Archive of Our Own

Okuyasu and I have kind of a weird bond. Not with interests or anything like that-- Interests don’t really count. We’re both into the same type of games and fashion and stuff, neither of us really listen to music much, so we get along as far as that type of stuff. I’m talking more friendship-y type things. Things you can only do with someone you’re close with. Serious talks, or venting, or telling each other secrets and things. We don’t...talk? About tough things. And Jesus Christmas is there a lot of tough shit to talk about. In a nutshell, Mr. Nijimura is fucking Jabba the Hut. But it kinda feels like those things don’t matter. I’ve actually never felt closer to a friend than I have with Okuyasu. I feel like those sayings about your best friend being someone you talk to about anything are kinda skewed. Because Oku and I don’t HAVE to talk about anything.

Don’t get me wrong, talking about your feelings and all that shit is definitely important. I have no problem just being honest, I promise. But, I don’t know, sometimes it’s good when someone just...gets it. You know? You don’t really have to explain yourself to the person you’re talking to. They don’t have to formulate what you need and what they should say to make you feel better. Which is perfect, because Okuyasu doesn’t formulate anything. He probably doesn’t even know what formulate means. He’s a dumbass. At least he’s at least a cool dumbass, though. I don’t know what I would do without him.

Koichi is always trying to cram communication into our heads. It’s a “good skill to have,” I guess. Being able to express, with words and actions, exactly how you’re feeling at all times. But the difference between him and Oku is that Koichi asks all these questions about my feelings and junk when he has an itch that I’m annoyed or upset about something. He encourages me to talk about what’s bothering me even if there’s nothing to talk about. (Although, when looking at photos from before high school, I definitely look like Jotaro with that typical RBF. Yikes. Might be why folks get the wrong idea sometimes). Okuyasu on the other hand will notice that I blinked differently than usual and know, “Man, your mom ate the last stick of string cheese you were saving for lunch today? That fucking sucks bro. Those things are godly. I’ll get you a bun from St. Gentleman’s or something.” He’ll just know. And after that, if I’m having a really bad day (I was so excited for that fucking cheesestick. Of course it was a bad day. Would make a grown man cry) we chill during lunch and laugh, and I lean over, rest my head on his shoulder and not even have to hold myself up for Maximum Laziness™ while I enjoy my new snack. I also just like leaning into him. He’s warm, and his shoulders are all broad and comfortable for my head (and my hair). He surprisingly has a good eye for laundry detergent too, because he always smells really nice, even if it’s a hot day and the soap smell is mixed with sweat. His face is a little bit scratchy sometimes, but I can’t blame him. I’m more jealous that he can grow facial hair in the first place. I think I like the way he hums softly to himself the most, though. His baritone voice is always so raspy and dopey, but I love it. It’s soothing, somehow. His side to me is a little like a safe space. 

I don’t know where I’m going with this. 

Okuyasu is my closest bro and nothing more than that. Yeah, he’s more like my family than my friend, I think. Blood relation doesn’t seem to mean jack anymore, according to my alleged nephew that's over a decade older than me. Don’t ask, because it’s not even worth explaining. But! That brings me back to my point-I don’t have to explain personal shit to Oku. He just gets it. I probably realized this from being a mutual bro and comforting him in return. Okuyasu has just of a fucked family tree as I do, so there’s no need for empathy. Dude, your dad has hella wrinkles and kinda smells like eggs too? Bro, same.

We’re lucky that we’re neighbors. The Nijimura residence might be large, but it’s pretty vacant. And also in ruins, kinda, which is totally definitely not my fault at all whatsoever. Completely out of my hands. Yup. I think it gets cold at night, and I don’t think Okuyasu has a comfortable bed, or snacks to sneak at midnight, and all the things that come with having a nice home, basically. My bedroom is on the first story of my own house, and it’s just my mom and I, so if the guy ever needs it all he has to do is sound that stupid knock on my window so I can come and usher him in. Welcome to paradise. We’ve got videogames, big t-shirts, string-cheese sometimes, plenty of hair products, and a big comfy bed to sleep and masturbate in. That last part is VIP only though. Sorry, only people with cool hair can participate. I do make an exception for Okuyasu, however, because my mom’s bed is off limits (“I called her a milf ONE TIME”) and my late gramps’ bed is like concrete. So Okuyasu can sleep in mine all he wants. Only sleep...most of the time. Probably. I’m gonna stop. 

So, he does his cute little knock, and no matter the time of day, I’ll get up and open the window for my friend.

-

“Oiiiiiii buddy!!” he chimes, already stretching his lanky leg up to the windowsill. I step aside, keeping one hand on the rim of the window, anxious to shut it as soon as Okuyasu gets settled in. It’s only about 11 pm, but the bugs are out and bug bites are anything but sexy or fashionable. 

“Hey. Staying the night?” I yawn.

“Ayup. Dad’s already slumped asleep n’ I really wanted to see that cute little pink dude again.” Ugh. He’s here to play smash. I suck at that game. At least he’s worse than me. He brushes himself off and throws his jacket and shoes on the floor near the window. It’s not a door, and there’s no coat rack, so wherever he wants to throw shit is fine I guess. 

“You mean Kirby. I think the game cartridge is still in the Nintendo. Just turn it on and you should be good.” I pick up his jacket and lay it over the chair next to my schoolwork desk. It’s warm. 

“Awwwww hell yes,” he says, delightfully approaching the box TV and picking up a controller. The triumphant menu music starts to blare through the speakers and broken VHS port, to which he jumps and immediately reaches to assault the ‘lower volume’ button on the TV. I flinch, too, remembering my mom’s threat of kicking me into next month if we wake her up again. Whatever that means.

He follows the directions on the screen, looking down at the controller every time he’s instructed to press something, just to make sure his finger is on the right button. His brain is always too close to combusting whenever he tries to play shit with a controller that has more than one button. He makes it to the character selection screen and looks over at me. I’m sitting next to him on the floor with my legs crossed.

“Are you gonna grab a controller?” 

I lean backward flump onto my back, and I let out a really dramatic groan. This earns a frown and a whiny, “Joooooosukeeeeeeeeeee broooooooooooooooo!!!!” I shut my eyes tight and pry them back open. I was already comfortable in my bed before he got here, and my hair was already starting to fall back to its natural state, which happened to be inconveniently in my face. Looking at a tv screen is gonna suck, but I’ll do it for him. I’m happy he’s here.

