocent naïveté I love about you. You guessed it right, but of course I can’t get close when everyone else is around.” He scooted closer to Jojo. “In a private hotel like this, on the other hand, that’s another story.” He nestled down into the space Jojo had made for him, pulling the blanket up over them and gingerly wrapping his arms around the gentleman’s chest. It felt so good to finally hold him in his arms, after weeks of half-hugs and pats on the back. He hadn’t imagined this would be what was on Jojo’s mind too.
Jojo, it seemed, was full of surprises tonight. Stronger than one might think for a still-injured man, he curled his good arm around Speedwagon, pressing him even closer against him. “I wasn’t lying, you know. It’s true what I said about the nightmares,” he said once Speedwagon could no longer see his face. “You’re always looking out for me, even when I’m being silly and weak like this.”
“Nothin’ silly about it, Jojo. I like bein’ here to help.” If anything, Jojo had caught on to that fact a little too well. What a wonderful twist of fate that what Jojo wanted was exactly what Speedwagon wished to provide! He’d always felt protective of Jojo and how could he protect him better than this?
“I knew I’d feel better if I had you here.” Jojo nuzzled his face into Speedwagon’s hair, breath warm and steady against his neck.
Speedwagon doubted he’d be falling asleep anytime soon, but it was no matter. All the better if he could watch over Jojo; not to mention that he wanted to bask in this feeling a little longer, if he could.
“Sleep easy, Mr. Joestar. You’re safe now. ” he said softly. “I’ll be right here if there’s anythin’ you need.”