Chapter Text
Josuke pulled the lapels of his leather jacket tighter around himself as he turned off the sidewalk and into the park. He always cut through this park on his way home; it was quicker and most of the year he enjoyed the surrounding nature more than the cityscape of Morioh.
Not today though. The summer weather had turned cold, sure sign a storm was sweeping in off the coast, and the wind was threatening to tear apart his carefully coiffed hair that he’d managed to keep together all through his daily beat on the Morioh police force.
He grumbled to himself and reached a hand up to shield his pompadour from the wind and the leaves that traveled with it. He’s stopped a shoplifter today, and his hair had come out unruffled. Now some twigs were gonna make it fall apart? Just his luck.
The park was pretty empty. There was a mom scolding a pair of boys hardly taller than her knees, and a teenager walking her dog. Josuke nodded to them as he passed, focusing on getting home.
It was more by habit then anything that he glanced up the rise to the bench at the edge of the cliff. He always looked, wondered if one day he’d join the parade of couples he always saw there, giggling and leaning in too close to one another.
Today it was just a single figure, hunched over probably against the wind coming off the cliff, skimpy white crop top flapping in the harsh breeze.
Josuke stopped and backed up. He knew that white crop top. He turned, looked again.
Now that he was looking, he knew the wave of messy green hair swept to the side that poked over the familiar set of tense shoulders.
Josuke quirked a brow and glanced around quickly. Was Rohan Kishibe here with someone?
That didn’t seem likely, given Rohan’s pension for moodiness and tendency to favor his own company. Maybe the Mangaka was here to sketch the scenery?
... That didn’t seem right either. Something the way Rohan was sitting didn’t settle right with Josuke and he took a few cautious steps off the path and toward the bench.
There was a sketch book, tumbled off the bench and lying in the grass at Rohan’s feet, which – damned if he ever admitted it – alarmed Josuke.
Rohan treated his sketchbooks like his children, cradling them and babying them around every time Koichi dragged the temperamental artist to one of their meetups. Josuke had never seen him without a pen and book in hand.
It wasn’t that they spent much time together, only when Koichi invited them all over or something. After that bizarre summer of the Kira events, Rohan had reluctantly admitted to Josuke that he’d misjudged him and Josuke had also reluctantly apologized for cheating him, and they’d been on agreeable terms after that.
Not quite friends, but not quite not friends either.
Josuke took a few more steps, circling to the side of the bench, trying to keep quiet in case Rohan really was sketching. He didn’t want to interrupt the artist if he was busy.
He was stopped by a curious pair of piercing green eyes that froze him in place.
He hadn’t realized Heaven’s Door was out, and for a moment he worried the Mangaka might jump up and turn him into a book like he was still trying to do every so often.
Instead the little stand just stared at Josuke from between Rohan’s arms, its own small ones wrapped around one of the artist’s own and blinked at him slowly, small face pinched as though it might cry as it cuddled farther into its user’s embrace.
Josuke stared, concern starting to overcome curiosity. He’d never seen Rohan interact with Heaven’s Door like this. Sure, he’d seen the mangaka fight with his stand, and use Heaven's Door's abilities, but he’d never seen Rohan summon it outside of a stand use.
It was almost like the little stand was trying to comfort his user, wrapped up in Rohan’s arms, face smooshed up against one bicep.
The stand’s green eyes followed Josuke as he stepped carefully closer, ducking his head slightly to catch sight of Rohan’s face.
The artist’s eyes were barely open, his usually carefully applied eyeshadow was streaked down his face, his skin blotchy under his light foundation. Tear tracks shone in the fading sunset from the cliff side, tracing down his chin as his lower lip trembled again and he drew a shaky breath.
Joskue froze.
What now? What he was he supposed to do? Rohan would never forgive him for seeing him like this. He was probably in for a breakneck chase through town if the artist caught him watching.