“Fine. Hand me the one over there,” I ask, still on my back and preparing to lazily sit up when he sets the controller on my chest. Okuyasu has already selected his go-to, Kirby, so I don’t waste any more time and just pick Donkey Kong. The stage starts to load, and I try to brush the stray hairs in my face away with my hand. There’s still a lot of product gunked in it. I should’ve showered before bed. Whatever.  

The narrator counts down through the speakers, and the moment he shouts his infamous, “GO!” Okuyasu immediately starts mashing the two buttons he knows how to use, and Kirby starts flying up the screen. His mouth widens to a grin as his energy builds. I’m too focused on his face at the beginning of the round, and he almost touches me in-game. Right. I can’t lose to him. Then I’d be the idiot . I flick my fingers around the controller, moving DK into the air and absolutely pummeling Okuyasu off the screen with just a few hits. There we go. 

Okuyasu scoffs and shifts onto his knees, as if putting more power into his IRL stance is gonna make him better at the game. It makes me giggle. DK practically stands idly as Kirby floats and flounts over to him, zero defense, until Kirby gets just close enough to suffer the combo moves I happened to discover a few days ago while mindlessly playing after school. 

“How are you so good at this game???” Okuyasu whines, watching his lives slowly decrease. The grunts and “kyaaaaaaa!!!!”’s from the game serenade the conversation, making it all the more ego-boosting to me.

“I’m not, that’s the thing,” I laugh, sitting calmly to myself with my controller in my lap. “Why do you even like this game?” Okuyasu is shifting between knees, moving his body with the game as if leaning a certain direction is going to move Kirby to his death even faster.

“I just love how cute and round this little guy is. Look at him fly around, dude!!” He starts to lean into me, eyes fixated on the screen and tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. His arm presses into mine, and his elbow grazes my chest. All he’s wearing is the black wife beater he keeps on under his jacket in the summer. I don’t even think he realizes how close he is. For some reason, that same detergent smell and his warm, bare shoulders that usually bring me peace start to make me feel uneasy. My hands form a stiff grip on the controller and my heart starts to race. My eyes peel away from the screen, and a piece of hair falls back into my face. I don’t notice it at first, because my eyes are glued to the thin layer of sweat on Okuyasu’s evenly tanned neck. Before I know it, Donkey Kong is writhing in pain and flying off the screen as Okuyasu kneels upright again, celebrating. I snap out of it. Shit. Well, I’ve still got two lives left. He’s on his last limb. You’re toast, “little guy.”  I puff air up at my hair and blow it out of my eyes. It’s go-time.

A few button mashes and combos later, the narrator shouts, “GAME!” leaving DK alive and well on the stage and Kirby defeated, nowhere to be seen. Okuyasu drops his controller and slumps, as if he didn’t expect that I would crush him like I usually do. It still boosts my ego, though, and I smirk.

“This sucks. Let’s play a different game,” he says. Sore loser. I make sure to tell him that. 

“Nah. It’s been a minute since I had dinner, and if you’re staying, I wanna eat something if I’m gonna be awake.” I stand up and stretch, secretly relieved that my eyes can rest. I brush the wisps of hair out of my face again. Maybe I need a hair-tie? Do I even have one of those lying around? I lick my thumb and try to slick it back, and it stays. Okuyasu rolls over and looks at me, upside down, with a curious look on his face.

“....Leftover Higashikata cuisine??” He puckers his lips and raises his eyebrows at me. I admire him for a moment, then roll my eyes. 

“Sorry, you gotta wait until breakfast for that. I’m just grabbing a snack.” I turn the doorknob silently before slowly opening the entire door, starting into the dark hallway towards the kitchen. My mouth literally starts to water at the thought of the horseradish wasabi peas sitting in the cupboard. I hear Okuyasu shifting to get up on his feet and follow me. I’m creeping gingerly through the hall, making sure to stay on my toes and keep an arm against the wall so I don’t trip. My cat-like stalking is going alright until I’m greeted by a loud creak from one of the floorboards--a creak that I’m positive wasn’t there before, because I’m confident I know every floorboard like the back of my hand. I jolt and stumble backwards. My mom’s bedroom door is open and I begin to fear for my dear life. Higashikata Tomoko does not mess around with beauty sleep. Unknowingly following behind me, Okuyasu doesn’t react in time and crashes into my back, creating even more of a ruckus, clumsily trying to grab the wall and my arms, foot pads thumping on the hardwood. I wince, turning my head around to meet eyes with him. I don’t hear any rustling from my mom. I pause to listen closer, and it remains silent. We’re in the clear. His eyes, while barely visible in the dark, I can tell are wide open. There’s a little reflection of my bedroom light in his eyes. He’s petrified. Whether it’s of me or the alleged milf, I’m not sure, but I can’t help but flash a relieved smile at him, placing a finger against my lip. We both snicker and continue down the hallway. Okuyasu makes sure to take a long stride over the danger zone on the floor. 

The fluorescent lights of the kitchen are painful, but so welcoming. The world outside the windows behind the sink is pitch black. We don’t live in the wealthier part of Morioh. Even though downtown is only a few blocks away, there’s still not much light pollution in the average neighborhoods. You can usually see some of the colorful stars and the fireflies roaming outside in the summertime. The night breeze is beautiful, but the cicadas are loud, so whether or not the windows are open depends on the day. Besides, when you and your mother are a couple of penny pinchers, the windows are usually open during the day as opposed to having the AC blasting. So I hear enough of the cicadas every day anyway. 

I make a beeline to the cupboard for those godly delicious wasabi peas. Part of me kinda wants them just because I know Okuyasu doesn’t care for spicy shit, and I wouldn’t have to share, but Okuyasu has been here enough times to make himself at home and fend for himself. He sifts through the refrigerator, and turns to observe what I had grabbed from the cupboard, hanging on the white fridge door. He pouts his lips to the side of his face, looking apathetic, and decides to continue the search for his own snack. While he digs through the food like a rodent, I flop into a kitchen chair, squeaking the wooden legs on the floor with the force of my body, and open up my wasabi peas while I wait. I pop one in my mouth and my tastebuds ignite. God they’re so fucking good. Oku joins me with a rolled up bag half-filled with generic potato chips, and we telepathically decide to make our way back to my bedroom. 

