Don't Bring Me Down
"What the hell? Why do we have to climb this thing?"
"Stop whining, Jojo," Caesar said, testing the slipperiness of the pillar with a finger. "If Master thinks we're up to the challenge, then we have to prove ourselves to that standard."
"Yeah, well, I don't think much of your Master." Joseph folded his arms and frowned at Caesar. "She may be hot, but it seems pretty damn rude to just shove your guest into a pit and force them to climb up. She could have at least fed us first!"
In reality Caesar was less confident than he tried to appear to Joseph. He'd heard the horror stories of the Hell Climb Pillar, which initiates into the art of hamon had to climb unaided by anything but the power of the ripple itself. It was made more difficult by the fact that gallons of oil were constantly sluicing down the pillar itself and recirculating back up. Caesar spared a glance for the thigh-high lake of oil he and Joseph stood in, saw nothing that would help climb the pillar, and returned his attention to the pillar itself. Yes, he thought he realized how to climb it perhaps...though it wouldn't be easy.
"Okay, then," Joseph said, measuring the distance to the pillar. "She wants me to climb that stupid pillar, that's what she'll get!" Joseph lowered, catlike, into a crouch, then sprung toward the pillar. Propelled by what he liked to think of as his mighty legs - which even Caesar had to admit were quite shockingly muscular - Joseph smacked into the pillar, about eight feet up, with a muffled grunt. He clung, his arms wrapped around it in a bear hug, and both men felt a brief surge of victory. Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard after all, if it was all this easy -
A burbling sound caught Caesar's attention, and he looked up to see that the volume of oil washing down the pillar had increased. The light sheet of viscous fluid covering the pillar was being washed away by a mini-wave of thick oil. He opened his mouth to call a warning to Jojo, but it was too late.
As the increased quantity of oil reached Joseph, his grip - none too sure in the first place - completely failed, and with a loud yell and much flailing of arms, he fell straight down, narrowly avoiding smacking his head on the pillar. Caesar tried to reach him in time to catch him - well, he didn't try TOO hard; Joseph WAS supposedly the Joestar wonder boy, after all, and if he couldn't take a short fall like that he had no chance against those ancient Aztec vampires. So Joseph's fall was cushioned by nothing but two and a half feet of oil; fortunately, that was enough.
"Smooth," Caesar remarked, not even trying to keep the sardonic edge out of his voice. "Did you really think it would be that easy? Master's here to train you in endurance, not," quirking an eyebrow at the oil-covered lump in the pool, "to act like a brain-dead monkey."
The lump scrambled to his knees, coughing, and looked up, the expression in his eyes murderous. "Shut up!" Joseph spat, and shook his head, spraying tiny beads of oil everywhere. He stood, and oil cascaded down over his muscles in a way that was, well, not unattractive. Caesar decided to ignore that feeling, however, in favor of the laughter bubbling up from deep within his chest. It wasn't hard, really; Jojo's hair was still covered in oil, and he looked like a rather beefy drowned rat. And he still had that stupid breathing mask Lisa Lisa had locked onto his face during his first encounter with her in Venice. Joseph fished out a handkerchief from his pants pocket and attempted to mop at his face, only to realize that the cloth was soaked in oil too. "Aw, man, Granny Erina made that for me! She's gonna be pissed!"
Clearly deciding to take the high road and ignore Caesar's ever-more-hysterical laughter, Joseph looked up at the pillar. "Crap...I don't think there's any way I can climb that in these clothes until they dry. It'll be too slippery."
Caesar cleared his throat, suppressing either a chuckle or a laughter-induced hiccup. "Well, Jojo, time IS of the essence. You're going to have to find some other way up. Perhaps if you hadn't been so gung-ho, your clothes might still be...unlubricated."
Caesar was unable to suppress a snicker at that, and Joseph rolled his eyes. "Bite me," he said. Then, with a graceful motion entirely unexpected from such a - well, "big galoot" was the term Speedwagon had used, clearly having picked up an Americanism or two in his time over there - Joseph stripped himself of his oil-soaked shirt. Caesar barely had time to gawk at Jojo's impressive chest before the oil-soaked shirt smacked into his face.
