⚜️Phenomenal Beauty⚜️ Jonadio Oneshot book

⚜️ Accident ⚜️

When Jonathan presses his thumb just so, all the considerable effort Dio has poured into maintaining his carefully groomed facade disintegrates in the blink of an eye and profanities launch from his mouth with the rattle and speed of a Gatling gun.

"You said it didn't hurt!"

Jonathan has the audacity to look accusing from where he's kneeling in front of him, injured foot in a delicate grasp. Dio breathes through his nose in an attempt to calm down before the tears of humiliation burning at the corners of his eyes begin to spill over. He's not twelve anymore, he tells himself, as his soft pink fingertips dig into the bark of the tree he's leaning against hard enough to draw blood.

"It didn't," he spells out through gritted teeth, "before you started prodding."

It's a blatant lie and Jonathan can presumably tell, because he doesn't dignify Dio with a response. Instead he stands up with Dio's boot in his hand, turns around and leans forward, hands on his knees.

"I'll carry you back," he says.

"Absolutely not," Dio spits out before reining in his anger. "Please don't exert yourself for my sake."

"Dio, you're injured! It's no skin off my back, really."

"We're not so far from home that I can't walk back. It's no trouble."

"Exactly," he says, trying to sound more reasonable than stubborn and failing, "So I can just as well carry you the rest of the way."

Before Dio can formulate any further protests Jonathan backs up against him, deliberately throwing him off-balance so that he'll be forced to lean against him for support. With a sense of purpose and determination that might have been impressive under different circumstances, Jonathan reaches behind him to grab Dio's legs and levers him further up by rocking his upper body forward. Dio has little choice but to reach his arms around Jonathan's neck and hold on as the other adjusts his grip and starts walking briskly forward over the yellowing grass.

Fresh autumn winds have already begun to blow and Jonathan's hair tickles his face from time to time, enveloping him in his scent. Dio can feel the muscles in Jonathan's back shift underneath him, can feel the bulk of his ribcage against the insides of Dio's thighs; Jonathan's steady stride pounding out a rhythm on the ground that reverberates through their bodies, all the way up Dio's spine. He's panting, but not excessively so; sometimes he has to stop to haul his adopted brother's slightly smaller frame up again and every time he does it becomes harder to ignore the friction of cloth against cloth. Dio bites his lip and concentrates on the pain in his left foot.

They reach the stables close to the Joestar mansion within thirty minutes. After carefully setting Dio down Jonathan realises he dropped his boot along the way and runs back to look for it.

Dio watches his shrinking frame and curses quietly, but for an entirely different reason this time.