A few avoided floorboards later I’m on my back on top of my bed comforter, wasabi peas in the middle of my chest, staring at the ceiling. I can see the bag out of the corner of my eyes, rising and falling with my breaths, trying to be careful not to spill them. Okuyasu is sitting on the other side of the bed with his back towards the wall, spaced out, looking at posters and the other miscellaneous things littering the room. He’s mindlessly placing potato chips into his mouth. I have no idea how one can eat something so loud. My eyes wander to his face. There are little bits of salt and crumbs in the corners of his mouth, and I notice his lips are a little greasy. They’re a little pinker, too. The salt must be irritating them. They look awfully soft, too.

“Oi. Josuke. Are you feeling alright, dude? I can’t really read you. You’re acting real weird.”

The rasp of Okuyasu’s voice cutting through the ambient sounds of chewing startles me and I jolt, which only raises his concern even more. When I make eye contact, he’s got a concerned look on his face. I lick the spice off my lips and seal the bag back up by pressing it into my chest with my thumb. 

“I mean, you’re the one that popped in so late. Kinda thought you were the one feeling down. Figured you just wanted to get away for a bit and relax.” I start to sit up, watching little crumbs roll down my chest like snowballs on a mountain. I scrunch my nose a little in disgust. I use one hand to dust myself off while I bite what’s left of the salt out from under my fingernails on the other hand. 

“‘S hard to relax with my bro when he’s all quiet and spacy. Is something bothering you?” 

Huh. Usually he can tell what I’m thinking.

“...Do I need an excuse to come to your house, Josuke?”

Oh boy. He definitely can’t tell. I feel my chest tighten at the twinge of hurt in his voice. I immediately try to soothe his ruffled feathers.

“Oh no no no!! Dude, Okuyasu, you can always come by. I love being with you.” It’s hard to tell with his caramel, sepia skin, but I swear I see color airbrush his face and ears when I say that. “I don’t...really know what’s up with me today. I might just be exhausted.” My eye contact breaks, and I grab one of my pillows and hold it to my chest with my knees. My chin rests on the worn white cotton and my eyes subconsciously close with it. Okuyasu tilts his head and sighs comfortably. He rolls the now-empty bag of chips up into a loud crinkly ball and attempts to shoot it into the trash can across the room. He huffs. I didn’t see, but I know he missed, and I snort in response. I feel the mattress move under me as he waddles off the bed and over to redirect the garbage that went off course into the bin. 

“Wanna just head to sleep, then? S’ only midnight but if you’re tired I don’t care.” I take a calm deep breath in and nod into my pillow. The moment he mentioned sleep I became 10000x sleepier than I was 2 seconds before. Okuyasu hums in agreement and goes to hit the light switch. I open my eyes, but I’m met with the surprise of him dorkily stretching his whole body, leaning back and squeezing a tense little whine out of his vocal chords. His tank rides up his torso, and my throat closes at the sight of his stomach and his bony hips. The lights go out just as I’m sent into a coughing fit. What the hell is wrong with me right now? 

“WOAH, woah woah woah, JoJo are you good? No dying on me man-” he panics. It’s dark, but I feel his aura get closer while he waves his hands in front of himself to find me and the bed. He feels around for an empty space on the mattress to sit, and then uses one hand to start rubbing my back. I can tell when his face gets close to mine, because I feel his breath on the side of my neck. That doesn’t help. My heart is thumping. It’s just the wasabi.

“It’s….cool...wa..wasabi,” I strain, forcing words through wheezes and pointing at my throat as if he could see. He hums as I continue to cough, trying to figure out why I can’t erase the image of Okuyasu’s torso from my mind. I guess I am a little weird today. 

When the coughing turns to just a little tickle in my throat, he removes his hand from my back and we crawl under my one blanket on the bed. He actually gets settled on the side of the bed that I usually sleep on. It’s near the wall, and it’s cooler. There’s even an indent in the mattress from my body weight over there, which probably makes it even more comfortable. For some reason I’ve never stopped him from sleeping in my spot. He takes it every time, unknowingly. 

“I don’t know, man. I guess I am on edge, now that I think about it,” I admit. I plant my head in my hands, looking up at the dark ceiling once more. Okuyasu hums in response. 

“What about?”

I turn my head, and I can see he’s laying on his side, head propped up on his hand and looking at me, listening intently. My heart flutters just a little, but I try to ignore it. I swallow and look back up at the ceiling. 

“My da- ah, Mr. Joestar and I have been talking the last few days. He wanted a little help with the baby. Jotaro has been out researching stuff on the beaches for school, I guess. I didn’t even know he was studying.” I rub my legs together under the covers, letting out nervous laughs when I pause. “I guess...technically that little baby is my sister, so I didn’t feel very right saying no to his offer.” My mind starts to race through everything Joseph and I talked about while I’ve been keeping him company, and how lots of those things are secrets from my mom, no matter how significant they are. I look at Okuyasu again, and he doesn’t give me any vocal response. He’s just listening. It’s almost awkward. I try to look at him out of the corner of my eye. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen you shut your mouth for.”

He grins and shoves my shoulder. “Fuck off, dude. Don’t change the subject. C’mon.” I already feel a bit better at the sound of us snickering in the silence. I decide to continue.

“So, I’ve actually got two sisters. One of them is that baby, so she’s adopted. I also have a half sister named Holly.” Okuyasu raises his eyebrows, almost in excitement for me. I smile awkwardly, realizing he doesn’t understand what that means. “Holly is Jotaro’s mom.” He grits his teeth in a “yeesh” manner, and I laugh. “Yeah, she’s in her late 50’s now. She lives in Japan, too, actually. A bit far from Morioh, though. She moved here from the U.S. where she grew up when she married a Japanese guy, so she’s been kind of far from family for a while.” She doesn’t see her father much anymore , is what I’m trying to express. The thought doesn’t bother me much until I remember how the old man talked about her, and held and tickled the baby he had in his frail arms as he reminisced. He really loves his family. He misses her. It was clear to see. I attempted to rattle off all the names he taught me, because I could feel that Oku wanted to know.

