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Hit and Run

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    Jonathan Joestar: son of the CEO for Joestar Industries. His day started off as you would expect from the son of a CEO--waking up early in the morning to jog the block. He then proceeded to get dressed and ready for the office, following that, a cup of coffee from Starbucks. One thing he did not expect from his relatively repetetive morning was to be dragged into a black van at gunpoint and get hit on by a snarky blond. 

    And that's where the story begins; the eldest son of the Joestar family, kidnapped.

      The second eldest would be Joseph Joestar: a genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. He spends his money wisely--if you would consider a Lamborghini a wise investment. His father is very proud of him as he is the only one in the family who actually finished school; he also has a piloting license, but that's only to pilot the private jet his father bought for him.
       Yes, George is a very responsible father.

      Joseph has dated many women, or at least he likes to say he has (whether it's true or not we will never know). His father set him up for most of them. Now, the last time he saw his older brother was in the morning for breakfast. Joseph rarely shows up to those, which brings us another odd difference in the day. Jonathan should've realized the moment his brother sat down for breakfast that this day would be different than his day to day routine, 'cause not only did Joseph come to breakfast; he also got into a heated argument with their sick and elderly father about the company, causing Joseph to storm out in anger. Ah, how he loves this family.

      Jotaro had been walking to school with his best friend, Noriaki Kakyoin, when he got a text from his eldest brother about dinner plans. This was typical for Jonathan, but what was not typical was the lack of response. It wasn't even read.
Jotaro should've been worried, but he paid no mind to it, just desperate to get out of the sweltering heat and into air conditioning.
Another thing Jonathan never missed was dinner; the Joestar loved food, so when that happened, he started to worry. Maybe...maybe he was staying late at the office, a thought that seemed to ease the youngest Joestar's worrying a bit.

     He was not at the office. In fact, he was quite far from the office in a very unassuming warehouse, tied down to a chair. Blood ran down from his temple, which he figured happened because he was hit by the butt of a gun hard enough to knock him out.
He had woken up to a bright light and a splitting headache. He couldn't think straight, his mind a jumbled mess. He felt the blood trail down his cheek. He wasn't crying, thank god, but he felt like shit.

     The only thing he could think of was having a delightful sandwich at his favourite restaurant.
He heard a light clicking against the floor; someone was here, and he wasn't ready to face them. A hand unexpectedly gripped at his chin and pulled his face forward. He opened his eyes out of fear alone, only to be met with the most beautiful piercing pair of amber eyes.

    “Jojo, son of George Joestar. You've caught yourself in quite the...conundrum, now haven't you? Someone wants you dead, and I'm here to fulfill that wish." A voice, smooth and deep echoed throughout the room. Jonathan's breath hitched. "You've made quite an enemy; a lot of money's on your head."
Jonathan blinked, his eyes focusing on the sharply dressed man in front of him. He was poised like a predator, staring him down like Jonathan was his prey. His suit jacket was carefully folded on a chair, the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned, exposing his smooth, porcelain skin underneath. His golden locks were carefully weaved into a neat French braid, keeping his hair out of his face.
This man was ethereal, and Jonathan was whipped.
   

       “What?" Jonathan squeaked out. The man was not impressed; he stalked towards Jonathan, hips swaying. The next thing he feels is the cold edge of a knife pressed against his jugular.
      

       “Do you think you deserve this?" he pressed the knife just a tad further into his neck, drawing the smallest bit of blood.
Jonathan immediately thought back to when he was 11 years old; the last donut in the box was a delicious midnight snack. He of course blamed his mischievous 10 year old brother Joseph.

         “Yes..." Jonathan whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to take the last donut!" He squeaked out. The man froze.
       "This isn't the time to play games, Joseph. I know all about you and your heinous crimes," he growled out.

      "W-what? I'm not, I...I'm not, er, Joseph...I, erm, I'm...Jonathan?" he stuttered out. The man stared at him with a blank look, as though he was processing what Jonathan had just said.
       "You've got to be kidding me...you're...not...you match the description perfectly! You have the star birthmark! It...also does look very much like a star..." the last part was mumbled.
       "Erm, we all?? Have?? That?? My apologies uh..."
   

   "D-Dio."
 

