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The sun was setting outside of the hospital. Nearly all of the other visitors had gone home for the day and the rest were being steadily escorted out by the nursing staff. One of the few left in the building was a teenage boy in a scruffy tank top and beaten up old blue jeans who was sitting by the bed of another teenage boy.
The one lying on the bed was unconscious, hooked up to all sorts of monitoring machines and tubes that made the other boy wince whenever he looked at them. On the footboard of his bed was a clipboard with information on his condition, one word that stood out being “coma”. Aside from that, and a few bandages crisscrossing over his torso that could be seen through his thin hospital gown, the boy looked like a sleeping angel with the way his normally stylized hair now lay limp and disheveled around him. His name was Josuke.
The one sitting next to him still had his hair stylized into its usual small pompadour, albeit with a few hairs out of place. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept properly in a while, and his eyes were slightly red and misty as if he’d been crying earlier. Which was most likely the case given how desperately he was clutching at the unconscious boy’s hand. His name was Okuyasu.
Josuke had wound up in the hospital again after their most recent battle with a few very powerful stand users. The enemy had captured several members of their group, Josuke included, and trapped them in a crushing machine that was only being stopped from killing them thanks to his cousin (he refused to say nephew, they both hated that term) Jotaro’s stand Star Platinum using all of his strength to stop the machine. While this kept their immediate death at bay, the ones that Josuke was trapped in the crusher with were severely injured and nearly dead with the enemy stand users remotely causing them more harm while mocking them from the safety they had outside of the machine.
Josuke, being the kind person that he is, had used his stand Crazy Diamond to keep the others alive with its healing abilities. Unfortunately, every time he used his stand to fix one thing, the enemies would inflict something ten times worse. His stand ended up being the only thing keeping the others alive and if he stopped healing them for even a moment then they would die, leaving him no room to find a way out. Between that and the fact that they were still attacking Josuke himself, he ended up pushing himself past his limits while his enemies mocked him for how useless he was.
Thankfully Okuyasu and the rest of their group had shown up when they did and were able to bust open the machine holding Josuke and the others prisoner. The enemy stand users were easily defeated now that they were outnumbered, but the others were still in critical condition.
Josuke had lost consciousness by the time the others had arrived, but his body and will had gone on autopilot and, even with his eyes glazed over and his mind unresponsive, he continued to give everything he had to keep the others alive and used his stand to keep them from bleeding out- he’d lost the strength to fully close their wounds by that point, but he was still the only thing keeping them alive.
It wasn’t until the ambulances arrived that they were finally able to get Josuke to stop. Once the others were being treated by the doctors and loaded into the vehicles, Okuyasu came up behind Josuke’s kneeling body and wrapped his arms around him with the words “You did great, Josuke. You saved the day. Now take a break.”
Josuke had fully passed out in his arms on the spot, his flickering stand finally disappearing as his subconscious allowed him to rest. Okuyasu then carried him into the ambulance and had been allowed to ride with him to the hospital.
That had been more than a week ago. Okuyasu had come by every day to visit his boyfriend in the hospital and see if he’d woken up yet. From dawn to dusk, he’d sit right by Josuke’s bedside and alternate between talking to him about how the others were doing, doing his homework that was sent to him, and sitting quietly holding his hand like he was now.
The others came to visit Josuke, of course, but Okuyasu was the one who spent the most time there. He knew that the hospital was safe- the SPW facilities had special guarded sectors set aside for them in case of emergencies- but he couldn’t help wanting to be there to make sure that he was the one to keep his boyfriend safe. Maybe it was because he blamed himself for what happened- for not being there when Josuke was in danger.
Then again, Josuke was never the type to like being saved, so it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Given back up in a difficult fight, especially when it was against multiple opponents? Absolutely. But that was different from being treated like a damsel in distress who needed someone stronger to come and save him, and Okuyasu knew from experience that Josuke was NO damsel- hell, he knew first-hand how strong the guy was!
But that strength was also part of the problem.
Josuke was strong, in many ways, but one thing that many people in his family (on both sides of the family tree) held great strength in was their pride- something the flashy teenager had in spades. He would act like he wasn’t hurt, even when he was, because his pride demanded that he be strong enough to continue fighting alongside his friends and family despite his injuries- he refused to stand back and play the role of nursemaid while everyone else took to the frontlines. He would act like everything was okay, even when it clearly wasn’t, because his pride demanded that he continue smiling and being the shining star of the group to make everyone else feel better- a healer had to focus on those around him, not the other way around. He would smile, even when he was unhappy, because his pride demanded that he be the strongest emotionally out of everyone around him- he would be there to comfort everyone else, but he couldn’t let anyone else be there to comfort him and take on his burdens.
Okuyasu was the only exception to these rules, although it was hardly Josuke’s choice in the matter.
When Josuke got hurt, Okuyasu would be the one to forcefully pull him aside and bandage him up enough to get back into the fight. When something was bothering Josuke, Okuyasu started to pay extra attention and try to figure out what it was so he could deal with it to the best of his ability (usually by breaking something). When Josuke put on that fake smile, Okuyasu would see it and hold him until he eventually broke down and let the perfect mask slip.
Josuke hated to let others see what was beneath that perfect smile and positive attitude that he wore around everyone else. Beneath the mask was something that most people would consider ugly:
Scars.
Jagged, ugly, and twisted marks that many would see as imperfections- blemishes that could never be treated and would forever mar something that was once seen as pristine.
Okuyasu had scars, too, obviously- visible right on his face. He had more that could be seen on his arms and along his shoulders before disappearing beneath the edges of his shirt. His scars were out in the open for the whole world to see and judge. Most people formed their opinions of him right away because of his scars, usually jumping to the conclusion that he was a thug and a tough guy (though he wouldn’t complain about the second part). People viewed him as someone who couldn’t be trusted and kept a close eye on him wherever he went.