“So, my blood grandpa, Mr. Joestar’s dad, was a British pilot in World War I, and he died when Joseph was little. His name was George Joestar...actually, he was George Joestar II, but I’ll get to that,” I reassure, holding my hand out in front of me and pulling out one finger to represent the first relative. I notice a little bit of nervousness in Okuyasu’s eyes. “I know, it’s already confusing. I’m overwhelmed, too, I promise you.” I proceed up the family tree. “So, apparently that means I’m British, not American. Joseph’s mom, thus my Grandma, was also most likely British, and her name was Elizabeth,” I state, raising another finger. 

“Most likel-?” Okuyasu interrupts, but I shush him before I lose my train of thought.

“So I guess when George ‘Two’ died in the services, it had to do with all the Dio shit that the adults are always talking about, not the war. So Elizabeth got really pissed, and killed the guys that were involved.” We both laugh, a little astonished at the quick escalation. “So she kind of...ditched Joseph early on, too. To get out of the legal repercussions. Apparently it was to protect him. So, Joseph essentially had no parents. He didn’t meet his real mother until he was 19. His mother figure growing up was his grandma and my great grandma, Erina.” I start talking with the movement of my hands, putting up more and more fingers. “So, Grandma Erina, who gave birth to George, saved Elizabeth, who was an infant, from a shipwreck that the three were on. Elizabeth’s blood mom had died by then, so no one really knows a thing about her. Erina’s husband, my great grandpa, Jonathan Joestar, died in that shipwreck as well after he and Erina got married. He made sure Erina and the two babies made it out safely. So George grew up without a father, too. Elizabeth was adopted off but eventually married George and they had Joseph.” Okuyasu shakes his head like all that information went in one ear and out the other, so I snort awkwardly and nod to confirm that I’m serious. “And I guess none of that would’ve happened if it weren’t for Jonathan and his family situation when he was growing up. Jonathan’s dad, George I, raised Jonathan by himself after, guess what, his wife Mary died in a carriage accident when Jonathan was a baby. Again, dead parent figure. Some looters tried to take advantage of them and George ‘One’ mistook it for help, so he insisted that he owed them. Also, George was a nobleman under British royalty, so the Joestar family was filthy fucking rich. No idea where that money is yet,” I laugh, and Okuyasu empathizes, shrugging his shoulders and nodding. “So those looters gave birth to that Dio guy, whom of which secretly killed his fucking dad , and he was brought into the Joestar house. Essentially for the rest of his life then on, Jonathan was preventing his ignorant dad from getting killed by Dio so Dio could inherit the money. Apparently it got so traumatic that Dio turned into a vampire or something and killed a bunch of people and Jonathan died on the burning ship holding Dio’s severed head. But in the 80’s Dio took Jonathan’s body and was super shitty again, so that’s when Jotaro went and killed him.” 

All Okuyasu can do is blink. Only a slightly weird turn of events at the end.

“ ‘M kinda ata loss for words. That’s so fucking shitty,” Okuyasu exclaims, and I nod eagerly. I’m glad I’m explaining this all correctly. “But how are you so sure ‘s not all nonsense and that th’ old man hasn’t gone stupid?” 

I think about that for a moment, but then remember that the history wasn’t all that Mr. Joestar showed me.

“No no. Actually...I kind of believe him. Because he did something kinda magical. It was really small because the man has zero strength these days, but I saw it.” I hold my hands out as if I’m holding a cup of water. “He asked me if I’ve ever been able to make something like electricity with just my mind.”

Okuyasu adopts a strange look of confusion. We’ve both since sat up, facing each other with only the streetlight outside to illuminate us, holding pillows and sprawling out our legs. “So...like a stand?” I purse my lips.

“Mmm...kinda? He called it ‘hamon’. And he wanted to see if it was in my blood.” His eyes widen as his interest grows even larger. I shift my position, nodding excitedly. I’m at his side, now, and our legs are touching. It’s nice. “Yeah dude, I know. So, he wanted to see if I had inherited it like he did. His daughter and Jotaro both don’t have it, but I’m still closely blood related.” I flipped my imaginary cup upside down. “He wanted me to try and hold a cup of water upside down without letting the water fall or hit the floor.” Okuyasu leans in for closer observation of my game of pretend with my extended hand. I shift my weight so that he can see, and accidentally place my other hand onto his on the bed. We both freeze. Neither of us move. My heart starts to race again. For some reason, I really don’t want to move my hand. I decide to just pretend it’s not there and keep going. This next part is gonna be ironic. I can’t breathe at all right now.

“I really didn’t wanna spill water everywhere in case I didn’t have it, and obviously at first I thought he had gone senile too, so I didn’t try. Instead he just told me to focus on my breathing and try to put energy into the water - whatever that means.” I threw my imaginary cup. “I couldn’t do it, so I don’t think I can use 'hamon' or whatever it’s called, but dude. I know it’s real. I saw him, I swear.” Okuyasu gives me an ‘okay okay okay’ and reassures me that he believes me. 

“You’re a lot smarter than I am, and you’re my guy, so I obviously trust you, don’t worry,” he says. There’s a warmth in my chest. My guy.

“He wanted to show me, so I gave him the glass, and I saw it. There were little bolts of light spinning around in the water from his fingers. They were tiny, but they were there!!” I move my fingers, trying to reenact what I had seen. I look at Okuyasu in the eyes excitedly, grinning. “He flipped it! The water stayed in the cup!! It was wicked!!” Oku smiles back at me, astonished.

“It didn’t fall?? That’s amazing Josuke! Totally not a little... boring...?” I falter.

“Well.. it only stayed for like, 2 seconds.” I avert my eyes sheepishly. “But then he went into a coughing fit because he’s an old coot, and water fell and splattered everywhere. I didn’t mind cleaning it all up though. We had to put more makeup on the baby, too, because the face paint started to melt away,” I laugh. “My old man is kind of a ditz, apparently.”

“So we’ve learned where you get it from.” (I ‘PSSH’, “You've got a lot of nerve calling me a ditz when you’re a dumbass”).“It sounds fun as hell, dude,” he says, leaning back into the wall. He looks relieved. “I don’t know why that got you n’ a slump before, though. Your family sounds awesome.” 

Oh. I forgot. I was getting so into all the cool stuff that it completely slipped my mind. It hits me like a wall the moment Okuyasu finishes speaking, and I think he notices, because his expression changes to concern. 

