Chapter Text
Koichi was sleeping peacefully, didn’t hear a thing. Neither did Jotaro, really, but he knew something was wrong when he heard the click of the door and opened his eyes, blinking, to see a red rose in place of the doorknob. His eyes narrowed.
The first thing he reached for was his hat, always placed on the nightstand beside him. It wasn’t there. He grumbled to himself, murmuring his favorite line, and slipped out from beneath the sheets. It was a miracle Koichi hadn’t heard anything leading up to his wakeful state.
That dream, it was… Jotaro pursed his lips. He grabbed a clean pair of boxer-briefs and changed in the bathroom before heading out.
Giorno couldn’t fall asleep right away. Every part of his plan fell into place flawlessly, as was intended—he’d even hired a doppelgänger to trick Jotaro and his company into thinking Giorno was staying in a different room. His plan worked, of course; Mista confirmed Jotaro tailing the doppelgänger earlier that day.
Yet it was thrilling to think he was sleeping in the room next to Kujo Jotaro. After Diavolo’s defeat, Giorno beat the Speedwagon Foundation to the punch and arranged a meeting with their people. Research confirmed his suspicion that Hirose Koichi, the boy he met some months ago, was part of the foundation along with his partner and senior agent, Kujo Jotaro.
The man was devilishly handsome, stoic in every photograph Giorno found of him—both in professional portraits as well as candid moments that his team collected during the weeks before their meeting. He was excited to meet this man, whom rumor had, could stop time with his Stand. He imagined what it must look like—large and strong like him, no doubt, perhaps just as mysterious in its poker face.
These thoughts kept Giorno awake. When he did finally fall asleep, they followed him into his dreams, where he witnessed Gold Experience’s sheer smallness before a tall, muscular, pale blue-and-purple colored Stand.
Its hair was wild, black and wavy as it stood on end. Its face was decorated with sharp, linear markings, and on his forehead rested a golden crown with a turquoise gem at the center. The Stand’s shoulders were protected beneath golden pads, and its bulk-sculpted body almost distracted Gold Experience’s eyes from the squiggly marks that ran down its torso and legs.
Gold Experience looked back up at this massive Stand, who was staring curiously at him. Its large hand cautiously touched Gold Experience’s arm—Giorno, in his sleep, shuddered at the contact. Without knowing how it happened, their fingers were suddenly intertwined—the larger Stand pulled Gold Experience flush against its chest and kissed its face affectionately.
Gold Experience melted into the Stand’s embrace; its smaller arms wrapped around a thick midsection, gloved hands feeling the grooves of muscles on the other Stand’s back. Their lips finally met in a soft kiss, testing the waters, and Giorno felt all of it. The other Stand’s mouth, its lips; thin, a little dry, but experienced and gentle. He sighed in his sleep.
His skin felt every point of contact, too, as rough gloved hands ran down his sides. The Stand put a little pressure where it grabbed Gold Experience, pulling together their pelvises. Giorno whined, his flaccid length hit with a sudden jolt of pleasure. The flame igniting in his chest spread deeper into the pit of his smooth, flat belly.
As the Stand ran its hands along Gold Experience’s sides, Giorno’s own Stand moved its hands over a broad chest. Thick, firm pecs with hardened nipples protruded into his palms. Giorno could feel that, too, and the muscles of the other Stand’s biceps and tris via Gold Experience’s touch exploration.
But the other Stand ventured a gamble, dropping its hands lower to cup Gold Experience’s bottom.
At this, Giorno awoke. He panted heavily, sweat trickling down the side of his face. His hair was damp and he was immediately aware of his hard-on that he definitely needed to do something about. It was useless trying to get off with nothing to work with, or touch, or smell, however…
It was a risk, but Giorno took it and found himself in front of Jotaro and Koichi’s hotel room. Just two steps from his own. With a single touch, the doorknob turned into a rose, and Giorno was able to silently creep inside. Neither of the sleeping men detected his entrance.
He glided toward Jotaro’s bed and eyed the gorgeous man from head-to-waist. Unfortunately, his legs were covered by a pesky comforter, but Giorno would forever be thankful for the eyeful of Jotaro’s bare chest. It heaved in a calm rhythm, such as the expression of that Stand from his dream. Giorno suddenly remembered what he came in here for.
