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It felt weird, it felt out of place.
Usually it was Jonathan who'd do this. He still remembers the few times Dio would sleep with him (under the pretense of being afraid of thunderstorms. He lately figured out it was a lie, but he was in no place to complain), Jonathan usually would hold him softly, letting Dio sink his head in Jonathan's warm chest. It felt so comfortable and relaxing, feeling the soft scent coming from Dio's soft and thin golden locks.
Now it was a little bit different. Dio's hair grew a lot, he could feel some stray locks tickling his face. The body pressed next to him wasn't Dio's but....his body. Yes, as weird as it seems, it was his body. Merged with Dio's head. Slightly bigger and bulkier than Dio's original one (yet, Jonathan fondly remembers, Dio's body was perfect and incredibly built too). And... it was Dio who'd hold him at their sleep. He was the one cuddling, never letting him go. His cheek would be glued to Jonathan's. This role switch was weird in Jonathan's view, yet good and equally pleasant as it was before.
Jonathan would wake up, feeling a strange warmth inside. Both he and Dio were dead and their skin were cold to the touch by now, but. He felt warm, sleeping with Dio like this. It was oddly relaxing. Looking away from Dio's sleepy (and cute) face, he could see from the window (far, far away from their bed) the orange sky, his beloved (and by now deadly) sun waving goodbye with its last rays crossing the clouds.
Half of an hour later, the sun had already set, stars far beyond becoming visible. Both were still in bed, too lazy to start the day (night, Jonathan had to remind himself he was a creature of the night). Dio was trying to pick up the book he left on the floor, trying to mark the last page he had read, meanwhile Jonathan had his back against the headboard. Both were nude, Jonathan figured out that sleepwear was pretty useless by now when you're undead, therefore not having any body heat. Besides, it was only him and Dio together. No one else to disturb their peace, to make him feel embarrassed, to spark that 19th century victorian gentleman's shame.
"It's silly to ask but why do you hold me so close when we're asleep?" Dio had indirectly sent Jonathan signals that he deeply missed Jojo and cared for him way more than a brother would. Jonathan... strangely enough he wasn't disgusted by that. He had accepted him on the verge of his death. If this was Dio's way of accepting him back, he gladly embraced his efforts.
By now Dio had his back against the headboard too, book in hands and ready to fold the page he was reading. He stopped his actions mid-way, for a split second his eyes glanced to Jonathan's face (who was looking at him, studying his expression). His face remained unreadable, although Jonathan could swear he saw a flash of something in Dio's eyes. The blonde blinked only once, swatting away the blossoming emotions he evoked by the simple memory of something that happened not a long time ago.
"I am simply used to this. I spent almost one century in that coffin like this, sleeping on such tight space." - Jonathan did not need any other clue to know he was actually referring to when he cradled Jonathan's skull almost just like this. Tenderly, like holding a precious treasure. Jonathan averted his gaze away from Dio's face, biting his lip and doing his best effort to not show the small, content smile he did after this realization.
"Ah, I see."