“That’s...not all that he told me. I think he told me something I wasn’t supposed to know.” I can’t tell if the negative emotions in my chest are of longing or of anger. Okuyasu is all ears, and I realize maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea to tell other people. 

But fuck, I’m not keeping anything from this guy. I poke my pointer finger into his chest and stare into his eyes.

“You have to promise me you will not tell anyone, okay? You promise you’re at full attention? You can be a loudmouth sometimes, but you absolutely can’t be that right now. This is really really sensitive.” 

He laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Guilty,” he mutters. “But dude, I understand, just tell me the deets!! ‘M dying over here with you hyping it all up!” 

“I’m really serious Okuyasu, we’d be in some serious trouble if anyone else found out.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone, Josuke.”

“I could seriously get my ass beat, even if it ends up being less important than I think it is.”

“Joooosukeee c’monnnnn-”

“Absolutely no one.”

“Got it. S’ locked in my brain.”

“Good. Promise?”

He looks me in the eyes, but I’m startled when he moves his other hand, the one that my hand has been resting on. He flips it so his palm is facing mine, and he squeezes my hand in reassurance. His hand is a little rough, like sandpaper, and the way he holds mine is a little awkward, but I let him, as it’s his way of reminding me that he cares. 

“I promise.”

I realize I’ve been holding my breath, so I try to let it out slowly and lean back against the wall. I look at the ceiling again and squeeze his hand in return. 

“In the U.S., Jotaro has a daughter. I think she’s in grade school right now.” It’s good Okuyasu is leaning back when I speak, because I assume he could’ve hit his head on the wall and gotten whiplash if he wasn’t. My lips remain pursed. It’s silent for a moment.

“Well...d’see know?” I’m averting my eyes. There’s a lot of emotion welling up in my chest.

“Yeah...Yeah, he does,” I say, chewing on my lip. “I don’t like it.”

“What, that he’s got a kid?” I shake my head. 

“No, that he’s not with her right now. I hate that he’s not with her right now.” Oku ‘huh’s, clearly trying to process this new information. There seems to be a trend of awkward pauses between phrases in the conversation.

“Ah...I could be wrong, but Jotaro’s s’only in Morioh until stuff clears up, right? ‘S in the hotel. Ain’t ya say he’s studying, too? It’s probably temporary,” he says. I know that he can see that I’m really uncomfortable with the thought, and I enjoy the way he comforts me, but I frown. It’s not like that.

“No. It’s not like that. He hasn’t seen her since she was a baby. Mr. Joestar doesn’t see her either.”

The silence is suffocating and awkward. The anger in my chest starts to overflow though, so I cut the silence like a knife after I acknowledge that Okuyasu is gonna let me speak uninterrupted. My eyebrows furrow and my lip starts to hurt from all the chewing, so I guess I’ve gotta spill the entire can of beans. 

“I don’t think Mr. Joestar meant to tell me, because afterward he seemed worried, and he made sure to let me know that I’m not allowed to bring it up to Jotaro. It’s just too sensitive.” I can’t meet eyes with Okuyasu. “I don’t even know the reason why Jotaro stays away.” Okuyasu’s hand is being crushed in my grip. He lets go, and I think that’s the end of it until he pulls me next to him with his arm. I can’t see his face, but the back of my head is cradled in his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat. It’s a little erratic, too. Oh don’t you go and start crying on me now, dude.

My organs are all doing frontflips at different times and my face is hot . And I mean burning. My hair is everywhere and my eyes are sleepy. It’s a gift that the lights are off and he can’t see my face, because I look like a flustered mess. ...Fuck. Ignore it ignore it ignore it igno-

“And it.. F-fucking bothers me a lot that he just chooses to stay away from his kid. Like, I had just gotten done hearing about all these family stories where everyone is dying tragically and my relatives are growing up without parent figures, and honestly? It made me feel a little better about not having a dad my whole life. Or having to deal with a parent that’s mourning their loss like, every day of their life. You know?” I feel Okuyasu nod his head. He understands. He definitely understands. “And my dad...whatever. I get it. I mean I don’t know why he’d cheat on his wife of 40 years, that I don’t understand, but he didn’t KNOW I even existed. And I feel like if he did, he would’ve been there. You should’ve seen the way that man talked about his daughter. He loves her a shit ton and his daughter probably grew up with all that. He probably looked back on all his family history and made sure that he was there for his kid for a change, and fucking-” Shit. I dive way deeper into my thoughts than I expected to. Tears start to well in my eyes. “L-like, you get it too, don’t you? Your dad only really appeared recently. He hasn’t been there either. But it’s no one’s fault. We’re one in the same, right?” The weight of my heart almost keeps me down, but I peel myself up and look at him. He’s crying, obviously. Emotional bastard. I switch into autopilot and pretend like the tears on my face aren’t there.

“Oh, dude, c-come on now.. D-don’t cry.” We switch roles and I hold his whimpery, snotty face in my arm. I can’t help but laugh a little through my muggy throat. What a mess. 

“Y-Yo-You’re c- you’r-c-c-crying t-too.” My shirt is already wet from his tears. I’m used to this, though. I can count on Okuyasu to cry for me anytime. I sniffle and continue, trying to stay a bit more upbeat, even though my feelings aren’t any different.

“It’s not anyone's fault in your family or in mine that we grew up without parents. I only learned about all this in the last few days. Jotaro has known the family history his whole damn life . And he just..fucking- he pretends his own daughter doesn’t exist. A-And he can’t even bother to try and give an excuse for why he chooses not to be her d-dad because he refuses to t-talk about it.” I think I’m fine, then more tears roll down my face, and I struggle to keep a straight face. “God I w-wanna f-fucking punch him for that. He doesn’t get it.” My voice is so shaky. Have I ever cried about something to Okuyasu? I cough up some tears and speak clearly for just a moment. “It sucks not having a dad. He fucking pisses me off. I can’t even be around him for 2 minutes knowing what I know now. I just wanna kick his ass and tell him to go home already. Fuck.” 

There’s not much more to say at that point. Okuyasu and I sit in the dark, leaning on each other, weeping and muttering curses and wiping salty tears on our arms. The curtains by the window are still, and the world on the other side of the glass is soft, but active. There’s a siren in the distance. A choir of crickets can be heard if you stop to listen. The street lamp is dim and dull. The wind is gentle, and very occasionally tree branches will wave and knock on the window, too. Just like he does. Maybe everything in the world has something that hurts them, after all. We’re not in it alone. It’s reliving, actually. Having said everything that I did.