The ones who could see past his physical scars, however, quickly got to see the deeper scars underneath the surface. They got to learn about his past, about his family, and about all he’d been through in his life to wound him so deeply. Those scars were what ultimately endeared people to him, making them see the pain that both types of scars left on him and wanting to be closer to him. His scars helped him form bonds with people.
Josuke’s scars, on the other hand, were hidden a lot better than his boyfriend’s.
Having a stand that could heal others but couldn’t actually heal his own wounds meant that when he got injured in a fight there would be scars from it. Josuke was careful not to get a scar in an obvious place if he could help it, with most of them being on his legs and far enough inward on his torso that they’d only ever be visible with his shirt off. He would smile and joke about never letting his face get scarred, calling it his “moneymaker” and being overly dramatic in a comedic way about it being damaged. The truth, however, was that he just didn’t want a scar where people could see it and feel bad for him- especially his friends and family, because looking at it would just be a constant reminder of a bad fight where one of them failed to help him when he needed it. So, to avoid making anyone feel bad, Josuke tried his hardest to only receive scars from the chest-down and let no one else see them.
Okuyasu had seen them, however. They’d been together for nearly a year now, so of course he’d seen them. More than once, at that.
The first time had been by accident, just a quick glimpse when he’d walked into Josuke’s room while the other teen had been changing clothes. They had been together for a few months by then, but the idea of accidentally catching his boyfriend half-naked had flustered Okuyasu so much that he’d immediately apologized and slammed the door shut with a bright red face. While waiting for him to finish changing, Okuyasu kept thinking of the brief glance he’d gotten of his boyfriend’s chiseled body. He was gorgeous, no denying that, especially with the slight flush that had appeared on Josuke’s cheeks when he saw Okuyasu at the door. One thing did stick in his mind, however- an odd pair of scars right beneath Josuke’s pecs. He knew what they were from now, but was incredibly curious about it for several weeks afterwards.
The second time had been on purpose, taking place during their first actual night of intimacy. There had been a lot of shy glances and awkward fumbling of clothes until they’d both wound up shirtless- all of their scars exposed for the other’s judgement. It had been nerve-wracking for Okuyasu, to have someone as perfect and hot as his boyfriend looking at him in such a way. But, when he finally worked up the courage to look back at the other boy, he noticed that Josuke seemed far more anxious than he was- self-consciously holding his shirt to his chest in an attempt to hide his body from his lover’s gaze while nervously biting at his lip. It was the most vulnerable and scared he’d ever seen the normally confident and brave boy, and, by some miracle, his mind came up with just the right words to say before he wrapped Josuke up in his arms and held him close so the other boy could relax and feel the safety and love he deserved:
“You’re perfect. I love you.”
That was the first look that Okuyasu got at both the scars on Josuke’s body, as well as the ones hidden deeper within. After seeing deeper into his beloved Jojo’s heart and mind, there was no going back- he began to see everything the other boy tried to hide. He saw his flaws, his insecurities, his anxieties, his coping mechanisms, and his fears.
And, with each new scar he found or each new one that formed over time, Okuyasu would do the only thing he could ever think to do: Hold his boyfriend and remind him that he was perfect and loved, scars and all.
Okuyasu’s mind began to return to the present, his thoughts being reined in by the faintest twitching of the fingers he’d been holding in his palm the whole time. “Josuke..?” He asked quietly, observing the other boy’s face as his eyelids began to twitch and spasm slightly as well.
Finally, those bright, beautiful eyes opened and looked towards him with great difficulty. “O..Oku..yasu…?” His voice was rough and scratchy from lack of use- a sound that Okuyasu was uncomfortably familiar with by now.
Okuyasu just smiled at him, the corners of his eyes tearing up. “Geez, took you long enough! You get enough beauty sleep yet?”
Josuke smiled back, giving his boyfriend’s hand a weak squeeze to comfort him. “Five more minutes.” He joked with a small smile before he started to look tired again. “Did…Did we win…?”
“What kind of dumb question is that?” Okuyasu grinned while stroking his thumb along the back of Josuke’s hand. “Of course we did! You should’ve seen it, I ripped the door clean off that crusher thing and-” He stopped when he noticed that Josuke was looking at his own chest, likely feeling the bandages there now. “……” With a sigh, the pompadoured teen shrugged with a roll of his eyes. “I mean, it wasn’t that bad. Eh, I’ll tell ya about it later.”
“Okay…” His boyfriend’s answer was non-committal at best and Okuyasu could already tell what he was thinking about.
“Hey,” He began before shifting over to sit on the side of the bed so that he could lean down and lovingly smother his beloved in a warm embrace. “You’re perfect. I love you.”
“Oku…” Josuke was surprised by the sudden embrace, but his look of shock soon began to turn into something more solemn. “……” His arms were still heavy from not using them for a week, but he managed to lift them enough to wrap them around his boyfriend. “…Thank you…”
At first the injured boy’s arms were light on his boyfriend’s shoulders. But, by the time he’d gotten close enough to bury his face against the other’s shoulder and Okuyasu could feel drops of liquid soaking both the cloth of his shirt and his exposed skin, Josuke’s grip had turned almost desperate and white-knuckled, his body trembling as he clenched the back of Okuyasu’s shirt and bunched up the fabric in his grip.
And Okuyasu held Josuke close for as long as he needed him to, just like he always did in these moments when the other boy’s wounds were open and exposed for him to see. He didn’t mind; he would never mind, even if he had to do this for the rest of their lives. He would always be there to patch his boyfriend up and kiss away the pain from his wounds.
After all, they both had scars, and it was part of what made them who they are.
Part of what made them love each other.
Part of what made them perfect.