He was half way through straightening to bolt away when Heaven’s Door unlatched one tiny hand from Rohan’s arm to reach toward him. It was almost like the little stand was gesturing for him to hold him and Josuke paused.
Rohan felt his stand shift in his arms and looked up, mascara clotted on his eyelashes, whites of his eyes blotched red from crying. His normally piercing gaze was broken, and Josuke’s instincts took over.
He knew he was going to regret this tomorrow – hell, maybe this evening even – but whatever it was that made him jump into battle to protect his friends brought him to his knees in front of the prickly artist, concern covering every inch of his expression.
“Rohan?” he breathed, the artist just blinked at him and tried to focus his tear blurred eyes on the man in front of him.
“Josuke? Higashikata?” he managed after a moment, and his usually aloof voice trembled a little.
Heaven’s Door wiggled from between the artist’s arms and held out it’s small hands toward Josuke, who took the stand without a second thought.
“Everything ok?” Josuke tried to make his voice gentle, soft as he could, knowing the artist in front of him didn’t like his weaknesses pointed out.
Heaven’s Door curled into Josuke’s chest and Rohan shuddered and glanced away, another tear rolling down his cheek.
Josuke sighed softly and bent to pick up the sketchbook. “May I sit with you?” he asked softly.
Rohan glanced at him sharply. “Why would you want to?” he muttered, but the acid in the tone wasn’t directed at Josuke.
“Because that’s what friends do.” Josuke replied softly, and settled himself down next to the artist, handing him back his sketchbook.
Rohan clasped it to his chest and took a long, shuddering breath, eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m not much of a friend.” He muttered, and Josuke recognized the self-loathing in the man’s tone this time.
He cocked his head to one side, gently rubbing circles in Heaven’s Door’s back. The little stand clutched him like it was just as upset as Rohan. He knew Crazy Diamond mimicked his own emotions, so he assumed Heaven’s Door did the same for Rohan.
“You’re just… moody.” He replied slowly. “Guess I can be too though, huh?” he shrugged, watching the mangaka take another shaky breath. “You’re not hard to get along with, really.” He confessed after a moment, still rubbing the little stand’s back. “You just don’t like people. Maybe if I pretended to be a lamp you’d like me better.”
Rohan huffed and swallowed, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “Yeah.” He muttered.
They sat quietly for a long moment, Heaven’s Door in Josuke’s lap, Josuke rubbing the little stand’s back, and Rohan sniffling and staring at the ground.
“My father called.”
Josuke blinked. He’d never thought about Rohan having a family before now. The manga artist seemed so independent the idea had never occurred to him. Rohan didn’t have any pictures of his family at his house – or at his old house, Josuke didn’t know where he moved after he moved out of Koichi’s after the whole mountain incident – and he’d never talked about his parents before tonight.
“Oh?” he stared at the other man as Rohan clutched the sketchbook tighter.
“I dunno how he got my number.” Rohan muttered, swallowing back more tears. Josuke frowned.
“He…He had …. To let me know I was officially – legally – removed from the family today.” Rohan’s voice broke and he curled into himself. “They hate me.”
Josuke stared. “Why?” he breathed, grip around Heaven’s Door tightening instinctively.
Rohan half laughed, half sobbed, “Cuz I chose to follow my passion, cuz I’m not a doctor, cuz I’m gay, cuz I’m not the good little boy who grew up and started a law practice and got married and created little babies like they wanted me to do. Take your pick.”
The tears were streaming from his eyes now, his lip trembling.
“Cuz I’m a disappointment who’ll never amount to anything and they don’t want to waste their time on me and I can’t even be a decent friend and all I do is hurt people and I’m a shitty artist.”
“You are not a shitty artist, Rohan.” Josuke cut him off sharply, reaching out to lay one hand on the artist’s shoulder.
Rohan jumped at the physical contact but didn’t pull away. “Yes I am.” He muttered.
“Rohan.” Josuke poked the back of his head lightly, “Do you really think you’d be this successful if you were a bad artist?”