Okuyasu and I eventually make it back to our sleeping positions. Separated in our own bubbles again. He faces my back in the middle of the bed. I’m looking around the room. It’s quiet. I think about everything that had just happened. The way my eyes sting a bit, the stories I was able to tell. I think a lot about how much I liked sitting so close to Okuyasu. And the way I’d smile whenever he touched me. And how my heart would skip when I’d meet his eyes. Fuck.

My mind trickles back to that conversation I had with Koichi about communication.

-

“You can’t just assume everyone is going to know how you feel, Josuke. It’s okay to talk about it. Communication is a good skill to have.”

Koichi and I sit up against the concrete wall of the school. Okuyasu is up walking somewhere. I can’t remember where he’s at. I’ve heard this all before. I don’t even bother to swallow my mouthful of rice before I respond.

“I haf no pwobem tawing abou schuff-” I hold my hand near my mouth in case I spit any rice on accident. I swallow. “I just don’t have anything to talk about right now.” Koichi rolls his eyes.

“Come on, now. Maybe you’re worse than I thought. You’ve completely tucked it all away, haven’t you?” he puts a spoonful of food in his mouth. I kind of wish I had his lunch. It looks delicious. 

“I’m fine and dandy, actually. I thought you’d know that if I was pissed I’d probably be off punching whoever I’m pissed at.” My eyes are shut and I’m waving my hand, dismissing Koichi’s accusations. 

“Oh I know you would be, you delinquent.” I snort in response. “But I’m not talking about being upset. I’m talking about Okuyasu.” 

I raise one eyebrow. I secretly get a bit tense. My feelings about Okuyasu? “What’s got you suspicious about Okuyasu?” Koichi groans. Damn. I’m gonna lose this battle.

“Quit it already, I know you like him!” I shut my eyes tight. I knew this topic was eventually gonna come up, but I’ve played dumb this whole time. “You probably haven’t even admitted that to yourself, have you?” I wince, and I pretend my face isn’t starting to burn. 

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“Oh yes there is. You like him like how I like Yukako.”

I lean over to him, because our voices are getting a bit louder. Don't know what I'd do if I found out someone was eavesdropping. I think that maybe getting in his face will help.

“If it’s ~soo~ important for me to talk about how I feel, and I haven’t said anything, how are you so sure that I like him? HUH?” I huff in his face. Koichi snickers. Somehow, he feels way bigger than me. 

“Because. I’m not stupid. Trust me, you’re really bad at keeping your cool. I can see it.” All I can do is turn my head sheepishly and pull my legs up to my chest. I internally beg Okuyasu to get back quickly so the conversation can end. 

“...so what? You wanna tease me or something? I get it, it’s gay. It’s stupid.” Koichi’s sneer turns into empathy. He looks a lot like the puppies that belong to the main characters in the movies. The character vents and the dogs just look with soft, round eyes and a kind expression. He leans over me to try and look me eye to eye as he pats my back. 

“No, no. I’m not gonna do that. I won’t tell him, either. I don’t want you to be worried. I’m just bringing it up because I think you should tell him.” My body tenses and I clench my fist nervously at the thought.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” He jumps. Suddenly I’m bigger again. He sighs and motions at me to tone myself down.

“Because I think it would finally get you to relax. Also, it’s frustrating to watch you pine over him and argue with yourself,” he laughs. I let those words soak in, and I bury my head in my knees. My stomach churns, and I suddenly lose my appetite. I let out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think it’s a very good idea. I don’t think talking can solve all the world’s problems.” Koichi frowns, and leans back against the wall. He sighs, accepting defeat. He’s not a confrontational guy. 

“If you say so. As long as you know what I said. I still think you should talk about how you feel, though. He’s never gonna know unless you tell him.” Maybe that’s what I’m aiming for, yeah?

I see Okuyasu walk around one of the corners of the building with a plastic convenience store bag swaying with his stride as he holds it in his hand. He’s coming back. I stuff my mouth with more of my food. I accidentally spit some rice on accident, this time.

“Yegh ok Ghoichi thath’s chhool bu’ vere’s nofing tu tak abou’. En’ uf schory.” I gulp and point at his lunch box. He tightens the corners of his mouth at me.“The more chit chat, the more that delicious lunch I’m envious of goes to waste, so you better fucking savor it and finish eating. Byeeee-”

-

I can barely keep my eyes open. It’s hot with two people under the same blanket, so I shift my feet more than a few times trying to find colder spots on the mattress, and I flip the pillow I’m resting my head on. I feel like I’ve been half asleep for a while now, and I’m afraid I’m gonna go the whole night without rest. I utter a low groan, reaching my arm behind me.

“...Oku..yasu? Oi, are you awake?” I practically yawn mid-sentence, and my throat is garbled with old salt and tears. He doesn’t give me a response until my alien hand finds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. He grumbles and shifts around behind me. I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t be waking him up. “Oi...Okuyasu do you know what time it is?” I whisper. I strain my neck trying to make sure he hears me, so I turn around and face him instead. I’m barely awake myself. 

Okuyasu stretches, rolls around in place and mutters, “Why w’ I know?” in a molasses-like voice. He peels his eyes open, and-

Suddenly, I realize how close we are. I freeze, and he hitches his breath when he gets the same idea. I feel it on my collarbone. I know I can’t speak, but I try to anyway. The only thing I can manage to get out of my dumbass sleep-drunk mouth is, “...uhh…,” and Okuyasu averts his eyes in a panic. He starts to put space between us.

“S-sorry, I didn’t reali-”

“-No!” 

Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid

We meet eyes again, and now we’re both on edge. 

“N-no?” he squeaks. Christ. Koichi was right. I’m a mess. 

I splutter, realizing I had reached out to stop him. My fingertips gripped into his stiff shoulder. His eyes darted from my hand to my scribbled up face. 

“I-I..” I grit my teeth. 

You know what? No way. Koichi doesn’t know shit. I don’t need to say shit about how I feel. I can show him.

I lift my hand from his shoulder and I guide it to his jawline. It shakes the whole way there, which by the way, feels a million times bigger than the few centimeters that it actually is. His lips are parted, and my eyes are glued to them. Similar to how people say that it's impossible to tear your eyes away from disasters. Except I'm causing the disaster. Shit. I’m surprised my lip isn’t bleeding from all the nervous biting. 