"My apologies, erm, Dio, you have the wrong Joestar..."

     “I c-can't believe it...the wrong...oh, I'm fucked." Dio paced around the room repeating the same word, "Fuck".
       "So uh, Dio, could please um... un-tie me?" Dio silently untied him with the same shocked look as before. Jonathan rubbed at his irritated wrist standing up at his full height, looking down at Dio.
      "So... what did my brother do this time?" Jonathan asked meekly. Dio sighed and turned away from him pulling his jacket off the chair.

     "To be honest, I don't know. I was only sent to kill him, wasn't given his life story." He sighed once more glaring daggers at Jonathan. Jonathan squirmed under his intense gaze, a suffocating tension filling the air accompanied by an awkward silence.

     'Shit, he's hot,' was a thought that trailed through both of their minds, precisely one second apart.
       

    "I'd...best be going now," Jonathan started walking towards the door, only to be stopped by a pale hand at his chest.

   "No, you're not going anywhere. You may be the wrong Joestar but you'll lead me to the right one. No...you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not, Jojo~" Dio purred, Jonathan gulped.  Dio pushed him back against the chair; the Joestar fell back and sat. Dio loomed over him and leaned down to whisper in his ear, only to be interrupted by a gunshot.
 

    "Shit they're here," Dio muttered and turned away from Jonathan grabbing a gun from his holster.

   "Who's here?!" Jonathan panicked, leaping from the seat.

   "The people who hired me to kill your brother, dimwit. He should be dead by now. I've failed my mission." Dio snarled at Jonathan. He grabbed his shirt and pulled him up to face him. "If you hadn't been there I would've been home by now."

"But-"

 "Shut it," Dio cut him off and shoved him away, cocking his gun and gesturing for Jonathan to get against the wall. "We're getting out of here, and if you slow me down, I swear I will not hesitate to leave you behind."

   "I don't think you need to worry about that; I could run laps around you." Dio glared ferociously at him and pushed the door open.

    "You better live up to those words..."
Shots rang out across the warehouse, and the next thing Jonathan knew, he was running through the ports of New York with a very attractive, blond hit man following after him.

Chapter Text

     Jonathan leaned over the balcony of a cheap motel; he and Dio decided that this would be their resting place for the night. Smoke wafted from the cigarette burning in his hand, and he heard quiet footsteps approach from behind.

     “Didn’t see you as the smoking type.” 

     A soft voice whispered from behind. Jonathan turned to face Dio, who he could neither exactly call his companion nor his acquaintance. 

     He took in the sight in front of him; Dio had been up all night, but Jonathan couldn’t tell from how he composed himself. Dio was still very much alert and focused, eyes sharp and hair resting across his shoulders, still damp from a bath. 

     He took another slow drag of the cigarette before responding.

     “Just bad habit I caught from high school--and, well, everyone else in my family. Couldn’t get rid of it.” 

