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Dio had never seen anything as beautiful as the sun setting over his kingdom for the first time. He’d been busy the first evening, head tilted back as he lounged on his new throne, drinking in the screams and smell of smoke and drops of blood, and things had gotten away from him after that— through no fault of his own. Being king was hard work, after all. Being a new one was even harder. So much to uproot and put in order, finally wrenching his dreams down from the sky and forcing the world to his design.
But tonight, he stood on his balcony and watched the sun set. Dio put his fingers to his lips as his eyes lingered over the rays of violet, crimson, and gold. The world looked so much better washed in his colors. He almost expected to taste them when he darted his tongue out, or at least to taste the sweet tang of copper, but all he got was rose oil. He’d been scrubbed clean of the war.
Dio wasn’t fool enough to think the peace would last. He would always have dissenters. His legitimacy was in question by nature of the start of his reign. But every problem had a solution, and Dio’s wasn’t far away.
He huffed a laugh and turned away from the view, glancing over at his bed and the very angry alpha tied to the headboard.
“Aren’t you enjoying the scenery, Jojo? It certainly suits you.” Dio’s fingers weaseled into the knot of his sash and pulled it free as he walked over. His robe fell off his shoulders, and not even the muzzle could stifle Jonathan’s gasp.
He’d meant the buildings below, the quaint capital, the civilians— his citizens, now— scuttling like ants beneath his newly royal boot, the farms stretching beyond the walls, and the tantalizing destruction his uprising had brought with it, but now that Dio’s eyes were on him, he realized what really suited Jonathan was the hour. His strong muscles and sunkissed skin glowed with what little remained of the natural light, and that was really the most irritating thing about him. Jonathan was born to belong. He was a prince, a prime alpha, and not even the damn sun could get enough of him.
Dio turned toward his mirror to hide his expression, choosing to admire himself instead of dwelling on it. Unlike the rest of the world, he could tear his eyes away from the famed Prince Joestar whenever he pleased. Dio was no simpering omega, bending over backward for an oaf’s approval. He was king. He would never need to worry about pleasing anyone else ever again.
“Unless I’ve taken your breath away, you are allowed to speak.” Dio let his robe fall to the floor, a splash of crimson pooled around his feet. He was finding he rather liked how scarlet stood out against his skin. It even brought out his eyes. And lucky for him, there was so much left to spill.
The headboard banged loudly against the wall, Jonathan huffing. A failed attempt to snap the thing with his ridiculous strength, still not enough to beat Dio, and Dio didn’t bother hiding his laugh when he turned around. The way Jonathan’s pupils blew wide with rage at the sight and sound of it was a treat all its own.
“Your tyranny won’t last, Dio,” Jonathan seethed. “I’ll see an end to it. I’ll take you down myself if I have to!” He struggled again, the headboard creaking and his bare biceps bulging futilely with the effort. Dio walked over to the bed and dragged his fingers along his straining skin, wondering absently how far he’d have to press before it split.
“So you keep saying, Jojo. But you must know it’s useless by now.” Useless, useless, useless. Dio had heard it so many times over the years, but now his destiny had changed by his own hands. It was his turn to be the one at the top of the world, looking down. His smirk stretched wider on his face, almost maniacally wide, matching the strain in his thighs as he straddled Jonathan’s hips. He took his time settling himself, slotting his ass against Jonathan’s slowly stiffening cock and inhaling the sweet chocolate scent of his anger.
It was stronger now, that scent. It had been wrapped up in bitter grief and sweetened righteousness the last time Dio had been this close to him, wrenching Jonathan’s chin up to force him to watch his father bleeding out. Dio would have let the man live for a while longer, but he was the one who’d taken the blow meant for his son, and there was hardly anything he could have done to prevent it.
Besides, it was no major loss. One piece of the puzzle being lost wouldn’t ruin the whole. Dio wouldn’t be chained by circumstance any longer— he couldn’t be. His destination would be set in stone, but not how he got there. Besides, now that he thought about it, it really was preferable that Jonathan had been the one royal left sobbing in the throne room.