“J-Josuke? Oi, are you alright?”

My heart runs a 5k. I tremble for a few quiet seconds more.

I chicken out. I shut my eyes and try to shake the nerves out of my head. It doesn't work.

“...y-yeah. I’m alright. I just had kind of a freaky dream.” I get out of the situation and roll onto my back. “It’s a little embarrassing. I think I just needed to see my...bro. Yeah.” Okuyasu puts a hand on his face, where mine sat a few moments before. I have no idea what gears are turning in his head.

“You’re all good, dude. Was it the one where all the reptiles crawled around your room like spiders?” He’s got no judgement in his voice. He’s too kind to me. Loser. My breath escapes my lungs in a relieved sigh and my lips melt into a smile. I remember that dream, too. I shiver playfully at the thought.

“Nah, it wasn’t that one.” He hums happily. “I’m already starting to forget what this one was,” I lie. I’m relieved, but I start to kick myself for quitting. I was so close. 

“That’s good, dude. Nightmares are a pain. Hope ya don’t have another one when ya fall back asleep.” I mumble some sort of a ‘yeah,’ in response, but my focus is dead centered on how much I feel like a pussy. Maybe I need to be more...ballsy?That's the opposite of pussy, right? Okuyasu pulls the blanket back up to his chin and starts to get comfortable.

“O-Okuyasu, actually-” Good god, I want to punch myself every time I speak. “Look at me for a sec.” 

Okuyasu actually flips around quite quickly, and it startles me. He’s either expecting something or reeeaallly losing his patience. I feel sweat beading on my forehead, gluing my messy hair to my face. I turn my head, and I meet eyes with him again. I roll my body over to face him. We’re close again. I think about taking a second chance, but Plan A clearly didn’t go very smoothly (I only got out of it because Oku’s as dense as lead), so hold my breath and attempt Plan B. 

“Raise your arm up,” I ask. He does so, vulnerably. I flip myself over, face the space of my bedroom, and scoot backwards into his body, grabbing his elevated arm and wrapping it around me. 

The B in Plan B stands for ‘ballsy’. 

“I...Is this okay?” I probably look relaxed, because he can’t see my face, but my eyes are closed tightly, and I’m grinding my teeth. No going back anymore. My stomach flips at about 4000 rpm and I think my pulse can be measured on the Richter scale. Holy shit. I’m gonna faint before I fall asleep. I’m unable to tell if my nerves are escalated or relieved, because Okuyasu moves his arm and slips it under mine. He then snakes his arm around my waist, and gives me a small, consensual squeeze. We’re spooning. We’re fucking spooning. I not only hear, but I feel his response as his face is buried into my neck. 

“...Mmhmm,” is all he can manage. His buzzed hair grazes mine as he gives me the smallest nod. Or maybe it’s a nuzzle. I can’t see straight and my brain is making modem dial-up noises, so it’s hard to tell. I nervously make my next move, moving one hand down my waist to gently grab his hand that’s on my side, and moving my other to press against my mouth. Because I’m almost certain I’m gonna toss cookies and puke. That wasabi is not gonna taste good a second time.

“...What’s up?”

That’s what he says. That’s all that Okuyasu has to say. I almost get frustrated, thinking I had finally been able to express it, but I was wrong. You’re telling me it hasn't been resolved yet??

This time I bring both hands to my face, not even bothering to hold back a pained groan. My fingertips explore the hot surface of my cheeks, and I rub my eyes. Good grief, he’s so clueless. 

“He’s never gonna know unless you tell him.”

Fuck you, Koichi. Being right all the time and shit. Being smart. Telling me to ‘uSe My WoRdS’. Of course he’s gonna be right about this. He can see right through me. 

God, why do I have to say it out loud?

“I think...I think I like you, dude.” I really said dude, huh.

“Hm?” he hums, big-eyed. I slide my hands down my face in shame and whimper. I’m disintegrating. I wish he could just erase me from existence with his stand. 

“C-C’mon, don’t make me say it again…” I whine. I’m horrendously embarrassed. So much for being more relaxed after I tell him, Koichi.

“Josuke? Dude-” He reaches to try and pull my hands away from my face, and I turn as much of my body into the pillow as I can. 

“Forget it. Please, nevermind just for-” I blubber, muffing myself in the pillow until Okuyasu interrupts me.

“Yo, Josuke, shut the fuck up would ya? Are you serious?” I always underestimate how strong he is, because at the moment I don’t expect him to grab my shoulder and flip me onto my back from my stomach. He’s sitting up on the side of me, and I let go of my face, spooked from when he shoved me. My head is spinning, and you can probably fry an egg on my skin. I feel even more vulnerable lying in a mess on my back in front of him, too.

But! I earn a little bit of my focus back. What kind of stupid question did he just ask me? I squint my eyes, and my lips part, astounded.

“Why the fuck would I say that if I wasn’t serious!?” I flail my hands out as I raise the question to him. My voice starts off really loud, but deteriorates when I remember it’s dead nighttide. “Who do you think I am?” He grabs one of my wrists in attempts to hold me still.

“Ya only said ‘like’, asshole. I wanna know what that means.” My face gets flustered again, and I pray steam doesn’t start blowing out my ears. He’s putting me through the wringer, here. I avert my eyes and in the midst of my nerves, I bite my lip again.

“..I-I don’t know? I just...like? You? I like you.” It gets easier to say the more my brain turns off. 

“You mean like, a lil crush? You too?” 

Too???

I pause at that tiny, seemingly insignificant last word. I don’t even process it in time before I start to speak again. 

“H-hold on Oku-” He grabs both of my wrists and helps me up. 

“Are you like...like, how Yukako is for Koichi?” I raise my eyebrows, and I look at him like he’s insane. Kinda like her, actually. He realizes his mistake and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Bad example. Th’ other way around. You like me like Koichi likes Yukako?” Our eyes are connected once again. His irises are excited, like they’ve got fireworks in them as if his eyes were the beautiful, night sky. I get lost in them. And also get a little dumber again.

“..You’re saying ‘like’ a lot,” I slur. He cracks a little smile. 

