Work Text:
Rohan had been dealing with a significantly big problem for the past few days. A problem that, during all the weeks in which it was swallowing him up, would have been much more productive and economical of all his mental health that was draining from his impenetrable peace. However, this situation cost him much more than a simple moment of reflection in night crises and lack of sleep: it actually cost him a good deal of his pride, especially when the reason for this disaster was right in front of him, sitting on his padded and expensive sofa at the same time as he stared at the pastel colored walls of his sanctuary - if not, his most dignified professional studio.
“I will not bite you, Higashikata. You don't have to worry about that.” At least not for today, he added mentally.
Josuke still seemed nervous after hearing the short and indifferent speech from Rohan, who was sitting in a chair specially turned towards him - analyzing him with a threatening calm. The mangaka was almost offended to think that the student would have such a negative outlook on him. But he didn't blame him, though. It was not a lie that all the artist's fibers were fighting inside him to punch him until he could no longer speak in his office.
"I'm sorry, Rohan-sensei, but I still haven't found any reason why you have invited me here.” Higashikata confessed, uncomfortably dangling his feet on the floor covering. "Not after I, w-well-"
"... Burned my house?" The older one questioned, a derisive expression growing on his face.
The other's body language has evolved into something more concerned, however. "Hey, I tried to apologize."
Of course, the times when he appeared at his door insistently in search of some forgiveness. Which was not very efficient, since Rohan pretended to be out anyway. It was still strange to have someone he was unfamiliar with in his personal space, marking the floor and absorbing the heat beyond his own rustic lungs. Rohan tapped his long lashes on his outlined cheeks, leaning on his left elbow. "Doesn't matter. I didn't invite you to hear your dishonest personality again.” He spat, finally settling himself into the rehabilitated seat and putting his sketchbook aside on his desk. "Now, I want you to materialize your Crazy Diamond."
The younger one deconstructed his countenance, looking angry again - which confused Rohan once again.
"Did you call me here because you wanted a fight?”
The mangaka grunted, massaging his temples.
Could this brat be so dumb? Perhaps he was speaking in a language not so obvious to someone with such a small brain.
“Listen, I don't have the whole day. If I wanted to kick your ass back I would have done it already, but you are absolutely lucky that I think doing it's not worth my effort and mental energy, so hurry up and do what I'm saying.”
They were silent for a while after the shorter man's harsh statement, until Josuke sighed and seemed more willing to obey him when he stiffened his posture, although his defensive aura still poured a level of suspicion over the artist who was waiting. Soon, his stand hovered in the air, coloring a muscular anatomy between cobalt blue and hot pink that gave his user an intimidating touch.
That is, it is not that Rohan felt any kind of fear when being with Higashikata Josuke. If he needed to point him out in some kind of emotion he would definitely be drawing clear memories of his past, where Crazy Diamond sent him directly to the hospital and made him take a substantial four-week break in his manga.
The taller one eased his throat, sustaining eye contact that proved to be more difficult than he imagined. "... Is there anything broken in your studio?”
Rohan was rotting there. "Gee, stop making so many guesses and shut up!”
Heaven's Door manifested seconds later, being left freely to take over without the control of the mangaka. Josuke looked even more confused at that moment, biting his lower lip and making Crazy Diamond retreat towards him.
"Let him." Rohan ordered. Or rather, he almost begged when he looked at him with a less hostile than usual face. Higashikata seemed to ponder, nevertheless, he finally gave in to letting his stand move casually.
In the first few seconds, it was as if they both did not have much emancipation from their respective positions when they were so close to their users, but, decisively, something clicked when the green circles of Heaven's Door leaned into the shape five times greater than him. Josuke's eyebrow shot up, looking at Rohan for an answer. Kishibe just shrugged, hissing them to wait to find out. Thus, Heaven's Door floated in the air languidly to where Josuke's stand was. He watched him with chaste curiosity that made the artist squirm with interest and inspiration, quickly capturing some sketches of his expressions while not taking his eyes off what was happening.
Until, at some point, the small eyes of the smaller stand shone as soon as he showed traces of his own personality. Unusually, he extended his small hands to Crazy Diamond's humanoid face. And without further ado: he touched him. Josuke let out a brief noise that second, caressing his left cheek where Rohan's shape had touched and feeling it tingle. Meanwhile, Kishibe smiled to himself, lost in a complete mix of feelings that he was unable to explain, convinced that he was not seeing things the day he first caught them.
He knew that what he saw was not just a fantasy in his mind. The truth is, it didn't take him long to realize that, whatever was going on, it wasn't something that Josuke was controlling. Initially, the mangaka tried to convince himself that it was all just a plan from the teenager to deceive him, but after the day he happened to meet him at Tonio's restaurant, he understood that this was not the origin of what he was looking for. Rohan was close to starting some sort of argument with the stunned delinquent, when yet another unexpected event happened. He felt his torso become hot and pressed suddenly, as if he were being enveloped in an overwhelming force. His jaw dropped when he understood what was happening: it was not a simple touch.
Crazy Diamond was embracing Heaven's Door.
"Make him stop!" Rohan screamed, his eyes wide and his face burning as he felt more and more crushed.