     Dio shifted, leaning on the balcony beside him, his golden hair freed from its intricate plaits. It glistened in the moonlight, tousled by the soft breeze. He hummed in acknowledgement, staring out into the clearing ahead. The faint rumble of cars and crickets chirping were all that the two could hear on the warm, summer night. It was pleasant--Jonathan would even say beautiful , if it weren’t for their whole... situation . Jonathan snuffs out his cigarette in the ash tray and wanders back inside, leaving Dio alone to scheme.

~~~                                                                  

     Joseph woke with a start, his eyes blinking open.

      Where am I? Last I checked, I was with some friends going for drinks…

     He heard a ping from his phone. Groaning, he checked the message--Jotaro, apparently.

     Oceanman: Where are you??

     Oceanman: Jonathan didn’t come home last night

     Oceanman: Joseph where the f u c k are you.

     “Shit” he muttered. 

     Joseph sat up and surveyed his surroundings. Looks like he was on the floor of a house he doesn’t exactly recognize. A few people were knocked out on the floor, and the stench of alcohol and vomit mixing were very prominent. He wasn’t in college anymore: Jonathan would be disappointed. Speaking of Jonathan...why the hell did he not go home? Jotaro never texted him--this has gotta be serious. He clicked on his contact and called. A gruff voice sounded from the other end.

     “Where the fuck are you.”

     “Wow, is that any way to greet your favourite brother?”

     “Jonathan’s my favourite, he’s not as stupid as you.”

     “Wow rude. Anyways, what do you mean Jonathan didn’t come home? Think that maybe he finally got laid and you’re just overreacting?”

     “…”

     “Jotaro..you still there?”

     “Nah, something’s wrong. He didn’t respond to any of my texts.”

     “Well maybe he was having that great of a time.”

     “No Joseph, what the hell??”

     “He got around quite a bit at your age--always used protection though.”

     “Even then he had a respect for women.”

     “…Who said it was just women.”

     “Joseph. What the fuck.” He heard a light, suppressed chuckle from behind Jotaro.

     “Anyways just text him. He probably just...went out for once. Dude probably needed a break.”

     “He hasn’t responded since yesterday morning.”

     “ Well you shoulda told me that earlier--what the hell, Jotaro!! ” 

     Joseph started to worry; this was not like Jonathan. If he ignored a text from family--or any in general--he always felt too guilty to not respond. He only got his act together when he realized that he would, in fact, inherit the company and once Jotaro started questioning why his big brothers were out all the time, never paying him mind. 

     They weren’t really the greatest role models, he and Jonathan, but they got the job done.

“Hey. Don’t worry, Toto. Big bro’s got this. I’ll find Jojo.” Joseph hung up at that and sighed. 

      This was going to be a long day.

~~~

     Jonathan shifted in the passenger seat of a black BMW; Dio insisted that they take this one since it was less conspicuous. He mindlessly tapped his foot against the door, which, apparently, was starting to piss Dio off.

     “Can you stop that ,” Dio snapped at Jonathan, who jumped in surprise. He had a vice grip on the steering wheel, turning his already pale knuckles white.

     “Stop what?”

    “ Tapping .”

     “Oh, sorry, I...didn’t notice.” 

     He stilled, and Dio muttered insults under his breath. They’d been on the road since dawn. Jonathan’s stomach growled; he needed food and a pit stop to stretch his legs--he had long legs and was cramped in the small car. He squirmed in his seat.

      Dio was just about done with Jonathan.

     “ Jesus , can you sit still ,” Dio growled out and started to turn into the parking lot of the first diner he saw.

     “There. Happy??” 

     Dio once again muttered insults. He parked the car and started to get out, motioning to Jonathan to do the same. Jonathan followed out and stretched, sighing in relief.

     “Finally, I’m famished .”

     They walked into the diner together, finding a small secluded booth in the corner. They sat down and relaxed, a sort of calm exhaustion sweeping through the both of them. Even Dio could feel the sleepiness at the edges of his eyes as they waited for a waiter to serve them. 

     Once he came, Jonathan ordered a large plate with extra pancakes on the side. Dio only ordered a black coffee and a small plate of hash browns and gave Jonathan a look that he so cheerfully ignored because duh he got food!!

     “You eat like a cow. How do you expect to run like that?” 

     Dio refused to mention the fact that he is, in fact, built like a bull; he had a large, muscular figure, with height to match. He also refused to mention how beautifully the light shone in his eyes when the waiter placed the food in front of them. 

      Damn him and his gorgeous blue eyes.

     “So, Mr. Hitman, what’s the plan?” Jonathan said in between bites. Dio grimaced. 

     “Call me that again and see what happens.”

     “Sorry. What’s the plan, Dio .” Dio sighed, shaking his head. That was fine, he supposed.

     “We get as far away from the city as possible. The Pillar Men won’t stop until we’re dead, but maybe we can lead them away so that your family realizes what’s going on and prepare for it.”

     “Are those the men who hired you? The Pillar Men, I mean.”

     “That what they go by, I don’t know their actual names, obviously.” 

     “Hm, I suppose that makes sense.” A few minutes of comfortable silence passed. They both seemed content eating in silence and people-watching, for a bit at least. 

     “Why do you kill people?”  

     Dio nearly couldn’t hear the question, Jonathan’s voice just above a whisper.

     Dio looked taken aback; he wasn’t expecting to be asked something like that at 11 in the morning.

      “Pays good.”

      “That’s no valid reason. You could’ve easily become a lawyer.”

