Archive of Our Own ^beta

one

Brisk autumn air hung heavy around the parking lot and whistled around Kakyoin’s ankles as he walked back to his car, scarf tight around his neck and fluttering in the breeze. The trees had turned their familiar shades of red and orange, a final dying cry before they turned brittle, and those who had fallen too early crunch to dust beneath the heel of his shoe - the sky was grey, promises of rain in its dark wisps, and he speeds up his pace, not wanting to be caught without an umbrella.

Beside him walks Jotaro, tall and handsome and with his hat pulled down low over his eyes. Cerulean was shielded by the brim and yet he stalked with ample precision to the side of the car, trying to pull open the door and an embarrassed smile quirking his lips when it’s locked. Kakyoin clicks it open and slides into the driver’s seat, turning up the heat and discarding his neckwear to the back, and watches as his partner settles in beside him, knees knocking together in the tight fit of the interior.

They sit in silence, Kakyoin knowing Jotaro could feel his violet gaze on him, and waits patiently for him to make the first move. His heart flutters when the brawler grins, adjusting his hat so it’s on par with his hairline, and god, his eyes are so gorgeous and bright Kakyoin wants to drown in them. He raises his eyebrows, moving his head from side to side, and the redhead can’t help but smile, too, fondness settling deep and warm into his chest.

“Yeah?” He asks, hand resting on the center console, “did you like it?”

“Yes,” Jotaro whispers, the rosy blush on his nose both from the chill of fall and his excitement, “so much. The dolphins! And the starfish, I… I got to touch the stingrays, too…”

“I know,” Kakyoin agrees, tone light, “you saw the sharks as well, right?”

Jotaro hums in agreement, upper body slowly rocking back and forth. “Saw the sharks. I can’t help but worry about them, I hope they’re being taken good care of - their tank looked large enough, I guess, but…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Kakyoin gently interrupts, not wanting this to go south. The scandals about touch tanks enter his mind and yet he’s pretty sure this wouldn’t be a good time to bring up something like that. “I saw some of the employees and they seemed pretty respectful with the animals. I’m sure those sharks are…” He snickers. “Happy as clams.”

Jotaro glances at him in disbelief before shaking his head, chuckling. “That pun was on purpose, wasn’t it.”

“You really sea right through me, don’t you, my star?”

“Stop that,” Jotaro laughs, gently shoving Kakyoin’s shoulder, and the redhead is convinced he could hear that sound for the rest of his life and die a happy man. He was perfect all the time, yes - but there was something special about him now, so positively thrilled, and Kakyoin only wishes that he could stay in this moment forever.

He watches as the other takes his bottom lip between his teeth, biting at it slowly, and brushes his hand against Jotaro’s forearm - it causes his attention to be drawn toward it, blinking up at Kakyoin and pausing mid-chew.

“You can use my hands,” he offers, flexing his fingers, “don’t want your mouth to bleed again.”

Jotaro nods appreciatively and takes it, tapping on each of his knuckles and experimentally flexing his fingers. Kakyoin does his best to keep his joints relaxed, even when Jotaro’s touch brushes his wrist and it tickles , and adores the way his partner’s brow furrows in concentration as he begins to drum his hands against the others. His thumb follows each dip in his skin like it’s something sacred, and he makes a pleased, high-pitched noise when Kakyoin laces their fingers together.

He shakes a little, tapping on his leg with his other hand excitedly, and Kakyoin swears (like he did the time before this, and the time before that) he’s never been more in love.

two

The restaurant was magnificent. No lights were on except for the oil lamps that hang from the ceiling and a single, individual candle on each table, placed on top of gorgeous red tablecloth. The curtains were drawn, only slivers of dusk peeking through the crevices they could not cover, and patrons talked in low whispers as if speaking any louder would be a cardinal sin. Kakyoin was leaning back in his chair, a menu propped open in front of him, and he scanned the list of meals while wincing at the prices.

Finally settling something on more than embarrassing, he shifts forward and folds it closed with a sigh. Jotaro isn’t done finding what he wants and Kakyoin takes a moment to admire his features in the soft sepia tones - his lip is curved downward in a resting frown, eyes twinkling in the candlelight, and his jacket has been shrugged off to show the ripples of his muscles beneath his shirt. Kakyoin props his head up on his chin, smiling gently as he stared, and when Jotaro looks up to see his gaze trained on him he blushes brilliantly, pulling his hat over his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” He asks, suddenly very interested in the hardwood floor beneath them, and Kakyoin chuckles gently.

“You,” he replies, earnest and saccharine, and delights when Jotaro coughs to cover up the squeak that leaves his mouth before he can hold it back.

“You’re a sap,” the brawler replies, but Kakyoin can tell he’s enjoying the praise - he’s pink all the way to his chest, eyes completely hidden by the brim of his cap, and the redhead decides to let up.

