Chapter Text
Kishibe Rohan wasn't one for simple “crushes”.
Certainly there’d been his babysitter when he was 5, and that woman when he was in his teens who he never saw again, but those were fleeting things.
No, this was something else entirely.
This was interrupting his work, so it was DEFINITELY something new. The way his eyes traced a structured jawline, followed a well defined profile, watched a pair of stunning yet undeniably masculine lips move… If anyone were to ask him about his staring, he’d insist he was only studying him. He was an ARTIST, after all. It could work. And he WAS, indeed, using the man as a sketch subject more often than not.
The truth? Rohan wasn't really sure.
Romance wasn't really his “thing”. The idea of being in a relationship wasn't in his priorities. But of course, any relation of one Higashikata Josuke just HAD to go and mess that up.
--
He was doing it again.
Tracing, following, watching, staring.
He noticed little things while he watched the man from afar. There were faint freckles dusting his cheekbones, likely from days spent out under the Morioh sun fishing about in tide pools. His eyes were mostly sea green, but in certain light he could tell they had blue and even gold in them. His dark hair had the barest touch of grey, the strands glinting among the slicked back locks. His skin was remarkably well cared for, for a college student that is (but then wasn’t the Joestar family loaded? Hmm…). Most enjoyably, he seemed just as annoyed at his relative’s antics (truly a man of taste).
All in all, Kujo Jotaro was quite a beautiful sight.
--
Tracing, following, watching, staring…
This was starting to get hard to defend.
Pages upon pages of sketches of the same man filled his drawing pad. Everything from simple profiles to him sitting to poses from his imagination. He’d envisioned Jotaro in poses that he’d not seen outside of fashion magazines and modeling shoots. He’d even attempted more risqué sketches before he completely scribbled them out and moved on to something else. That was when he realized just how far down he’d gone.
He knew he ought to stop, but something still made him sit and watch the man going about his business.
What WAS the term for this feeling...