      A tension filled the air, and Dio decided he didn’t need to keep talking about himself like this. Who was Jonathan to ask anyway? Not like he owed him his entire life story. 

     They both ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

     When they paid and started walking back to the car, Dio noticed a suspicious black van parked in the spot a few spaces away from them. He stilled.

     “Shit,” He muttered, and Jonathan traced his eyes back to the van to see what had Dio nervous. He cursed as well and cast his head down.

     “But how did they find us?” Jonathan was panicking, and his voice wavered as he slowly inched toward the car.

     “Act natural, as if you haven’t noticed them. Get in the car now,” Dio demanded, and Jonathan happily obliged. Dio started the engine and slowly pulled out. 

     The van followed right behind.

     “Damn it we should have been more careful. Do you still have your phone?” Dio sped up once he got to the highway, hoping to get enough speed to lose them. He was, clearly, unsuccessful, because the van simply sped up along with them.

     “Yes why?” Jonathan’s face flashed in terror. “I haven’t used it, I swear!” Dio reached into Jonathan’s pocket, pulling out his phone. Jonathan did nothing to stop him--why would he? What would he do? Wrestle a hitman for his phone? Nah.

     “What are you doing?” Jonathan asked, just before Dio threw his phone out the window.

     “ WHAT THE- DIO WHY, ” Jonathan shouted, reaching out to his phone that was now shattered on the ground behind them.

     “GET OFF ME YOU DOLT!

     Dio was fuming; he shoved Jonathan off him and continued driving. Jonathan pouted in the passenger seat, arms crossed as if he was a toddler. Dio scoffed.

     “Good God Jonathan--they’re tracking your phone ! That’s how they found us. They probably found out I got you instead of Joseph.” 

     Jonathan sighed and relaxed in the chair; he just wanted to go home ! Go play with Danny, and talk to his mom who is probably worried sick about him. He wondered what Joseph has gotten himself into. 

     Dio looked at Jonathan, worry seeping through his façade; Jonathan looked pitiful. With a sigh he rolled down the window. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a zip lighter from the side pocket of the car. He offered Jonathan one,and Jonathan took one, giving Dio a look of gratitude. 

    “We’ll be fine ,” Dio also handed Jonathan a gun, which Jonathan took with a bit more reluctance.

     “Just in case--you know how to use one, right?” Jonathan nodded.

     It was silent for a long, long time; both of them had long since discarded the cigarettes. It was night, and the roads were empty. The headlights were the only thing lighting their path, too far out from the city for lamps. All Dio could hear was the light snores coming from Jonathan in the seat next to him and the rumble of the road under the wheels.

     Dio didn’t know what to do--not that he’d ever say that out loud , but he was...lost. Everything was going to plan, he was rising in the ranks of the company, they’d finally given him a big job, and he fucked it up. He should’ve known not to get too cocky, he should’ve been more careful . He kept a firm hand on the wheel and turned his sight to Jonathan, watching his chest slowly rise and fall at a soft, calming rhythm. 

      He was quite handsome (again, a thing Dio could never say to his face), and the moonlight bounced off his dark hair. Like this, Dio noticed the natural, lighter brown highlights in his hair, and that his hair framed his face almost perfectly. His long eyelashes shadowed his face, and his plump lips were slightly ajar as soft breathes escaped them. 

      He was better like this, quiet, though he did miss his cheerful banter. Even in a situation such as this, Jonathan smiled--he was so optimistic . He saw the good in everyone. He was too naïve, too gullible. Dio couldn’t stand him. How could he even forgive someone like Dio? He tried to kill him...and yet he was still willing to follow him without doubt ? Then again, he could be lying; he could actually be Joseph, just waiting for the moment to strike.

     But, for some reason, he trusts him. 

 

 

 

Chapter Text

SO!!! I’m moving houses soon and I’ve been packing a whole bunch! Updates are gonna be even slower than normal plus my editor whose also my best friend takes time to edit and make sure it’s readable (thanks bro). and school!!! Dear lord school has been so stressful lately lmao. They said they cut down our homework but surprise surprise they didn’t. Anyways just wanted to let y’all know. I’m already a slow updater so I know this kinda sucks. Thanks for dealing with me. I can’t wait to show you how the story goes on!