Rohan sniffed and stared at his boots. “No.” he muttered after a long moment.
“Ok.” Josuke slid the hand down and started rubbing circles on Rohan’s thin crop top. “Now then, do you think your fans would be this loyal if you were a bad person?”
“But I’m not a nice person.” Rohan muttered again and Josuke chuckled once at that.
“Maybe not.” He agreed, “But that doesn’t make you a bad one. You helped us so much to catch Kira. A bad person wouldn’t have done that, Rohan.”
The artist nodded slowly and Josuke slid a little closer to him, “And you’re a good friend to Koichi, I know you are.”
Rohan grunted. “But not to you.”
Josuke blinked. “Well.” He replied slowly. “Maybe you could be better, but you’re not going around lighting people on fire any more or pulling pages out so… I think you’ve come a long away. Ok?”
Rohan sniffed.
“And I don’t know what your dad said to you or filled your head with growing up, Rohan, but you are not a disappointment.” Josuke pulled Rohan closer and smiled softly at the artist as he glanced over with tear-soaked eyes. “You’re incredibly driven, and passionate, and intelligent. That’s nothing to be ashamed of, ok?”
Rohan nodded very, very slowly.
“And…if you family won’t accept you because you’re gay then…fuck. You can borrow my dads – Joseph and Caesar need someone else to spoil besides me, and Jotaro and Noriaki won’t accept gifts.” Josuke grinned at the artist, “We’re pretty gay, so you’ll fit right in.”
The corner of Rohan’s lips lifted faintly in a soft smile.
“Can I give you a hug?” Josuke asked impulsively. Rohan nodded even slower than before and Josuke was barely aware of Heaven’s Door fading away as he pulled the artist in and hugged him tight.
Rohan’s nose wrinkled as warm fingers brushed his face, wiping away the left-over tears. “Did you just use Crazy Diamond to fix my makeup?” he asked, his strained voice the only evidence left of his afternoon.
Josuke smirked, patting Rohan’s slim back, “Well, we can’t let the great Kishibe Rohan walk home without looking perfect right?”
Rohan huffed out a very small laugh, and Josuke felt his arms gingerly hug the broader man back.
“Thanks.” The artist muttered.
“Of course.” Josuke smiled.
Rohan seemed content to snuggle into the hug so Josuke just let him stay, gently rubbing his back like he had Heaven’s Door. He realized belatedly Rohan could probably feel everything his stand felt, like he could with Crazy Diamond, and decided to worry about cuddling the stand later.
“You’re warm.” Rohan muttered after a long time.
“Yeah.” Josuke grinned. “Joestar genes, or so I’m told.”
“Mmm.” Rohan sighed into his shoulder after another minuet, his fingers tightening on Josuke’s jacket. “… He called ... told me I was such a disappointment. I could … hear the disgust in his voice. Said it was legal now. I wasn’t part of the family, not to come home ever again. Couldn’t believe he could ever raise such a…” his voice broke and he gulped hard before shaking his head and continuing.
“I … I just… left. I grabbed a sketchbook and ran until I ended up here. It’s…it’s like when he talks at me, I feel like that ten-year-old kid who can’t do anything good enough again…Like I’ll never amount to anything.” he sighed, and Josuke rubbed his back more. “I hate it. I thought -- after Heaven’s Door it was better. I didn’t feel like a failure. I didn’t doubt myself all the time, I thought I could finally get away from what they said… and then when I heard his voice I- it…everything just came back to me.”
Rohan fell silent, breathing hard and Josuke squeezed him gently. The older man seemed to soak up the reassurance and Josuke briefly wondered how many people in Rohan’s life ever bothered to reassure him.
“Rohan? Have you ever thought about therapy?” Josuke asked softly. “It might help…with what your parents made you think about yourself.”