Dio wanted his pups to look like him.
“Yes, useless.” He breathed the word more than said it, caressing it in his mouth before letting it out. It felt so good to be on the other side of it. He could see why so many had been eager to spit it at him over and over again. And now he would spit it at Jonathan until he forgot his name and that was all he answered to. Dio smirked and started to rock his hips back and forth, feeling Jonathan’s cock twitch with interest and watching his face burn with shame and arousal in equal measure. “You haven’t thanked me yet for my generosity, Jojo. I thought you had more manners than that.”
“Generosity?” Jonathan muscled through the word, his jaw tightening as he fought against a groan. Even if the sound didn’t escape, Dio knew him too well to be fooled. “You know nothing of generosity, nor charity or compassion— they’re beyond you, monster.”
“Monster?” Dio laughed, spreading his legs wider. Jonathan inhaled sharply and looked at the ceiling quickly, ever the gentleman. Not even war could scrub that from him. That was how Dio knew his heart wasn’t in it. Jonathan’s voice had caught between one syllable and the next without Dio’s teasing, giving him away completely. “Is that any way to speak to an omega? Let alone your omega.”
“My—?” Jonathan spluttered, his words cutting off nearly as fast as he began them, and Dio took that opportunity to reach between his legs and line Jonathan up. Just when he seemed to find his words, or whatever protest he was trying to mount, Dio sank down an inch, just enough to pop the head of Jonathan’s cock inside. “Dio, you’ve gone mad, I can’t—!”
“Is that what you’ve been telling yourself all this time?” Dio held himself there for a moment, relishing the growing burn in the muscles of his inner thighs. Fighting for everything his entire life had hardened him where an omega of his status should have been soft, but that hadn’t calmed the fire in Jonathan’s eyes when he looked at him. “I know you, Jojo. I’ve seen how your gaze followed me whenever I was in the room. I’ve heard how often you speak of me. I’ve danced with you at every ball this palace has ever held. Did you think I’d never notice? It’s adorable of you, really.”
“No,” Jonathan gasped, even as his hips slid up to give Dio another inch. Dio leaned back, bracing his hands on Jonathan’s knees. He wanted him to see everything. Not just Dio taking his due, but Jonathan giving it to him. His eyes had already slid off to the ceiling to look down at the sight of him disappearing inside Dio, so Dio kindly moved his pretty dick out of the way to make sure he didn’t miss a thing. His fingers settled on the three moles at the base, squeezing lightly. The wood of the headboard strained under the weight of Jonathan’s struggle. “No, I haven’t... Dio. Please.”
“Is that right? I’ll concede that much to you, Jojo.” Dio could give a little. It would still be his victory. He knew his enemy too well to ever lose. “Do you want to look at another way, then?”
“Dio,” Jonathan moaned, a poor attempt at a warning, and this time when he begged Dio couldn’t tell whether he wanted him to stop or keep going. He sank all the way down, watching Jonathan’s teeth dig into his lower lip as Dio took him to the hilt. His eyes squeezed shut tight, and Dio wondered if he was living up to all the times Jonathan had clearly dreamed of this.
“You danced with me every chance you could. You’re the one who replaced my tutors when I outpaced them, even through your jealousy. And you’re the one who chased every suitor away, aren’t you?” Dio lifted himself up, moaning loudly at the stretch. The ropes around Jonathan’s wrists stretched when he tried to jerk forward, but Dio wasn’t scared. They’d hold, and even if they didn’t, Jonathan’s lust had overtaken his rage.
Dio leaned forward, resting his hands on Jonathan’s chest. He dug his nails in and set a rough pace, refusing to let either of them adjust. He’d imagined this too, so many times across all the years since he’d been taken in by King Joestar. And now that he was gone and Dio was king… nothing would stand in his way again.
“You didn’t think they could handle me. You didn’t think they were good enough.” Dio drew himself nearly all the way out and then slammed down hard. Jonathan’s hips jolted up to meet his, his facade slipping. If not for the ropes, Dio could have imagined this was their proper wedding night.