Chapter Text

Jonathan didn’t quite know what he doing. He was kidnapped and yet he’s still running around with his kidnapper. It was a huge mess and, well, he hadn’t had this much fun since he was a teenager. He feels young again: running away from people, staying up all night, and meeting new people. Or, in this case, a new person--someone so intriguing and dangerous; he couldn’t help but admire him.
Dio was someone you would be wary of, someone who would scare your mothers and disappoint your fathers. He was...quite the villain.
Yet Jonathan felt at peace with him.
He felt oddly safe, protected, warm. There was something about Dio Brando, something about that beautiful, dreadful man that made everyone stop in their tracks the minute they laid eyes on him. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder if his skin was as soft as it looked. But what an odd thought...Jonathan hasn’t felt this way in years--not since his darling Erina.

Joseph smoothed down his suit as he exited the car. The driver drove off as soon as Joseph gave him the money, leaving Joseph on the steps of an elaborate ballroom. He was invited to one of those charity balls he really didn’t care for; he only showed up for reputation’s sake, honestly. His sleek midnight blue suit accentuated his tall and built stature, at least that's what the tailor said. Might've been bullshitting him. Might've not been. Who knows?
He started up the stairs and strode headfirst into the ballroom. First order of business was to find a drink, preferably alcohol. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bright head of blond hair. His eyes immediately were glued to him. He really had a thing for blondes. And then he saw the face that hair belonged to, and damn if Joseph didn't collapse then and there.
The blond was a tall, handsome 20 something year-old man. He had a patterned headband with small white feathers on the side and wore a clean, stylish, white suit jacket with a black waistcoat and black undershirt. He was talking to a young woman who was very clearly entranced by him.
Joseph needed to know him.
Joseph stalked his way towards the young man with a drink in hand: he was getting his flirt game on. 'Hey, I might even get laid if I play my cards right'. The guy turned his head just in time for Joseph to reach him. He smiled and excused himself from the young woman, air all grace and sweet composure.
“So what brings you here, Mr. Joestar~” he had a distinct lilt to his voice, and it certainly reminded Joseph of an Italian.
“Oh just doing the rounds. How’d you know I'm a Joestar?”
“Everyone knows the Joestar family.” He scoffed and brushed a loose hair out of his face. Joseph was simply enthralled by the movement.
“The names Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he shot Joseph a quick wink. Joseph remembered his aim for the night and adorned a playful smirk.
“Joseph Joestar--though, I assume you already know that.”
“Indeed I do, you’re quite...popular in my circle. Everyone knows you to be very handsome and an excellent lover...” Caesar chuckled at his own remark. Joseph licked his lips, a light tint of red spread across his cheeks. The grin never left his face.
“I can prove those statements correct, too” he whispered into Caesar's ear, hot breath tinged with alcohol. He heard Caesar's breath catch.
“Oh? Well how about we go somewhere more...private.” Caesar voice dropped as he whispered the last part into Joseph’s ear.
Joseph shivered and grabbed Caesar's wrist, dragging him out of the crowded hotel ballroom and into the hallway.
“I have a room in the floor above. Come on, let’s go."
Caesar pulled him into the elevator. Joseph couldn’t control himself--he shoved Caesar against the wall of the elevator and eagerly pressed his lips against his. His hands wandered Caesar’s body, brushing under his suit jacket and starting to fumble with the buttons on his waist coat. Caesar accepted almost immediately, moaning into his mouth as response. Joseph's head swam at the breathy sound, and a groan slipped out as he pulled him even closer and slipped his tongue in to deepen the kiss. The elevator door dinged, and another young couple stepped in, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Joseph pulled away in mortification, but Caesar dragged him out into the hallway, dashing towards the room. The couple in the elevator grimaced and scoffed, closing the elevator doors.