"Hey! Cut that out!" His protest had no effect, and an undershirt, a pair of socks, and - most alarmingly - a pair of thick pants smacked him in the face in succession. When he finally pawed the oil out of his face, he beheld Joseph standing proudly, up to his thighs in oil, apparently wearing nothing but his gloves and a smile in his eyes. Caesar couldn't quite see that clearly through the oil that remained in his own eyes, but he could still tell that Joseph had gone commando that morning and quickly looked away, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Geez, Jojo, I don't think you had to take it ALL off." Desperate for some kind of distraction, Caesar looked around for some way to hang the clothes so they could dry. He soon noticed one stone in the outer wall which stuck out slightly further than the ones around it; he took his spare headband out of his pants pocket (it was soaked in oil anyway) and busied himself tying it in a loop onto the stone and hanging the oil-soaked clothes from it.
Relatively calm now, Caesar turned only to see an oil-coated mask in front of his face. He hadn't realized Joseph had come quite so close. Caesar quickly looked up into Joseph's eyes and donned his most nonchalant look. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
Joseph ignored him and plucked at Caesar's shirt, frowning. "Your shirt is wet through with oil too."
"And whose fault is that?" Caesar shot back. "If someone hadn't thrown his dirty laundry at me, that might not be a problem."
Jojo's eyes gleamed wolfishly. "Well, I guess I just wasn't thinking. Still, it'd probably be better to take it off and hang it. We've got three days in here, after all; it's not like there won't be time for them to dry."
With a resigned eye roll, Caesar unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, hanging it neatly with the other clothes. Unlike Joseph, he opted to keep his pants on.
Sighing, Joseph leaned against the outside wall and attempted to put his hands in his pockets before he realized he didn't have any. "Damn Lisa Lisa...she's probably sitting up there laughing at us. 'Look at those two morons, they can't even accomplish this simple task!' Grrr! Or maybe she's not even watching; I bet she has so little faith in us that she's in the house eating dinner, or reading a book, or maybe taking a bath..." Over the course of his musings Jojo's expression had changed from a mutinous glare to a far-off, dreamy look. "Maybe with that pretty maid..."
Caesar smacked Joseph in the side of the head with a meaty hand. "God, Jojo, don't you have any respect for her? She's not some two-bit doxy, she's our Master! And I'm certain she and Suzi aren't...you know!" Though as Caesar thought about it, the idea did make certain of Lisa Lisa's odd behaviors make a little more sense... Shaking his head, he put the thought out of his mind. "And anyway, since she's your Master you shouldn't be thinking about her in that way!"
Joseph, frowning, poked a finger into Caesar's chest. "Well, okay then, hotshot...who AM I supposed to fantasize about? I'm a young man in the prime of life, I can't just not think about sex! For that matter, I'm not sure I can even do without sex for a whole month! Maybe Suzi will -"
"No, no, no!" Caesar interrupted. "First off, you kiss your grandmother with that mouth? Second, Suzi's a nice young girl. Innocent." (He resolutely refused to think about what she might be doing with Lisa Lisa at this moment.) "And more important, even I haven't been able to score with her, so I doubt you," giving a scornful, lingering look up and down Jojo's oil-covered body, "have the slightest chance in hell with her."
"Oho, so you're afraid I'll succeed where you failed? Show up your lothario gig for the pathetic act it really is?"
"Pshh, you wish. I just want to spare you the pain of disappointment. Why don't you try someone you actually have a chance with?"
Joseph quirked an eyebrow. "Well, given that the only people on this island are Lisa Lisa, Suzi, and you...is that a come-on?"
For the first time since Joseph had met him, Caesar seemed at a loss for words. He was spluttering a lot, though. Jojo debated whether to let him continue to act like a landed fish, but in the end he decided to take mercy on him. He'd noticed Caesar's studiedly casual gazes, and Caesar's oil-soaked pants, though thick, were clinging enough that he could tell the other man was not uninterested.
Joseph moved in closer as Caesar spluttered that it certainly was NOT a come-on, that Jojo would just have to do without for a month, which certainly was not unreasonable given that he was supposed to be training to save his life, and...
