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Of course he's clingier than usual. How could he not be? Avdol's come back to life.
He claps a hand on Avdol's back, and pulls the man close in a well-meaning hug. Avdol flashes him a grin, and doesn't move away as the rest of their group orders their food. Under the table, their feet are hooked together, and Avdol seems perfectly content with it. Polnareff feels bubbly with the pseudo-validation. Feels ecstatic about it.
Everyone else enables him, too. Jotaro waits for Polnareff to get in the back seat of their rental jeep to sit beside Avdol before getting in himself. Kakyoin includes Polnareff in his conversations with Avdol a lot now; he's so genuine about it that it doesn't feel too weird. Polnareff's always paying attention to Avdol anyway, just in case. He doesn't want to lose sight of his friend again.
Mr. Joestar switches rooms with Polnareff so that Polnareff shares a room with Avdol instead of sleeping alone like usual. That in particular feels odd, because Polnareff has always preferred solitary lodgings, but he couldn't even consider that when Avdol is right here, with him.
Before their...separation, they were close, but not truly. Polnareff had kept a distance due to how often they clashed—even though he knew deep down that Avdol cared about him, and vice versa. They were close, but it felt weirdly necessary to show Avdol that they weren't that close. Something to do with his own agenda—his sister's murderer was out there and he kept his distance with everyone. Something to do with his ego, perhaps.
There is no need for that now. Polnareff wouldn't dream of deliberately putting distance between himself and his newfound brothers-in-arms, not after everything. Sherry has told him long, long ago that he is a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, but it feels like ages since he's expressed himself as much as he wants to. After avenging his sister, and with current company, he feels himself return to his older self. There isn't a reason to hold himself back as much, now.
He doesn't want to hold back with Avdol.
Listening to Avdol tell him stories about his childhood, Polnareff couldn't even try holding back with Avdol. His voice is soothing and despite the indentation in his forehead serving as a painful reminder, he still looks good. Polnareff feels as though Avdol's voice could take him away somewhere wonderful, and he'd willingly follow.
Perhaps he's in love.
He's not surprised.
"Jean," Avdol says, stealing Polnareff away from his thoughts, "Are you alright?"
"Yes!" Polnareff's voice seems shaky but he reiterates, forcing the tremor away, "Of course I am. I'm wonderful. You must take me to these childhood markets of yours one day, Avdol, I'm curious to see what they are like. If you say it's not as crowded as India...then..." He's reminded of Calcutta, and Polnareff makes himself speak, "Then it must not be so bad! I would love to see it."
Sherry has also mentioned that Polnareff is an especially expressive person, so who knows what sort of expression he is making now?
"Jean, if I may," Avdol says, in his mother hen tone, the one that Polnareff has severely missed, "Would you like to talk? About what happened?"
Avdol's hands are on the bed in stark contrast against the white hotel bedsheets. Polnareff wants to touch them so badly, to just establish contact between them.
"We've talked about it too many times by now, haven't we? I know everything, even if everyone kept me in the dark before."
"That's precisely it. We've talked, but you've only listened. It seems like..." Avdol's fingers twitch, and Polnareff curls his own into a fist, "It seems as if you have much more to say, but have not yet done so."
Polnareff could use words. He always has; he's never mistaken to be quiet and reserved. But somehow trying to describe whatever he's feeling right now is extremely difficult.
How does one try to vocalize feelings like this?
"I'm...I'm just really glad you're here, Avdol."
And he is. He absolutely is. His chest feels tight, like it's hard to breathe and it's almost ridiculous how emotional he is about this. If there was one good thing about hosting DIO's flesh bud, it was that his emotions were dulled. The urge to kill was strong, but his true emotions were muted and suppressed.
Now, it hits him full blast.
He's so glad.
Avdol's hand covers his own and squeezes it. His touch is warm and alive, and Polnareff could weep.
"Come here, Jean."
He practically crashes into Avdol, hugging the man as hard as he could. He hears the breath getting knocked out of Avdol but he can't bring himself to apologize just yet, he just wants to stay this close to Avdol for as long as he's able.
Avdol has died for him.
Even if it was out of necessity, or some moral code Avdol followed, it felt profound. It feels—
He doesn't remember the last time he felt loved.
"I thought I was going to lose you twice," he says, speaking against the crook of Avdol's neck, " When Judgment brought you and Sherry back, I thought I would lose you again. Either you'd kill me, or I'd watch you die. I wanted to—" his voice trails off, but Avdol rubs a hand over his back, comforting, "I wanted to die. I couldn't lose you a second time."
Avdol says something in Arabic that he couldn't understand, but it sounds like an admonishment, "Jean."