Everything was going according to plan. Joseph Joestar was entranced, and Caesar was getting plenty of enjoyment out of him. He just needed to make sure Joseph wouldn’t notice the gun tucked underneath the pillow of his hotel room. He frantically pulled out the keycard and opened the door to the room, only to be shoved against the wall by Joseph once again. Lips covering his before the air could fully leave his lungs.
‘Damn he’s rough,’ Caesar thought--though soon enough, he was sure he wouldn’t be thinking about anything at all. Caesar felt Joseph’s hands tug at his tie, loosening it and throwing it to some unknown corner. Next was his suit jacket, then his waist coat, and finally his shirt. Joseph started trailing kisses down his neck, suckling at his skin making sure to leave marks as he smoothed his hands across Caesar's bare torso. Caesar let out a breathy chuckle and told him to "be patient, there’s a bed for a reason".
Though he was positive if he wasn’t stopped he’d let him fuck him right there on the wall. 'Not a bad thought, actually, but I have other plans...'
Joseph grabbed his wrist again and pulled him towards the bed. 'Perfect', Caesar thought, shoving Joseph down on the bed and straddling his legs.
“You’re still fully clothed. That won’t do,” he whispered breathily into Joseph’s ear, fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt. Joseph inhaled sharply, feeling overwhelmed and overjoyed and incredibly turned on all at the same time.
It was Joseph’s turn to be marked. Caesar left bruising bites and hickeys down his entire chest running his hands over the firm muscles, listening intently to Joseph's groans and moans. He leaned and nipped at his ear pulling his hand under the pillow, slowly pulling out a pistol. He whipped up, pinning Joseph's arms above his head with one hand, and cocked the gun and pressed it against Joseph’s forehead with the other.
Joseph stopped in his tracks, his breath hitched and his eyes grew wide.
“Sorry to cut the fun short, tesoro” he smirked and put a hand against Joseph’s throat choking him just enough so no one could hear him scream. Caesar couldn’t look him in the eye. Not this time. But something stopped him from pulling the trigger: a look in Joseph’s eyes.
He wasn’t scared; he just looked...sad.
This moment of hesitation gave Joseph the opportunity to turn the tables on Caesar. He used his strength to flip Caesar over and pin him down, gun flying out of his hand.
“What the hell?! We were having a great time man," Joseph growled out, growing angrier at the second. Caesar scowled at him and struggled.
“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere asshole. Tell me who sent you and why.”
“I was hired by a group to finish off the job that someone else failed.”
“W...what? Who?!”
“Can’t tell you~” Caesar said in a sing-songy voice. Joseph grumbled and pushed him down against the bed even harder.
“You know this would totally turn me on if I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Caesar grinned at his own remark.
Joseph went red.
“Shut up! Do you know anything about my brother!? Are the people who hired you the ones who kidnapped him!?" Caesar didn't look like he cared, but for some reason he answered him.
“The first person sent to kill you got the wrong Joestar. I’m here to correct that error. And from what I know of the mission, he ran off with your brother as his hostage." Caesar sighed and wiggled a bit.
“Can you let me go now? I swear on God's name I won’t try to kill you anymore,” Joseph was skeptical, but nonetheless, he released his arms. Caesar sighed a breath of relief and pushed Joseph off him.
Retrieving his shirt from an abandoned corner, Caesar started to button it back up, also grabbing his suit jacket. Joseph just stared; a minute ago, he was having the time of his life, and now he just almost lost said life. He really wasn’t expecting to have a gun pointed at him at the start of the night. Joseph sighed and slipped his shirt back on. A fun night was just getting started and now with it ruined and his arousal fully dissipated, he had nothing else to do.
“Help me find my brother.”
“Excuse me? I literally was sent here to finish the job!? Which I failed by the way, and I can’t kill you now since...you know.”
“Yeah! since you tried to kill me, do me a favour and help me out here!” Joseph pleaded.
Caesar looked at him as if he was staring at a one legged zebra clown. He absolutely thought Joseph was an imbecile. But Caesar decided, against his better judgement, that a little fun with the hot brunette wouldn’t do any more harm that it already had.
“Fine, but you better pay up. If I help you, I’ll have a bounty on my head, and I’d rather not die any time soon." Caesar ran a hand through his hair trying to comb it back to being presentable.
Joseph was finally catching a lead on his brother.
‘Don’t worry Jotaro, big bro’s got this’

4 years ago...