“I know,” he remarks, and watches as Jotaro pushes his menu to the corner of the table, having made a decision. “What are you getting?”

He murmurs something but it’s so quiet Kakyoin can’t make it out - and with how entirely embarrassed Jotaro is, he can barely see the other’s mouth to try and read them. “Come again?” He asks, tilting his upper body forward, and holds back a grin when his partner shifts, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Chicken tenders,” he bites out, and Kakyoin laughs - he doesn’t realize that, as he throws his head back (for once throwing his manners to the wind), Jotaro stares at him from beneath the shadow of his hat, entirely enraptured.

“Me too ,” he giggles, and Jotaro snorts, laughing behind his hand as he tries to quiet himself. It was just like them to ruin the atmosphere of such a gorgeous place, but hey, at least they were leaving it in one piece. “What if we get macaroni and cheese and you get the chicken tenders?”

Kakyoin’s smile melts a little when Jotaro sighs, blunt fingernail tracing overlapping patterns into the expensive tablecloth. They sit in silence for a moment, the redhead confused at the quick change in his partner’s demeanor - and then it clicks in his mind, and he reaches his hand out to lace their fingers together.

“I can get it for both of us, yeah?” He offers, and Jotaro nods slowly, bringing Kakyoin’s knuckle to his lips to kiss it in thanks.

The waiter doesn’t bat an eye when the redhead seamlessly orders for the both of them, handing the menus to them with a placid smile and appreciative eyes, and Jotaro delights in the way their hands still remain linked over the table as Kakyoin does the talking for the both of them.

three

This meeting was boring as hell.

Kakyoin knew it was necessary for him to be there, as it was for the Speedwagon Foundation, but he found it increasingly hard to listen to as the men in tightly pressed suits droned on, and on, and on. They were perched atop a large building, the view of the city below akin to a set of toys with how comically small they were from the fifteenth floor - the sky was blue and filled the reflective space with natural light, but even still, he had a headache quickly forming at the front of his skull.

His eyes flick over to Jotaro, who sits parallel to him - he’s not paying attention, either, handsome as ever clad in his white jacket, and he looks at him for a few seconds before the man feels his gaze on him and peers up. His cerulean eyes flash for a moment, and Kakyoin waves in a small gesture only his partner would be able to note - he receives no other indication it was seen than a slight quirk of his lips, and suddenly it’s a challenge; making Jotaro laugh.

Kakyoin lets his hand fall to the table gently, before widening his eyes and shaking his head - he receives an inquisitive expression, Jotaro tipping him off that he was interested, and when he sticks his tongue out, he notices that the brawler is trying to suppress a grin.

The redhead drops his jaw, making a face that could only be described as incredibly aghast, and now he’s getting somewhere - Jotaro’s hand has come up to cover his mouth, hiding the beam that has inevitably split across his face. He furrows his eyebrows as much as he can, moving his eyes back and forth between the speaker and Jotaro, and when he purses his lips he finally breaks - he has to disguise his laughter with a cough, turning his head into his elbow so the rest of the men didn’t see his smile. God, this was Kakyoin’s favorite thing to do.

Just then, however, one of them clears their throat, and Kakyoin jerks his head to see each and every one of them staring at him; some of them disappointed, others confused. The speaker addresses him, fixing him with a piercing look. “Mr. Noriaki Kakyoin, what are you doing?”

He scrambles for anything to go off of. “Uh… Mouth exercises!” He exclaims, and it takes all of his willpower not to crack as he hears Jotaro stifle another loud laugh. “I’m recovering from a very mild case of… lockjaw…”

“Right,” the head says, scraping his nails against the polished wood of the table, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m feeling better already!” Kakyoin amends, anxiously chuckling and face almost as bright as his hair, “thanks for the concern!”

Jotaro collapses into another coughing fit and Kakyoin decides the embarrassment was entirely worth the sound of his partner’s laughter.

four

It all happened so fast.

He’d been organizing files in his office, one after another - it was an exercise he always found particularly relaxing, with just names and numbers to coordinate and no other thinking necessary. He’d been sliding one in - it started with an L - when there had been a series of rapid knocks on his door, frantic in a way that he hadn’t expected, and barely manages out a “come in!” before the knob is already turning and a man steps into his room.

“Mr. Kakyoin,” he pants, eyes wide with something like terror, “something’s gone wrong, please come with us!”

He’s learned to not question it - he could catch his tongue and ask later, when the situation wasn’t so urgent. Typically, when people were sent into a panic, their heart raced far faster than their brain - and he didn’t have time to watch his co-workers flubber for words when there was a matter needing attending to. The man leads him down a familiar road - one he’d taken many times in the morning, that leads to the coffee machines, and he feels panic sink a heavy stone into his stomach when he sees his Jotaro, his handsome, handsome Jotaro, on his knees and clutching his abdomen.