Although, when Dio had imagined it in his head, touching himself in the bath or squeezing his legs together in the library, they had been in a very different position. At least Dio was sure he knew how to get his way. He’d become an expert in it, after all.
“No alpha is better for me than you. You think I didn’t know that, Jojo? None of them could fill me properly. None of them could breed me properly.” Dio dropped all the way down, throwing his head back and moaning loudly. Something splintered, but he couldn’t be bothered to register it. He was so close. “None of them would give me the pups I deserve. But you would, wouldn’t you, Jojo? You love me enough to. Even after everything I’ve done.”
Dio didn’t get the chance to close his eyes before Jonathan split the headboard in two, but it didn’t matter. He was on his back in a matter of seconds, Jonathan caging his wrists above his head, his hips pinning him to the bed. He growled loud, teeth bared, and before Dio could keep egging him on, Jonathan’s face was buried in his neck.
To say that the sensation of Jonathan finally biting into him was euphoric would have been an understatement punishable by death. It had been euphoric to sit on his throne for the first time, to be recognized as ruler, to know Jonathan would be his. But to feel it, to have the point of Jonathan’s fangs drag him over the edge and rewrite his very brain chemistry with the heat of a roaring fire— there were no words for it. It was heaven. And though Dio had no plans to see it after death, he was sure he’d just gotten as close as he ever needed to.
Dio’s first orgasm of many slipped beneath his notice, drowned out by his bone-deep snugness, but Jonathan made sure he felt the second. He pulled back, blood dripping on Dio’s bare chest as he snapped his hips forward animalistically. He fucked like he was fighting, either with Dio or himself, but it didn’t matter. He was the one who was losing.
“Gods, Jojo, Jona—!” Dio’s back arched and he screamed, eyes squeezed shut, hoping everyone in the castle heard him and how good their former prince was fucking their new king. He spilled over his stomach again, drops of white nearly disappearing against his pale skin.
Something prickled at the back of his head— something that wasn’t his. He knew right away because it was the phantom sensation of shame, something he’d long run out of, but there was more there. Joy. Relief. Lust. Pain. Dio opened his eyes and looked up at Jonathan, wishing he could reach up to touch his cheek and smear the blood there. His neck ached, but the pleasure of the mating bond erased the worst of it. All he felt was a dull throb pulsing in time with Jonathan’s thrusts, and then slipping away as Jonathan’s pace started to falter, growing erratic.
Dio let his eyes lower, inhaling sharply. He knew Jonathan’s cock was huge. He’d seen it, and he was currently feeling it, but just the sight of his knot swelling knocked the breath out of him. It looked bigger every time it met his rim, and that was supposed to fit inside him? He could already see the head of Jonathan’s length pressing against the skin of his stomach.
When he looked back up at Jonathan, he felt nervousness pooling somewhere it didn’t go, just above the start of his spine. Wrong. Wrong. It was his new mate’s, he could tell— Jonathan’s eyes glinted in the fading light outside, a sharp stab of concern close behind.
Dio had an inkling that Jonathan planned on pulling out. Or, at the very least, denying his rightful ruler his full self, and Dio wouldn’t stand for that. Nor would he take it lying down. He had several things to say about that, but he started by wrapping his legs around Jonathan’s hips.
“I almost look pregnant already, don’t I? Look, Jojo.” Command bled into his voice, something usually only alphas got to enjoy, but Jonathan’s gaze dropped down obediently. He nearly let go, his wrists twitching with intention, and then his grip tightened.
No matter. The wheels visibly turned in Jonathan’s eyes, his hard strokes relaxing into grinding circles. The full width of his knot was a horrible tease that kept slipping away whenever Jonathan caught himself, but Dio was ready for him.
