Kiss, A JonaDio Fanfic

IIX.

Courage

While his face remains busy at his neck his hands begin tugging at Dio's shirt. Faint pants escape Jojo's lips.

       "J-Jonathan," he gasps, grabbing his hand, "calm down."

Realizing what he's done, he pulls away and turns his face from him, a fiery blush filling the apples of his cheeks. "Forgive me," he apologizes, "you're not gaining any rest with me here." 

He begins moving further away, unable to muster the courage to look at him after his lustful behavior and yet, unable to remove himself from the bed. Unable to leave. His mind draws a blank, scrambling to find what to say, an excuse for why he isn't already out the door. To his side, the rustling of fabric travels to his ears. His heart races anxiously, wondering what Dio must be doing. 

        "Better?" Dio asks.

Jojo slowly looks to him. His blush spreads to the rest of his face as his eyes soak in the tantalizing sight. He's removed his shirt, exposing his statuesque form. "It was too warm with it on anyway," he adds, tossing it off the bed. 

Dio closes his eyes and leans against the headboard again. Steadily but cautiously, Jojo shrinks the distance between their bodies, grateful for the second chance he's been generously given, that is, until it dawns on him, Should I remove my own? Isn't the fabric only in the way of my chill? Wouldn't it benefit him more without it?

He removes it and folds it neatly before setting it on the nightstand. He proceeds to sit by him again, but this time with his arms embracing his torso as his head returns to that beguiling spot, thick lashes tickling the skin at his neck. Holding him this way extinguishes a greater degree from his fever so Dio lifts an arm and wraps it around Jojo's shoulders.

It doesn't take long till they each begin to sleep.