“You like me kinda like those chicks at school that bring you letters? Cuz they like you? Ya like me like that?” I close my eyes and snicker, relaxing my arms and letting them hang from his grip. He goes in for more. “Like? Ya like me like that? Like?? Like???”

“Y-yeah, I do” I chirp. I remember why I have feelings for this goon.

“What about how Rohan likes himself?”

That cracks me open, and I lean back as I erupt with laughter. He shifts his hand to interlock his fingers with mine, and he shushes me through a grin. I can’t look him in the eyes again. My face hurts from smiling, and I feel all bubbly. I can look everywhere but at him, because that smile of his is lighting up the whole room. I don’t really have a choice, though, because he slips his fingers from my hand and pulls my face into his view. He rubs his thumb on my cheek, and I cradle my head in his hands in relief. His palms are sweaty, but I don’t care. 

His smile falters just a tad. 

“C..can I kiss you?” he asks. We both pause, but the atmosphere is anything but silent with the number of sparks that fly. My heart skips a beat, but I glance over at him and nod.

“Okay...I’m... gonna do it now,” he says. His voice trembles just a little. He closes his eyes tight and starts to move in. I’m an impatient guy, so I purse my lips and quickly press them against his. We kiss probably for less than half a second. Okuyasu jolts and lets go of my face, immediately pressing his hands over his mouth. I don’t notice it, but I cover my mouth with a hand, too. When we meet eyes once again, our grins become too wide to hide behind our palms, giggling nervously together. 

“We’re like a bunch’a girls,” I tease, wiping the bit of sweat off my forehead and pulling my shirt collar up to my face. He agrees with me, still poorly covering that bubbly smile with his hands. I don’t really mind. I’m a love kinda guy anyway. 

Not being able to stand the awkward space between the two of us any longer, I reach out and pull him down into a hug. I make sure to squeeze him real tight, and I even try to intertwine one of his legs with mine. He grips the fabric of my shirt like a baby, giggling breathily into my neck. 

“I think I’m dreaming,” he says.

“You’re not,” I reply. He snakes his arms around my body and hugs me back. 

“I can’t really speak, and that’s not normal.” I laugh at his cute response. 

“I mean….I can prove it to you?” I offer. His weight starts to crush me a little, and I’m already woozy so I insist on negotiating. He pushes himself off of me and lifts his head up. 

“And how ya gonna do tha-” 

I wish I had known beforehand how well kissing Okuyasu can shut him up. My palms cushion his jaw, and he loses balance for a moment. Some of my hair gets between our lips, too. It’s a messy, dumb, slightly awkward few seconds of our lives, but the beaming that comes with it lasts for a long while after. I pull away from his lips and get one last look at him.

"Your lips sting, like wasabi." A kiss that literally has a little spice to it. I like it.

I let go, flop backwards into my pillow, and drape my arms over my face in ecstasy. I audibly exhale. 

“I’m so relieved,” I sigh. I’m still grinning, by the way. He waddles over to my side on his knees and proceeds to lie on his back next to me. I fold my hands on my chest and turn my head towards him. “Was I obvious? Could you tell?” He looks up and buzzes his lips.

“Had no idea.” I click my tongue in shock. 

“Seriously? You always notice when something’s off about me. I kept getting scared of you asking about it.” He thinks real deeply, trying to come up with an answer for me. His chest rises high and falls low as he calms himself down. 

“Hmm..I don’t know. Maybe whenever ya did something embarrassing in front of me, I was too distracted at how cute you get when you’re flustered to notice.” I inhale sharply through my toothy grin and shove him with both hands.

“Dude, shut the hell up, don’t call me cute. That’s so gay.” 

“I’ve got new for ya, Josuke.” We snicker again, together. Still staring up at the ceiling, he feels around for one of my hands and pulls it to hold it at his side, between us. 

“Koichi...kept telling me to say something because you’re too dumb to notice,” I admit. I guess he was right. He’s never gonna know the truth, though. Dumb Koichi.

Okuyasu cocks his eyebrow in response and snorts. “If I’m dumb, then you’ra complete idiot. At least I know how badly I contain my feelings. ‘Ve always been an open book.” He closes his eyes and laughs sheepishly to himself. He’s right, though, because I can tell how relieved he is, too. I prepare myself mentally in case he starts to cry again. 

The air in the room doesn’t seem to suffocate me anymore. When I tune in to everything else around me, I hear the early birds start to sing. We aren’t gonna get any sleep at all. The bed quietly squeaks with every moment, and I feel the fabric of his shirt brush against my arm with every expansion of his chest as he breathes ever so softly. The blankets are too tangled up to burrow under, and the pillows are completely flat, too. But I’m so, so comfortable. 

I know I can get comfier, though. 

“Yo. You know that’s the side of the bed I normally sleep on, right?” I sit up, pointing to where his body lies. He opens his eyes and sleepily hums a question mark. “That’s where I sleep. I’ve never been able to tell you to move.” 

Okuyasu lifts his head up, scans his general bubble, and yawns. He’s already falling back asleep. 

“We c’n make it both’f ours, then. C’mere.” He opens his arms out, lazily inviting me next to him. I scoot a few inches over, press into his side, and rest my head on his chest. There’s that heartbeat, again. It’s softer, this time. 

I take one of my hands and I make sure my hair isn’t still in some poor excuse for a pomp that’s assaulting his face, and sigh. It's actually probably closer to a swoon. I don't care. His side is like a little safe space to me. Always has been. 

“Hey,” I poke his chest. “You’re my best friend.” He whimpers lowly, rapidly growing too tired to speak. 

“‘M not your boyfriend yet?” he mumbles. All I manage is a smile. 

“...You can be that, too. But you’re always gonna be my bro, still.” 

Okuyasu takes a slow breath in, pulls me closer with his arm, and exhales with the softest, sweetest giggle I’ll ever hear. 

“Bros.” 

I smile to myself, noticing a crimson sunrise peeking through the curtains.

“..and boyfriends,” I say, closing my eyes with him.

“Bro-friends. Let’s combine ‘m.”

“Let’s not.” 

“Oi. Don’t argue with me, I’m your bro-friend.” 

“Yeah? And what of it?”

“‘F you gimmie attitude like that again, ‘m gonna kiss you.” 

I shift my head, rest my chin up on his shoulder and open my eyes to look at him. The smile on my lips doesn’t go away for a long while.

“Do it, then.”

Fin