Josuke despaired, without much effort making his stand disappear into the air in a few seconds and approaching Rohan, who took a deep breath in relief and pushed him away violently, entering a coughing fit soon after. "Was he too strong? Are you out of breath?"
"N-No! This is embarrassing, just- God! Why is this happening?!"
"I-I don't know!" The youngest stumbled over his own words. His tanned skin was filled with an incandescent rose as he paced Rohan's office. He seemed to be facing his monologue when a fanciful lamp flashed over his head, causing him to turn to the mangaka with his eyes wide open. "That day, when you left for no reason, was it because of that?"
Kishibe winced as he tried to control his uneven breathing. "Great discovery."
He was comfortable in one of the Deux Magots seats, feeling the not-so-cold breeze giving him funny sensations through his naked abdomen, in a new and expensive piece of his new collection of Gucci clothes the day it started, sitting around the three teenagers responsible for the decline of his own peace: when, suddenly, he witnessed Crazy Diamond gently caressing Heaven's Door's face somewhere within Josuke's invisible boundary - dotting imaginary circles with his big hands on the delicate little figure of his stand.
Rohan hated him. He hated him so much that, frankly, he couldn't breathe as he would like to be around the student because all he could think about was his house burning, his bones breaking and his headache inflating in a ridiculous smell of male cologne just adorable.
No... It was something like endless ignorance. That was the smell of Higashikata Josuke. The smell of a liar.
In the meantime, that has not yet explained why Heaven's Door manifested itself without him invoking it. Because, in his certain amount of autonomy, he allowed another grotesque way to harass him.
Rohan wanted to throw up.
He let this situation pass, until he saw it happen again two weeks later, and then Rohan felt humiliated, deceived and underestimated. He did not know what Higashikata had done or what he planned to do, but the only certainty that he conceived from that moment on is that he needed to bring it to himself on his own if he wanted to unravel it.
The other seemed more conscious as he sat down on the sofa again: so calm that Rohan blinked twice before believing that, perhaps, he was taking the whole situation for granted. "I mean, I never imagined that our stands would be friends.” Josuke started, scratching the back of his neck. "He doesn't act that way even with The Hand of Okuyasu."
Rohan choked. "What did you say?"
"About Okuyasu?"
"No. Before that."
The teenager stretched, trying to recover what the artist was asking. "Uh, I just said that our stands are friends."
It was the most insolent thing Rohan had ever heard. He had to make sure he was listening correctly when he processed what the student said again, as calmly as if he were certain that there was some chance that they were both developing a kind of friendly atmosphere.
The mangaka closed his expression, staring at him in a way that faithfully followed the thesis that, if looks could cut, Kishibe Rohan's eyes would be a blade at that moment.
"Our stands are not friends." Rohan snarled, throwing one of his small potted plants towards the student (who easily dodged with his good reflection, but severely frightened). The smaller one just stood in front of him, moving far enough on Josuke until he had his index finger resting on his stomach in a threatening way. "Say that again and I will write on you so that you will never be able to wear this ridiculous hairstyle again!"
Higashikata countered him, his eyes clouded with rage as he grabbed the collar of the artist's shirt. His Achilles' Heel being drastically hit. "That doesn't say much about someone who manipulated people and induced them to commit suicide just because of a stupid manga!"
"How can you even think of judging my precious Pink Dark Boy when you are so old-fashioned? Your hair is out of date like shit and you have zippers on your fucking blouse!" Rohan needed to do something. Something that didn't take him to the hospital, but hurt him just as badly. Therefore, he looked instantly at Josuke's jacket and those vain compartments on his chest waiting to be opened. It was there that the eldest took his hatred to a more personal level and simply pulled. "You perverted!"
Josuke became an embarrassed red huddle, pulling his hands away just to cover his exposed chest. Rohan smiled when he saw him humiliated, ready to laugh at the comic scene he was witnessing, until Josuke's eyebrows went up and he shouted in stagnation: "Kishibe Rohan!"
The teenager was unable to describe exactly what he was aiming for, and certainly what was on his mind the minute he grabbed the trousers that the older man was wearing that morning, in a way that confused him and made him grunt in surprise, pulling it down and leaving him only on his...
Versace thong?
Well, Josuke always found it strange how he vehemently displayed the top of his underpants in his open belts, and that was the same hypocritical petulance that made him drop his pants, but... Nothing explained what his eyes were seeing at that moment.
"T-That is..." He stammered, feeling his ears heat up.
Rohan's face was completely scarlet, rushing to hide his intimacy. They looked at each other in an excessively awkward climate, still shrinking as much as they could. Certainly, this lasted until the moment when their eyes were unable to remain still and, in this way, they found themselves examining each other's bodies and paying attention to the small details that made up their masculinities and bodily expressions in general.
In fact, Josuke had seen many beautiful things in his life, but Rohan's ass was... A point.
Kishibe seemed to have caught him looking, because a big malicious smile formed on his lips a few seconds later. Josuke froze, expecting only the worst of all things that could be coming out of the other man's throat.
However, everything that was coming through the artist was:
"Maybe we can find out more about how our stands feel..." He suggested, approaching the younger one dangerously and, as if he hadn't been insulted for a few minutes, he stood in front of his ears, whispering giddily: "In my room."
Needless to say, Josuke surely loved this idea.