He could feel Rohan twitch under his hands before the green haired man answered, “It’s not that bad. It’s not like…what other people have gone through. People have better shit to do then deal with problems I should be able to get over on my own.”
“Rohan. I went to therapy after Kira…” Josuke met the Mangaka’s eyes as he pushed back from Josuke. It didn’t feel harsh or angry, just like Rohan wanted to look at him. “Jotaro and my dads got me to talk to someone from the Speedwagon Foundation every week for a couple months. It really helped me cope. I still call in a couple times a year.”
Rohan’s fine brows quirked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Josuke shrugged, sliding an arm around the other man’s shoulder as Rohan turned to sit beside him again. “Jotaro and Noriaki talk to someone a couple times a month. Lots of people see therapists to help them cope with stuff.”
Rohan hummed, pulling his knees up to his chin and staring out over the ocean as the last of the sun’s rays turned the water into a fiery lake of gold.
“Maybe I’ll look into it.” He replied at last.
“I think you should.” Josuke nudged his shoulder gently. “It might help you more than you think.”
Rohan glanced at him, his normal pristine makeup restored under his diamond headband, but his eyes still looked sad. “Thank you, Josuke.” He muttered, and Josuke felt warm at the sound of his first name from those lips.
“Anything, Rohan.” He smiled back softly.
The mangaka sighed. “I’m… sorry I’m a shitty friend...I snap at you a lot.”
Josuke shrugged. “I’m starting to think it’s how you show affection.”
Rohan huffed another laugh, “No, I insult people when I’m being affectionate.”
Josuke laughed with him this time, poking the artist in the shoulder, “Please tell me you don’t try to flirt with guys at the gay club by telling them you hate their hair.”
Rohan’s teeth flashed in a half smile, “No, that’s reserved exclusively for you, dumbass.”
Josuke shoved him lightly, grinning, “You’re lucky I don’t feel like fixing your face twice tonight or I’d punch you for that.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rohan rolled his eyes and Josuke smiled at the artist, and Rohan smiled back, the corner of his eyes crinkling just a little.
Josuke hummed softly, warmth blossoming in his chest at the sight of the life in those green eyes again. That was the Rohan he liked to think he could be friends with. The one he saw rarely under the aloof exterior. The one that smiled like a little kid.
He almost reached out to ruffle the mangaka’s hair, but he stopped himself. That was a little too familiar for just friends, even if he had just been cuddling the other’s stand. Come to think of it, Heaven’s Door had been pretty insistent on being held by him. Josuke wasn’t super familiar with Rohan’s stand, but he assumed it was as prickly as the artist himself.
He decided to puzzle on it later as Rohan stood, sketchbook held to his chest and eyes on the darkness spreading around them, “I should get home.” He muttered.
“Yeah...” Josuke agreed softly, standing behind him. “Me too. I gotta feed my cat.”
Rohan glanced at him and seemed like he was going to say something, but a violent shiver repressed that. “Fuck it’s cold.” He muttered, curling into himself to cover as much of his exposed skin from the wind as he could.
Josuke shook his head, “Well you are the one who ran out without a coat, dumbass.” He replied.
Rohan’s eyes narrowed and he turned to shoot back a reply when something thick and warm plopped over his shoulders. He looked down to find Josuke’s leather jacket draped over his shoulders. “Whaa…??” he started.
Josuke shrugged, rubbing his hands over his bare arms in the thin white tee-shirt he wore. “You seem like you need it more than me tonight.”
Rohan just gaped at him for a long moment and then glanced away and muttered, “Thanks.”
“Sure.” Josuke smiled a little and turned to go, “I’ll swing by your place to pick it up in the next couple days.”
Rohan swallowed and turned to watch him go, ignoring Heaven’s Door who materialized next to his leg and tugged on his pants, pointing after Josuke. He couldn’t help admiring the way the other man’s thin shirt blew against him to show off his stature.
“Thanks…Josuke.” He muttered softly, pulling the warm jacket around his shoulders.