Giorno had intended to steal an article of Jotaro’s clothing—be it the black turtleneck that hung over the desk chair, or his pants which were neatly folded at the end of the bed. But a strangely shaped, trinket-adorned hat on the nightstand caught his eye; his gaze quickly returned to Jotaro’s face, yet unexamined closely by Giorno. He smiled; none of the photos he’d collected of Jotaro witnessed the man without his hat.
He took it without thinking, and memorized the little curl of Jotaro’s hair that hung in front of his forehead, and the thick wavy tufts that sat upon his head; he memorized the finely-shaped, thick eyebrows and voluptuous eyelashes, too. Jotaro’s scruff was minimal, but Giorno took care to remember that feature as well.
Quickly he returned to his room, but in his haste, Giorno forgot to lock the door.
Jotaro stood in front of the room directly next to his and Koichi’s. The dream he had was too real to be coincidence, and he knew the person he followed earlier that day was not Giorno Giovanna. His hunch turned out to be correct, thanks to Koichi’s Echoes spotting another Giorno elsewhere in the hotel. With a sigh and a mumbled utterance beneath his breath, Jotaro lifted his fist to knock—and he intended to knock loudly, but a sound from within stopped him.
It was soft and melodic. A quiet moan? Perhaps a sigh. Jotaro wasn’t in the mood to merely eavesdrop, however, and grabbed the doorknob. With Star Platinum’s strength he turned it clockwise and pressed forward—but he didn’t need to use that much force. He fell forward as the door opened easily, since it was already unlocked.
And the sight before him, well—Jotaro could only stare, wide-eyed and speechless.
Giorno lay propped up against the pillows of his king-sized bed with his thighs spread wide. He wore only his nightshirt, unbuttoned; the moonlight gleamed against his milky white chest. The most shocking part was that Jotaro’s missing hat sat right in Giorno’s lap, hiding the hand that stroked his length.
Jotaro’s lips parted, but he couldn’t speak words. Confused, irritated grunts that were short and rumbled deep from in his chest were vocalized instead.
Giorno stilled, not daring to move. He caught himself in a dead stare-off with Kujo Jotaro, a man whose Stand, he observed, had just felt up his own. Without calling Gold Experience out, Giorno’s Stand appeared at his bedside.
Jotaro sighed, closing the door behind him and locking it. “I’ll give you ten seconds to return my hat,” he said, crossing his arms. Giorno didn’t seem to hear him; he only stared curiously, his eyes roaming over Jotaro’s mostly-bare body. The young man licked his lips at the thickness of Jotaro’s thighs—yes, now he could see them, unobstructed by a puffy comforter as they had been before.
“Time’s up.”
He didn’t bother reciting the name of Star Platinum’s ultimate technique. Giorno was frozen in time, because it was bothersome for Jotaro to even think of how he’d manage to retrieve his hat any other way.
But Jotaro noticed, leaning over the lewd mob boss, that the Stand beside him was familiar to the one from his dream. Part of him suspected Star Platinum to be at fault, narrowing a side-eyed glance toward his Stand. Never had Jotaro imagined Stands would attract one another in that kind of way.
He lost track of time while contemplating the thought, as time resumed before he could leave the room. Jotaro’s fingers had secured his stolen hat, which still rested on Giorno’s lap. The younger man looked into his dark eyes, smiling. It was unusual that Giorno did not appear to be confused by Jotaro’s sudden closeness.
“So you know about my Stand,” Jotaro said. “How?”
“Rumors,” Giorno said. “I met him in my dream, too. And you…?”
His eyes flickered down to Jotaro’s tight boxer-briefs. They were a clean, fresh pair, but that didn’t hide the dry-crusted speckles just above his bellybutton and in-between his abs.
“Yare yare…”
Giorno laughed, his smile curving into a playful grin. He took Jotaro’s hat back out of the man’s grasp, placing it on his head. It balanced at an odd angle thanks to his uncurling donut bangs.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kujo Jotaro,” Giorno said. His fingers found Jotaro’s cheek, stroking it softly, then down his jaw and along his neck. As Giorno mapped Jotaro’s collarbone, shivering with a quiet moan as his fingertips reached the hard muscle of his rounded shoulders, the older man surprisingly made no move to stop him.