Caesar found his mouth stopped by Joseph's hand. Jojo wrapped his other arm around Caesar, bringing their bodies closer together. Caesar realized with mild surprise that it had been a while for him, too, and that like Jojo he was unaccustomed to going without...intimacy for this long. He'd meant to pick up a girl or two when they were on the mainland meeting with Lisa Lisa, but Jojo's constant bitching about his mask had thrown a wrench into those plans. And he also had to admit it felt good to be having this kind of contact with someone, even if it was the more-annoying-than-not Jojo. Caesar leaned in and deepened the embrace, reflecting that they both could probably use a little stress relief. Almost out of reflex he attempted a kiss, only to be balked by that stupid mask. He found himself cursing it, as before Lisa Lisa had put the mask on Joseph his lips had looked quite...lush was perhaps not the right word, too feminine, but kissable certainly was.
After a long moment, Joseph pulled away slowly. "You smell like oil," he said with a smirky expression. "Still, that was nice." Reaching out and caressing Caesar's bicep surprisingly gently, he added, "Are you still going to play the outraged miss, or are you going to do what we both know you want to do?"
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Caesar stepped away and turned (not that he was particularly modest, but he wasn't as exhibitionist as Jojo seemed to be) and unbuttoned his pants. As he slipped out of them, he realized with surprise that his resignation was leavened with a fair amount of eagerness. Huh, who'd have thought that I'd ever be doing this with Jojo, let alone actually looking forward to it? he thought, as he turned and hung his pants and underwear with the rest of their clothes.
Then he laughed. "Well, I suppose that way both of our pants will have a chance to dry."
Joseph gave an answering chuckle, then moved in for another embrace. This one was even more enjoyable than the last, and Caesar found his arms twining around Jojo's muscular torso. Joseph, meanwhile, had his hands considerably lower, something Caesar was not at all opposed to.
When the two men pulled apart, Joseph looked at Caesar suspiciously. "No freaky shit with hamon bubbles, though, okay?" Jojo ordered. "No bubbles of oil or...or anything else."
"Oh come on, they could be fun," Caesar said. "It'd be like a hot springs." With a wicked grin, he dipped his finger in the oil, and it suddenly warmed and started bubbling.
Joseph did have to admit it felt good, but nevertheless he grabbed Caesar's arm and lifted it out of the oil pool. Narrowing his eyes at Caesar, he intoned, "No. No bubbles. Of ANYTHING."
With a theatrical huff, Caesar folded his arms. "Fine. Then no 'Jojo Crackers' either, you freak."
"What...I wasn't even...how would you even use those in sex?" Joseph spluttered. "I mean, I'm sure I could find a way - I'm brilliant, after all - but still...!" He trailed off when he felt Caesar's callused hands on his hips; with a brief effort and tensing of muscle, Joseph found himself leaning with his back against the pillar, oil flowing down the back of his head to his shoulder blades and further.
Caesar gracefully dropped to his knees, his chin barely clearing the oil and his face level with Joseph's crotch. Joseph leaned his head against the pillar, and when he felt the warm wetness of Caesar's mouth envelop him he closed his eyes and let out an involuntary groan. The older man had clearly done this before, and was VERY good at it. Joseph held out as long as he could, but sooner than he'd have liked he found himself tensing as he rode a wave of pleasure, his knees almost buckling. "OH! MY! GOD! Ah..."
As Joseph came back to himself, panting heavily, Caesar rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I believe it's time for you to return the favor, Jojo," he said with an evil smirk on his face.
"Okay, but...wait, I've got this mask on," Joseph protested. "I guess I can give you a rain check for after I get this stupid mask off, but..."
"No. No rainchecks. I have another idea, a way you can reciprocate sooner than that," Caesar said, still grinning that slightly sinister grin.
Joseph realized almost immediately what Caesar was implying - he may have been many things, but slow was not one of them. "Now wait a minute," he said, waving his hands in denial, "I didn't think we were going to go that far -"
"What's the matter, Jojo?" Caesar said, leaning in with that toothy, lupine smile. "You're not afraid to take it like a man, are you?"
"No!" Joseph protested. "No, it's just...I've never...er, doesn't it hurt?"
"Only when not sufficiently lubricated," Caesar explained. With a gesture to the giant pool of oil, he added, "That clearly won't be a problem for us."
