A Night in Cairo | Joseph Joestar x Reader

Out of all the places in the world you could've ended up, the least of which you expected was a rag-tag tavern in Egypt. You'd been staying in Cairo for a few days now, walking through the land of hieroglyphics, crocodiles, and ancient Gods. At the end of a hot day, the desert cooled, and you'd found your way to this watering hole. Every inch of this place screamed that it was ancient; the way every brick was laid, slightly off-centered, told of its age. You'd perched on a barstool, drinking some type of coconut drink that was a little too sweet to taste, but in the desert, you took what you could get. You tossed two or three back before the bartender set another one in front of you.

“Thank you,” you said, your words sounding a little slurred.

“Don't thank me, thank him,” the bartender said, throwing his thumb over his burly shoulder towards a man who was sitting at the corner of the bar. An Indiana Jones style hat and a nice yellow shirt caught your eye. He looked up from the brim of his hat, his white gloved finger tips flicking it up, blue-green eyes meeting your own. His lips twitched into a smirk, you finding yourself unable to do much but marvel at the man.

He seemed stacked, that was for sure. His shoulders were wide, his shirt form fitting enough to show that he was definitely ripped. Your eyes drifted to the little bits of grey hair peeking out from under his hat, looking down you could see he was equipped with facial hair to match; a silver fox. You decided, after a moment, it was only courteous to return his smile, waving. His arm raised quickly, a grin on his face as he waved back.

As the night went on, it became clear that you were going to spend all your money in this bar. You kept tossing drinks back like you were still in the desert sun, the alcohol working against you to just make you thirstier and thirstier. The man at the corner of the bar continued to buy every third drink you had, but what you didn't quite piece together was how time seemed to bend, you sitting on your own one second, and then in his lap the next. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, a lazy smile on both of your faces as you didn’t quite realise that your words were slurring just a bit more than his.

You hadn't noticed, too worried about the warmth in your cheeks and the way your arms fit perfectly slung over his shoulders, but he'd paid both of your tabs. He sauntered out of the bar with you on his side, his arm around your waist and his hand in your back pocket of your jeans, walking you down the street. For just a moment, your drunken haze cleared, and you remembered his name.

“Joseph,” you said, his name feeling much better than it should have rolling off of your tongue, “where are we going?” you asked. The words struggled to get out of your mouth, falling out like rocks instead of sliding out the way you imagined. He chuckled at the sound of your jumbled voice.

“We're going to my hotel,” he reminded you, his arm tightening around your waist as your ankles tried to give out. You came up on a hotel in no time, it not quite fitting in with the rest of the desert scenery. He waltzed you through the empty lobby, no bellboy or concierge in sight as you walked up a nice, sturdy, velvet staircase. You had a little trouble with the steps, your mind getting the signals crossed as both of your feet decided to be left.

You successfully made it up the stairs, or you must have, considering you were in his room now. The door closed, a loud ‘bang’ as you watched him take his hat off, resting it on a wall hook. He ran a gloved hand through his silver locks, his eyes drifting over towards you. They held a different feeling, his pupils dilated, and you felt… hunted. You were nothing but prey to him, and he was the predator- this was simply the food chain in work. He stepped into you, you realising he was taller than you remembered, looming over you as his hand brushed the stray hairs from your face, his lips parted slightly while he looked you over.