The truth was, finding his biological great uncle wearing his favorite hat over his genitals actually turned Jotaro on. He didn’t dare admit how sexy it was when worn on Giorno’s head, either.
“I didn’t think the mob boss would be such a horny teenager,” Jotaro said, feeling up Giorno’s thighs with his rough palms. “But it looks like you need a little help.”
Giorno mewled softly under Jotaro’s touch. Tingles spread from his thighs up into his erection; Jotaro’s hands were big, his knuckles blunted as Giorno watched them work. His legs spread apart further, involuntarily.
Jotaro leaned forward to kiss him softly on the lips. Giorno leaned into it, opening his mouth right away. It felt just like the kisses Gold Experience received in its dreams from Jotaro’s Stand.
But Jotaro was much more aggressive than his Stand. His tongue entered Giorno’s small mouth, swirling around Giorno’s tongue with desperate fervor, tasting every part of his teeth and lips. Jotaro’s thumbs dipped into the bend at his thighs and hips, rubbing along the creased line. The younger man broke away, gasping, and whined softly.
“Jotaro…”
Jotaro busied his lips down Giorno’s neck; it arched to give him extra space where his wide mouth sucked hard enough to leave purple bruises. Jotaro’s sharp teeth nipped at the pale skin at the ball of Giorno’s collarbone, smoothing over it with gentle kisses.
“Ah… Oh…”
Giorno’s softened voice spurred Jotaro to continue. His fingers wrapped around Giorno’s hips, pressing down as he climbed further onto the bed. With only a brief moment of hesitation, Jotaro grinded down against Giorno’s bare crotch, eliciting a louder moan from him. Giorno tangled his hands in Jotaro’s thick hair, pulling harshly on it.
Jotaro grumbled, reaching behind Giorno to cup his ass. Giorno’s back arched; he rolled his hips to feel himself against Jotaro’s growing erection. Jotaro’s length was much bigger than Giorno’s, he could feel as much through the thin boxer-brief fabric. Giorno’s misty eyes closed as Jotaro made his body feel hotter; Giorno’s leaking member desired more touch, more skin.
Jotaro teased him, rolling his hips around in a circle, slowly, torturously. Giorno’s whines became more frequent and high-pitched; but each time he slipped a finger beneath Jotaro’s underwear, trying to slyly slip them down, the older man pulled further away. Jotaro’s hat fell from Giorno’s head as it tilted back once more, and through half-closed eyes he glared.
“T—Tease,” Giorno whispered.
“Punishment for stealing my hat,” Jotaro replied. He hoisted Giorno up, holding him chest-to-chest. Giorno sat on his thick thighs, arms wrapped around Jotaro’s shoulders for support. He didn’t move yet, though, instead reaching for his hat to place back on Giorno’s head.
“Oh? But you like this look on me, don’t you, Jotaro?”
He didn’t answer. Jotaro’s grip tightened on Giorno’s round ass, massaging the cheeks in slow circles, parting it at the middle a little further each time. Giorno’s chest fell forward and he frotted against Jotaro’s hardened abs; his whole body was aroused and he needed release.
Jotaro’s fingers pressed harder into Giorno’s delicate skin, surely leaving red marks that Giorno wished he could see. He gasped upon feeling Jotaro’s finger ghost over his tight asshole. “Are you a virgin?” he heard, a quiet whisper in his ear. Jotaro’s teeth clamped down gently on Giorno’s lobe, tugging on it.
“Ahh—nngh…”
He couldn’t answer, didn’t want to, because in his gut the answer didn’t matter—he knew his desire well. To think of having Jotaro’s dick stuffed inside of him excited Giorno further. He rolled his hips erratically, desperate, and pressed his small chest to Jotaro’s. Their nipples touched only when Giorno swayed from side-to-side, moaning as the hardened nubs caressed each other sensuously.
“Giorno.”
Giorno leaned his head back, lifting his brows. “Turn around,” Jotaro said.