Once again Caesar placed his hands on Joseph's hips, but this time he hitched the younger man up against the pillar, his legs up around Caesar's waist. His stomach still full of misgivings, Joseph tried not to squirm too much as Caesar, holding Joseph up with one hand, dipped his other hand into the oil and applied it to Joseph's rear entrance with a finger. The finger didn't feel awful, though - in fact, kind of the opposite - so Joseph started to relax a bit...that is, until he saw Caesar slicking himself with the same hand. Uh-oh...
Caesar entered slowly and gently, in what was clearly a great effort of will for him judging by the almost pained expression on his face. Still, Joseph appreciated the care he seemed to be taking, and the pain was minimal, almost nonexistent. Mostly there was just a feeling of...fullness, of being touched in places deep inside which weren't used to being touched.
Caesar began to pull out slowly, which felt slightly uncomfortable at first, but soon faded as the Italian man slid into a slow, steady rhythm. Joseph found himself tightening his legs around the older man's waist, trying to pull him in deeper - something in which Caesar seemed only too happy to oblige him.
As Caesar thrust into him, Joseph panted, "You...planned this 'reciprocity'...from the moment I talked you into this...didn't you?" Not getting an answer, the younger man continued, "I thought so. ...Still, I think you'll find...that you're not the only one...who has a few surprises..."
In his private experimentation with hamon, Joseph had discovered it could be manifested through any part of his body. It was stronger when focused from one point, such as a finger, but it certainly wasn't limited to that. His smile that of a particularly pleased-with-himself fox, Joseph sent a brief pulse of hamon into Caesar through the point where their bodies connected most intimately.
Caesar groaned, and slowed. "Jojo...ah...don't...you'll make me..."
Jojo grinned wolfishly beneath the mask, his face covered in a light sheen of oil and sweat. Turn about was fair play, after all. He sent another pulse into Caesar, and could feel the older man nearing the point of no return.
Time for the big finale. Jojo wrapped his arms around Caesar's neck as tightly as he could. "And now...you're gonna say: 'I'm coming'!" With that, he clenched himself as tight as he could while simultaneously sending a last wave of hamon into Caesar.
The older man was no match for this stimulation, and snarled, "...dammit, Jojo - ah! I'm coming!" Joseph could feel Caesar spilling his seed deep inside him, and didn't find the experience entirely unpleasant. However, when Caesar's knees buckled in pleasure, he took Joseph (whose legs were still wrapped around his waist) down with him; the two fell in a tangle of limbs and yelps into the lake of oil they were standing in.
Joseph was the first to rise to his knees, dripping - AGAIN - with oil. "God, Caesar, warn a guy when you're going to drop him like that! As if I didn't get enough oil on me before..." Joseph stood and attempted to brush himself dry - well, drier - while Caesar surfaced, looking abashed. His headband - the only article of clothing he still wore - was coated in oil and drooping sadly.
"Hey, don't blame it on me. You're the one who decided to go all extra-credit on us, I can't help my body's reaction. Maybe next time you'll think before you pull a stunt like that."
Joseph leaned down towards him, and Caesar braced for an attempted blow. Instead, though, Joseph just raised a finger and said, his brows set in a cocky expression, "It was good, wasn't it?"
"...Yeah, it was." With a grimace, he took Joseph's extended hand and heaved himself to his feet. "Looks like it'll be a while before we want to put our clothes back on, though."
Joseph nodded, then draped his arm around Caesar's shoulder. He looked up at the pillar, and Caesar followed his gaze. "So...that was nice, Caesar, don't get me wrong, but what do we do now?"
At the top of the pillar, Lisa Lisa frowned, looking down at her proteges. Well, I suppose the increased camaraderie can't hurt, but this is NOT exactly the type of training I had in mind. With a sigh, she started back to the house. She had to tell Suzi to get rooms ready for the boys, whenever they happened to get out of the pit. Also, apparently, some dry pants.
A/N: This was my first time writing gay sex (or sex in general), which is much more embarrassing than I thought it'd be; writing the, er, climactic scene basically involved me asking for help on IRC and giggling self-consciously as I wrote. Just know that for every questionable practice in this fic, there were ten suggested that I had to manfully restrain myself from including. Two words: spooge bubbles. I think I deserve brownie points for my restraint.