He lets his instincts take over from there - he kneels down, looking for his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. They were glazed over, entirely unfocused and even then they were wide with anguish; he was murmuring something that sounded far too close to Kakyoin’s name and the redhead exhales shakily. On Jotaro’s shirt, staining from his ribs to his thighs was a large, still-warm coffee stain, and an intense feeling of guilt washes over Kakyoin as he gently touches Jotaro’s hands, prying them away from his chest.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, close to his ear and low enough so that only the other could hear, “it’s Kakyoin, my star. I love you. We’re safe. We’re okay.” He repeats these four phrases over and over again as he thumbs at his partner’s knuckles, hands trembling despite the support of Kakyoin’s own. Jotaro’s whimpering, now - his fingers are flexing on their own, and Kakyoin wipes the silent, salty tears trailing paths down Jotaro’s face with his free hand. The redhead looks up for a moment to cast a withering glare to any last stragglers still rubbernecking at the scene - a bear of his teeth made them bow and scatter, and then they were alone, just the two of them.

As usual, his timing was impeccable. Shimmering cyan returns to the world once more, blinking itself back into focus, and Jotaro lets out a loud sob before he catches sight of Kakyoin, halfway to holding him already. He crumbles into his partner, one hand fisting in the fabric of Kakyoin’s shirt while the other cups his face, and the redhead is sure there is no worse feeling of helplessness than the one he was currently chest-deep in.

“Thought I’d lost you,” Jotaro whispers, muffled due to him burying his face into the other’s shoulder, and when Kakyoin goes to wrap his hands around his partner’s waist he shivers at the feeling of the quickly-cooling liquid that soaked Jotaro’s clothes. He understood, now, why he’d been triggered - it felt an awful lot like blood.

“You didn’t,” Kakyoin reassures him, rubbing his back from where he could reach, “you never did. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?”

Kakyoin pulls away, moving Jotaro’s hat from his face. “I swear ,” he breathes, and kisses Jotaro like the warmth of a sunbeam does the Earth after a mighty thunderstorm. 

It is a worshipful thing. It spills over with awe and benevolence and rapture, everything he’d ever felt for this man in this lifetime, all of the ones before this and every one after it pouring into their connection, and when he parts from him, he feels like a man born anew. Jotaro’s staring at him, struck with the same delectation, and only returns back to solid ground when Kakyoin begins to help him up.

“Shall we get you cleaned up?” He asks, letting the larger lean on him - his cane could do a little extra work today. He hands Jotaro a small toy - it’s squishy, blue and in the shape of a dolphin, and his heart flutters when he sees his partner smile and begin to futz with it. “I can take you home.”

“That would be nice,” Jotaro murmurs, “thank you for remembering.” Watching as he pulls his hat down over his eyes, Kakyoin believes that he’s done something right.

five

Jotaro has him pressed against the kitchen counter, kissing him like this life depends on it - he’d gotten home a little later than usual, and once he’d put his keys in the bowl and shucked off his jacket, he’d gone right for Kakyoin. Not that he didn’t mind, no - just that he hadn’t been expecting it, deft hands holding onto his waist as he was fiercely made out with when he, too, had only arrived fifteen minutes prior.

When Jotaro breaks away to take a breath Kakyoin is panting, the tips of his ears hot and bright red, and he’s staring at him like he’s… well, him! - Jotaro always had a way of studying his features as though they were sacred, lost in the freckles on his nose and the flutter of his lashes against his cheekbones, and Kakyoin can’t help but melt under his eye.

“What was that about?” The redhead breathes, eyes locked with Jotaro's face as if it held the answer he was seeking, despite never once having given away what the brawler was thinking.

He turns his head, the way he always did when he was searching for words. There are bags under his eyes and Kakyoin wants to kiss them away. “I wanted to apologize for being…  the way that I am.”

He looked so incredibly guilty, and Kakyoin was having none of that. “Look at me, my star.” He shifts so that his arms are looped around his partner’s neck, gently rubbing where he knew his birthmark was. “Don’t ever apologize for the way you are, okay? You don’t have control over it, you don’t know any different - and I would never be upset with you for that.”

Jotaro has worked up the courage to look at him again, blue eyes swimming with uncertainty, and Kakyoin would like nothing more than to float in that gorgeous sea. “I fell in love with you, didn’t I? Each of your mannerisms, the way you talk about the ocean… I cherish all of it.”

He brings in his partner for a kiss, soft and chaste and filled with nothing but the utmost adoration. “I love you, my star. More than anything.”

Jotaro’s grip is tight around his waist, but Kakyoin doesn’t mind - he settles into it, the feeling of his partner’s fingertips much more comfortable than the granite behind him. The warmth, however, migrates to his face when Jotaro drifts his hands up, cupping his cheeks between his palms and gazing at him reverently. “You know I’m not good with words…”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I love you, too.” Jotaro breathes, so honest Kakyoin’s sure he’s going to shatter.

“I know.”