There were a dozen other men and horses on the track, but as far as Johnny was concerned, there was only one opponent that mattered. The two of them were alone in front, their horses so close that the leader seemed to change with each stride. But while Diego’s horse wasn’t flagging, neither was he gaining ground. I could win this, Johnny realized as the two of them ate up the space between them and the wire. He just needed one last push.
Johnny squeezed his ankles and his horse responded, and a nose’s lead turned into something more as his horse pulled ahead. They were going to do it. He could taste the victory.
"Useless," Diego muttered from behind him, audible even over the roar of the crowd.
With a crack of his whip, Diego shot forward in one last burst of speed. Johnny flung himself flat on his horse in one last desperate bid to close the distance as the finish line raced forward to meet them—
"And the winner is— it's him, it's the Emperor, Dio!" the announcer screamed, and the audience answered his enthusiasm. Johnny felt like he was doused in cold water. Diego looked over his shoulder with a smirk before trotting off to the winner's circle.
Johnny slid off his horse and just about threw the reigns at the stableboy.
He wasn’t going to stick around to watch Diego pose and preen in front of everyone, no matter how unsportsmanlike it might seem to duck out. He didn’t think he’d be able to stomach it. Instead, he stormed off to get changed in peace, and took the opportunity to throw his gear around the changing room to make himself feel better.
When he stepped out into the hallway, Diego was waiting for him, leaning against the wall like he owned the place.
"Nice try, Joestar," he said, clapping slowly and sarcastically.
"Shut up, Dio, you piece of shit," Johnny said, like he did at the end of every race. Diego pushed himself off the wall and opened the door to a supply room, offering it to Johnny. He was still in his gear, like he'd come straight off the race track, his helmet slightly askew. He smelled like sweat and horses and the flowers that they draped over him for winning. Johnny hated all of it.
Everything they did was part of the fight, even waiting to see who would cave first and initiate it, but as soon as Diego closed the door behind them Johnny slammed him up against it.
He knew it infuriated Diego. They'd done this so long that they each knew what made the other angriest, or— even better— what turned him on more. Diego had that gleam in his eye like he couldn’t believe that Johnny dared to touch him, but there was no denying the anticipation that surged through both of them. Not attraction. Not quite. It was something more physical than that.
"You couldn't wait that long to see me? No wonder you were staring at my ass the whole time."
"Yeah, I was thinking about how badly you'll cry when I kick it," Johnny shot back, one hand working to yank down Diego's jodhpurs.
Diego's leg snapped out, hooking behind Johnny's, and they tumbled down to the floor together. Johnny's back hit the floor, Diego landing hard on top of him. He grinned, smug enough that Johnny wanted to knock all his teeth out, and shoved his leg in between Johnny's thighs, grinding against him roughly.
"You're cute when you lose," he cooed, before crashing their lips together.
Johnny fought him, biting and shoving, until they were both ruffled and out of breath. Diego leaned back and wiped his mouth off with the back of his still-gloved hand. He started to say something that would undoubtedly be something insufferable, if given the chance. Johnny didn't let him have it.
He grabbed Diego by the straps of his helmet and yanked hard to the right like he was steering a wild horse. They both went sideways, and in an instant Johnny was straddling him, legs squeezing to keep him there. Diego snarled, bucking underneath him, but the jockey was nothing compared to the animals they both rode on a daily basis, and Johnny had him.
He grinned, all teeth, and shifted his weight forward to work his pants down. "Suck it, Brando."
For just that one moment, he let up on Diego, and Diego, cheap asshole that he was, took the opening, striking out and sending them both rolling on the floor. They wrestled with each other for a moment, Johnny giving it his all, but his stomach hit the dirt.
He scrambled against the ground, but before he could turn around Diego landed heavily across his back, pinning him down into the floor. They were both panting. Johnny slammed his head backwards to try to catch Diego in the nose, but Diego grabbed him by the nape of the neck and shoved down, fingers hard and bruising.
"It's useless, Johnny," he hissed, as Johnny unsuccessfully tried to regain some leverage. Diego bore down on top of him, elbow pressing down across his back so hard that Johnny's right shoulder was forced against the floor, Diego's hips digging into him hard. Diego leaned forward so Johnny could just see him out of the corner of his eye, shifting his weight expertly to keep him pinned. He bit the tip of his glove and pulled it off, sticking two fingers in Johnny's mouth. "Get going."
Johnny bit him again.
It was worth it to feel Diego wince against him, even if he'd spend the rest of the afternoon paying for it. Diego shoved him down harder in retaliation. One hard yank of his pants and they pooled around his knees, leaving him exposed for the moment before Diego's fingers shoved in, rough and merciless. Johnny gritted his teeth, huffing his breath hard out of his nose, and focused on how badly he was going to get Diego back next time.
The fingers rutted inside him a few times before Diego's impatience took over. There was the quick sound of fabric sliding down before he felt Diego's bare skin press against him, and then Diego shoved in and Johnny ducked his head to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.
There was nothing elegant about it. Diego gripped him hard by the shoulders, slamming into him rough and hard and entirely self-centered, as they both worked out the remainder of the coiled-up energy that brought them on their horses in the first place. Diego fucked him hard into the ground, and Johnny's hands and knees were going to be sore and bruised the next day, and it would just be more fuel for the fire for the next time they clashed.
Diego's hand fisted around Johnny's erection, squeezing roughly as he leaned his face in until it was even with Johnny's again. "Hey," he breathed, jerking ungracefully, "you're going to come first."
"What? Fuck you, jackass!"
"Maybe next time," Diego said indulgently, voice dripping with condescension, and then his breath ghosted across the nape of Johnny’s neck. Johnny shivered. The area around his birthmark was a little sensitive, so of course Diego discovered it and abused it as often as possible. Sure enough, Johnny felt Diego’s teeth worry the skin there, dragging out an involuntary groan. "You want to know how I know?”
"I know you’re gonna tell me anyway, you pompous—"
"You always arch up, just like this—" he dragged his hand down Johnny's spine, which was arching, the traitor, "—when you're about to come."
That fucking bastard. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold it back, but it broke over him anyway, and he came with something between a grunt of frustration and a yell.
He could feel Diego smirk against him. He finished shortly afterwards, digging in deep and holding Johnny down until it was over.
Then he shoved Johnny away from him and stood up, as if he couldn't stand being around him one second longer. The feeling was more than mutual.
"Go clean yourself up," Diego said, tossing a handkerchief at him without sparing a glance in his direction. He hiked his pants up and slipped out the door before Johnny could fully retaliate, leaving with one parting promise. "See you next time."
Johnny threw the handkerchief at his receding back.
"Heads up, Johnny!" Gyro called, glancing over his shoulder. "Dio's back on his horse."
Johnny whipped around in his seat to see, sure enough, that fucking bastard picking his way through the mountainous terrain like he owned the place.
"Get away, asshole!" he yelled.
"It's been a while, Johnny," Diego said, that smug little smile playing around his lips. "See you at the finish line."
He kicked forward, leaving the both of them, a fuming Johnny and an oblivious Gyro, in his dust.