Caesar walked into the training room at the same time as usual. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, yet there he was. Another young man with the same type of golden blond hair was hitting the punching bag. He wore regular training clothes, a black T-shirt and some dark grey joggers. He had his long hair tied back into a high pony tail, his face glistened with sweat.
Caesar calmly walked to the bench at the foot of the mirror placing down his gym bag and water, wrapping his hands in a black fabric. He walked towards the punching dummy next to the punching bag and started warming up. The other blonde stopped what he was doing to look at him. He coughed and spoke up.
“My name is Dio Brando. Who might you be?” He reached out his hand for a shake, his noble accent filling the silent room. Caesar took it and replied, “Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?” Dio nodded and explained that he had just transferred to New York from the London department. Caesar was intrigued, and they both spent the rest of their training session sparring each other.
Over the next few weeks they had become closer, Dio was a charming and reserved person, incredibly alluring and quite charismatic. Caesar, on the other hand, was a short tempered playboy that had numerous lovers in one week. They both complimented each other quite well.
But they had a falling out, both of their personalities strong and stubborn they broke apart on one subject: whether or not they liked what they did or not. It seemed like quite an odd thing to fight about.
They both enjoyed their jobs and executed them well. But Caesar felt lost, he didn’t want to be stuck in a routine of killing. It haunted him regularly. Dio felt no problem with killing--in fact, he enjoyed it quite a bit, in a twisted, sadistic way. That’s what drove them apart; Caesar only did this job so he could survive, Dio did it for the enjoyment of killing.

 

Back to the present...

Jonathan was running--a lot faster than planned, but, well, here he was once again: running while being pursued by “The Pillar Men” or at least by people who work for them. Dio wasn’t too far behind, from what he could tell. Jonathan clutched the pistol in his hand in a vice grip and ducked behind a crate, pressing his back against it as he heaved. He was breathing heavily; he hadn’t run that hard since his rugby days in high school. Dio ran past the crate, not noticing Jonathan hiding behind it, and ducking into a different room. Jonathan panicked; he was left alone with nothing but a gun that he barely knew how to use. He peaked around the only to dodge a bullet whizzing past his face, close enough to feel the heat on his cheek. He took a deep breath and...

Bam

Jonathan leaped up from behind the crate and fired off two rounds into the unsuspecting gunman. One hit but that was enough to knock him down. He really needed to work on aim. The man let out a shout and cursed at Jonathan raising his gun. Jonathan ducked down once again the bullet grazing a crate next to him.
He needed to do something and fast. He mustered up the courage to run, and run he did. He burst from behind the crate sprinting has fast as he could to the side. He heard to gun shots fire at him and he swung behind the door just in time. He started running again through the dark storage room, weaving in and out of the aisles with only the sound of faint shouting and his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.
He had just started to calm down a bit when he heard a loud crash. One of the shelves crashed to the ground, topping over 3 others and jonathan turned to look behind.

Crack

Jonathan felt a searing pain in his shoulder, a pain that spread like wildfire in a quick instant. He gasped, the breath leaving his lungs too suddenly to scream.
He had been shot.
He stood in shock, hand gripping at his gushing shoulder. The man who shot him walked towards him, pointing the gun at him once again. Jonathan froze like a deer in headlights. Was this how he died? Frozen from fear?
All of the sudden he heard a door burst open, and the man turned just to be tackled by Dio. His hand tightened on the trigger as it was knocked off target, the bullet grazing Jonathan’s thigh.
Dio wrestled with the man on the floor as Jonathan felt himself sink to the ground, only able to watch the scene unfold. Knocking the gun out of his hand, Dio pinned a hand above his head and head butted him. The man stilled, blacking out immediately from the impact. Dio slammed his head against the floor multiple times, each one growing more intense till a pool of blood was seeping from where his head rested, skull long since shattered, the man long since dead.
Jonathan was in a lot of pain. He’d never in his life felt this much pain until now. He looked down at his hand, seeing that it was covered in blood. Dio looked at Jonathan, just now noticing the blood seeping into his clean baby blue shirt. Dio gasped and rushed to Jonathan, throwing the gunman to the floor. Realising it’s not over yet, Dio grabbed onto Jonathan’s wrist, hoisted him up, and tugged him towards the exit.
They were still being chased, and they needed to find a way out as soon as possible--before the Pillar Men realise where they’ve gone.