His heart thumped a little faster, worry overcoming his arousal. But Giorno could play this one out with a clear head, pursing his lips as he slid down Jotaro’s thighs. He was ready to position himself on his hands and knees when he noticed Jotaro taking his previous spot, propped up against the pillows. He beckoned him to come closer, and Giorno did.
He was pulled into Jotaro’s embrace, feeling heat radiate through the man’s boxer-briefs against his back. Giorno sighed, leaning his head back as Jotaro kissed down his neck. Giorno’s smaller hands covered Jotaro’s as he groped around Giorno’s chest, gradually trailing his fingertips down Giorno’s abs. He moaned, his lips kissing Jotaro’s cheek, then his jaw. He even felt, as he arched his back, the tip of Jotaro’s leaking cock smearing its juices across his spine.
“Look at that,” Jotaro whispered, hot breath tickling Giorno’s ear. “You’re so hard that the tip of your cock is red… Do you want me to touch you, Giorno Giovanna?”
Goosebumps covered Giorno’s skin all over. He pushed his backside into Jotaro’s lap, grinding the crack of his ass against Jotaro’s length. His legs opened as wide as possible, coaxed into complete and utter submission by Jotaro’s fingers stroking his inner thighs.
Jotaro’s hat slipped a little on Giorno’s head again. He panted, reaching up and over to pull Jotaro’s hair as he answered, “Yes, yes—just touch me already.”
Jotaro chuckled, something that Giorno thought might a rare occurrence for some reason. Jotaro obliged, however, gently wrapping his fingers at the base of Giorno’s cock. He stroked him languidly, keeping busy by leaving hickeys all over Giorno’s neck.
Giorno shuddered, his body jolting forward at the sudden skin contact. He tried to focus on rubbing back against Jotaro still, but Jotaro’s hand was starting to stroke faster and Giorno couldn’t think anymore. He moaned and panted, grunting out Jotaro’s name and multiple obscenities which most mob bosses would utter—but never Giorno. No, these curses and erotic sounds mixed with the sticky, slurping mess of precum being smeared along his length were not once spoken from Giorno’s mouth until this night.
He despised how close he was already, how much he wanted Jotaro to do more to him.
“Mm—ah, Jotaro, I’m going to—“
“Go ahead, Giorno,” Jotaro said, tracing the outer shell of Giorno’s ear with his tongue. It sent Giorno into a fit of high-pitched whimpers, finally pushed over the edge by Jotaro’s thumb playing solely with the tip of his cock.
It dipped into the slit and Giorno felt the heat in his belly release in hot spurts of white. He let out quite a load, covering most of Jotaro’s fingers and far up his chest.
His breathed heavily, Jotaro’s hat fallen forgotten on the pillows. Giorno snuggled into his chest, still aware of Jotaro’s big, thick hard-on against his back.
“Shall I return the favor, Jotaro?” he asked, half-serious. Only half because he was a little intimidated at the thought of Jotaro possibly stuffing his obviously-huge-dick up his ass.
Jotaro huffed, grabbing his hat. He placed it in its rightful place on his head and with ease, scooted out from beneath Giorno’s weight. He stood next to the bed, facing the mob boss as he licked his fingers clean. Giorno didn’t think his face could turn any redder, nor did he think he could be turned on again so soon after an orgasm.
“I helped fix your little problem solely to get my hat back,” Jotaro said, “And so I could sleep without your Stand molesting mine.”
“…Please tell me you’re joking.” Giorno folded his arms, his lips set in a thin line. “Your Stand started it, if I remember correctly.”
“Whatever the case,” Jotaro continued, completely disregarding Giorno’s objection, “Perhaps we’ll have time tomorrow after our official meeting to discuss this further.”
Jotaro took a few steps, stopping at the door to turn back. “One more thing.”
“And that is…?”
“Take my hat again and I’ll pound you.”
Giorno smirked. Oh, he’d be taking Jotaro’s hat again, alright. His mind was made up as Jotaro closed the door behind him; Giorno would attempt to steal Jotaro’s hat again at the first chance next day.
He eyed some folded pieces of paper stuffed in an envelope on the nightstand. It was a handy thing, having Jotaro’s itinerary in his possession. The perks of being the Boss.