Polnareff shakes his head, "I lost someone I cared for again, Avdol. I can't describe how it hurts. Death would have been merciful for me."
He could sense Avdol's dissatisfaction, but instead of arguing, Avdol just shifted his arms around Polnareff, holding him closer. Polnareff's heart swells with emotion, almost impossibly so, and he clings on to his friend for as long as he could. Avdol is warm.
Warm and alive, blessedly alive, and Polnareff pulls back just to look at Avdol's face.
"It was cruel to let me think you were dead all this time."
Avdol has the sense to look guilty, at least, "I know. It was. I wish we didn't come to that conclusion. We thought it was necessary but I'm afraid it may have caused you more pain than we imagined."
There must have been tears in Polnareff's eyes, because Avdol places a hand on Polnareff's face, swiping his thumb gently over the Frenchman's cheek, "I apologize for doing that to you."
Polnareff has always been a romantic. He gets carried away with the idea of romance every so often, with beautiful, fleeting women he's met in his travels. The idea of love is attractive and bittersweet to him. The singular focus of avenging Sherry has suppressed his notions of romance along with his emotions somewhat, and it has also returned to him with a vengeance. He thinks he could see love in the way Avdol is looking at him right now.
"I forgive you."
"Thank you," Avdol almost whispers, his gratitude palpable, and Polnareff could just—With how close they are, Polnareff could simply tilt his face and—
"Can I kiss you?"
The question hangs in the air, but it's a significant weight off his chest.
Avdol's eyes go wide, but admirably doesn't let Polnareff go. His eyes drop down to Polnareff's mouth in a split second, before he almost visibly shakes himself out of it, looking into Polnareff's eyes again. It makes Polnareff smile.
"It'll complicate things, Jean."
"How so?"
Avdol sighs, and the sound is so familiar that Polnareff's heart aches.
"I understand how much you've been hurting, and that you need comfort. I don't think I'm the right person for that. We are on a mission with bigger priorities, we cannot afford any distractions."
"We are on a journey to fight a really strong adversary. We might not survive," Polnareff steels himself through the idea of losing people, yet again, "I might not survive. I don't want to waste what time we have left. I'm ugly when I'm pining, Avdol."
He places his hand over Avdol's, the one that still hasn't left his face, "I care for you deeply. Thinking that you were gone forever made me realize things about myself, and how I'd never be able to act on them. But you're here now. And I have to tell you."
Avdol looks lost, and Polnareff has never seen him this way before. He's so grateful to be able to learn new things about Avdol, truly. Polnareff leans into Avdol's hand just a little, "It's okay to say no. But consider this a punishment. You let me think you were dead for 2 weeks, so now you get to live with the knowledge that I'm crazy about you, you bastard."
He grins, and Avdol's still looking at him in surprise. Avdol isn't letting him go despite the silence, and it's all Polnareff could ask for.
"This isn't fair," Avdol says.
"It's exactly fair, don't even—"
Avdol leans in closer, and Polnareff goes quiet. Avdol's amber eyes are bright with life and emotion and Polnareff wants him so much that it's physically painful.
"This is a bad idea," Avdol mumbles, but then presses their lips together and Polnareff melts into the kiss almost immediately. The dull throbbing of his bandaged wounds is a background sensation, all Polnareff could focus in on is Avdol's warmth, his mouth, his passion.
Polnareff's in love.
"It really isn't," he gasps, the moment he gets the chance to, lost in Avdol's touch, "I think this is the best thing that has happened to me in a while."
"Jean," Avdol sounds wrecked, "Don't say that. You know that this is risky."
Polnareff kisses him furiously, and they're frantic with each other for a moment.
"You saving my life was risky. This isn't nearly as severe," he's halfway in Avdol's lap, and Avdol's hands on his hips are solid and grounding, "Let us have what we want for a while, Avdol."
Their foreheads touch, and Polnareff revels in how right this feels. He could stay this way for eternity.
"Why do we always disagree?"
Polnareff thinks he might get addicted to this newfound physicality. How will he refrain from touching Avdol on their journey? In public?
"Sexual tension, obviously," Polnareff quips, and Avdol splutters in surprise so comically that Polnareff bursts into laughter.
Avdol can't keep a straight face, embarrassment creeping into his features, and it's entirely endearing. "Told you this was punishment," Polnareff presses his lips to Avdol's nose, Avdol's cheeks.
After 4 years, he could let himself love again. His sister is avenged, he's met someone wonderful; Polnareff could allow himself these feelings again.
Avdol sighs, soft and happy despite the flustered edge to his voice, "It doesn't feel like punishment."
And Polnareff lets himself love.