“Are you going to get me pregnant?” Dio leveled him with a stare that was pure challenge. Even on his back, split open on his alpha’s cock, Dio refused to submit peacefully. If Jonathan wasn’t planning on defeating him, then he planned on enjoying a long, long victory. Nine months and far beyond. “Jojo, I want your pups. Isn’t that enough? I can feel you so deep. I know you can get deeper. I want you. I’m yours now, aren’t I?”
His simple question went unanswered. The truth was obvious, though, given how Jonathan slid his thighs further under Dio’s and did exactly as he was meant to.
But it was Jonathan, of course, and even as he fucked and claimed his enemy, his rival, he was still gentle and sweet. Because this was Jonathan. And Jonathan, for all the fits he’d thrown about the omega having higher scores and more friends and better charm, had never been able to take his eyes off him. His hands had barely managed, always steady against Dio’s side or back, ruffling his hair when he thought Dio was asleep, gently carrying him from the library or wherever he’d fallen asleep to his bed, and now they were glued to him.
Because this was Jonathan. His Jojo. Dio might have turned his world upside down, usurped his throne, and murdered his family, but Jonathan still loved him. He always would.
He could have shoved his knot inside recklessly. Dio was certainly wet enough for it, and he could have handled the stretch. Jonathan was still ridiculously careful, easing it in, but perhaps that was his form of gentle torture. Dio was helpless to do anything but feel every bit to its fullest, and normally he would have twisted and fought, but it was beautiful. It was his.
When Jonathan reached the widest part of the swell, Dio’s body lost its patience. A fresh wave of slick and the rest of his length slid in. Jonathan’s hips smacked against his, his eyes bright with surprise, but it was only a moment before they squeezed shut in ecstacy. Dio felt it bloom in the part of his mind that had been carved out for Jonathan’s half of the bond, drowning out anything and everything else.
“Dio.” It was all the warning he got before Jonathan slumped over, grip loosened, moaning as he spilled himself inside Dio. His fingers trailed down from Dio’s wrists to his sides, thumbs digging into the soft skin of his slowly growing stomach, and Dio hauled him closer by tangling his hair in his claws. The knot would make sure none of him escaped, he knew that, but still he refused to run the risk. They gasped in tandem at the feeling of his body giving, letting Jonathan slide forward just a bit more, their breaths mingling as they stared at each other in wonder.
“It’s not enough.” Dio’s own urgency caught him off guard, his breathlessness even more so. He was supposed to be in control, even fucked and full and still bleeding a bit. He’d resisted the debilitating pleasure of his mating bond, and he’d even managed to leash his climaxes, but the sight of Jonathan’s hair sticking to his forehead as he looked at him with that ridiculously devoted gaze— it wasn’t painful or unexpected, but his heart ached. “It’s not enough, Jojo.”
“Don’t worry.” Jonathan pushed forward and kissed him hard. Dio had imagined he’d taste like sunshine and strawberries, but all he could taste was his own copper. He still moaned and dug his nails into Jonathan’s scalp, dragging his teeth over Jonathan’s lower lip until his alpha made his escape. Even then, it was only to nose against Dio’s bond mark and press his tongue against it. “I’ll give you more. As many times as you need for it to take, Dio. You’re mine now.”
He kissed his neck hard, right over a mark his fang had left, and Dio gasped sweetly. He could feel the hint of something start in Jonathan’s mind and then pull back, covered with desire and pup fever, but it hadn’t been fast enough. He kissed the side of Jonathan’s head, running his fingers through his curls, and let them both daydream of pups and pregnancy.
Dio was sure Jonathan thought bearing pups would weaken him enough to be subdued, to be brought back to heel or punished for his mutiny. He did adore his alpha, of course, but Jonathan had such funny ideas about the way the world worked. He was far too happy to believe the stories and lies society told him, content to play the role of the dashing gentleman prince who would always do what was right above all.
Dio couldn’t wait to see his face when he realized an alpha would do anything for their omega. Especially with the sweet scent of pregnancy clouding around them. He may have been Jonathan’s now, and they would share a lovely line of princes, but he’d never fool himself into believing it only went one way. Jonathan was his now, forevermore.
And he was never going to let him go.