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Noriaki wasn't one to be insecure, Jotaro figured. He always stood so proud, but not bordering on conceit. During the trip to Egypt, he never seemed afraid-- and he hadn't even guessed that the redhead was until he came back from N'doul's attack, rambling on about how he wouldn't let his fears get the best of him. Even just before then, he was talking about how special his hair was to him-- an obvious sign of pride. The most wrecked Jotaro had seen him was when he had come back from the brink of death twice-- the first time in his own hands, the second time in a hospital bed.
So yeah. Noriaki just didn't seem to be the insecure type.
Or so Jotaro thought.
--
"What's it like to have such a nice body?" The redhead asked over video games one night, half a pop tart hanging out of his mouth. Jotaro had just exited the bathroom from a shower, towel hanging low on his hips-- but Noriaki didn't even look at him when he asked. Noriaki hadn't even looked at him at all since he walked out. He was too focused on his game.
Jotaro snorted, and took a spot next to him. "Shut up."
"You'll get the floor wet if you stay there too long, Jotaro. And I'm not kidding. Your scars from Egypt even faded." Now, Noriaki chances a glance in Jotaro's direction. It's only for a split second though-- not enough to throw him off his game.
"I wasn't injured that badly."
"You were stabbed in the stomach, Jojo."
That seemed fair enough. With a frown, Jotaro got up and towel dried his hair.
"What do you want for dinner tonight?" The younger called back as he was changing into his boxers. And just like that, the subject had been dropped.
--
It wasn't brought up again until they decided to go to the beach-- it was inevitable, after all. They lived in Miami.
"It's nice to get away from the house," Noriaki sighed in content as he propped up an umbrella, and Jotaro grunted in agreement. He chucked off his shirt, looking over at the redhead in expectancy for him to do the same-- but he hadn't.
He was actually settled down on the towel now, lathering sun screen on the parts of his arms not covered by his shirt, and on his legs. He pulled out a book from the bag.
"Noriaki."
The redhead blinked up at him, owlishly. "Hm?"
"Did you not want to come here."
"Wh-what do you mean? I agreed, didn't I?" Noriaki looked utterly confused now, eyebrows furrowing and lips pressing into a thin line. "Did you not want to come here?"
"No... It's just..." Jotaro fumbled for words, before gesturing to the smaller's attire. "Shirt."
"Oh-- oh!" He tugged on the front of the cloth, and cast Jotaro a sly look. "Not everyone can look as good shirtless as you do, Jotaro."
Jotaro felt unsettled with that, for some reason. "Didn't you get surgery, last year?" He gestured again to Noriaki's chest. In response, the smaller went red in the face and suddenly buried his face in his book. Jotaro didn't know how he was being rude-- he just didn't understand why Noriaki didn't want to take his shirt off and go out into the water. He could read books at home.
--
The next time was more obvious than a passing comment about Jotaro 'being the hottest', or some bullshit like that.
"Can you-- leave it on tonight?" Noriaki gasped out, Jotaro pausing mid hickey on his neck to pull back and look at him. He was talking about his night shirt. His nimble fingers were fumbling with the hem.
"...Sure, Noriaki." Jotaro felt a pit open up in his stomach, bit by bit, one that had been forming since the first offhand comment about his body. But he wasn't about to force his boyfriend to get naked and uncomfortable.
Noriaki smiled in obvious relief, batting his eyelashes in what Jotaro guessed what was supposed to be enticing, but Jotaro didn't move back to finish what he started yet.
"Are you sure... You want to. Tonight." He slid a hand on the pale meat of Noriaki's thigh, which twitched in sensitivity at the caress.
"What? Yes! Of course, I would've told you already if I didn't." He brought one hand up (the other one still pulling the shirt down) to bring Jotaro down into another heated kiss. The hand slid down to press against the larger's naked abs.
Jotaro hoped maybe it was a phase-- Egypt had probably been the worst on Noriaki, and maybe he still had some scars that had yet to completely fade, or-- or something.
He hoped.
--
"Noriaki, it's like..." Jotaro looked at his computer. "98 outside. You can handle having your shirt off for a while." No matter how cool Jotaro turned the air up, the moment it went off the sweltering heat drove inside-- through the cracks in the doors, walls, everything.
Even Jotaro was half naked, in just his boxers, wiping sweat from his forehead every now and then.
"No, no-- there's no need," Noriaki waved him off, but he was panting, shirt soaked as he attempted to continue cooking dinner.
"You're in a long sleeved fucking shirt, Noriaki," Jotaro snapped, but then swiftly locked his jaw closed. Anger wasn't the way to approach this, even if the redhead was bordering on heat stroke. Even if he tortured himself in different ways just to make sure he was never shirtless--
But then, Jotaro realized something. He had seen Noriaki shirtless plenty of times-- even recently, coming home from a later class he walked in on Noriaki shirtless and playing his games. He just sat behind him and wrapped an arm around the redhead's thin waist, hooked his chin on the his shoulder, and watched the smaller play his game.
It was only when he, Jotaro, was shirtless, did Noriaki vehemently refuse to get shirtless as well.
"Did I do something?" Jotaro asked, moving the computer off of his lap and getting up and off the couch. He had to come at this subject gently, even if it was out of character for him. He couldn't handle Noriaki hating him, or leaving him because he was rude.
"What?" The redhead stopped completely what he was doing-- but when he looked over at Jotaro he couldn't even keep eye contact. His eyes stayed on his body.
"Did I do something." Jotaro leaned over the smaller to turn off the stove himself, before pulling back and staring his lover fiercely in the eyes.
"What do you mean by that, Jojo? Quit acting silly."
"You don't... You don't go shirtless with me anymore," he grits out, through clenched teeth. "It's not even that you don't get naked-- it's just your top. Why." He hoped he didn't sound demanding.
"Jojo, I-- Uh." The redhead was obviously surprised at the confrontation, stuttering and sweating even more.
"Did I do something wrong."
"N-no! No, please," Noriaki's voice cracked, and he slapped the knife down on the counter. He pressed his fingers to his eyelids, as if he was physically pushing back his tears. "Please."
Jotaro slowly moved in, cupping the lower part of Noriaki's back. "Then... What. Is it your scars..?"
"... No, it's--" Noriaki sniffed sharply, wiping his nose with the back of his hands. He looked down on himself, eyes glossy and red rimmed. "I don't want you thinking of me, as-- as a girl, you know? Because--"
"Noriaki." Jotaro's voice was loud, but not angry, cutting the smaller off sharply. He didn't flinch, but with the look on his face he might as well have. "Didn't we go over this when we got together?"
"I-- I know! And-- and when I got surgery, I thought I would feel better-- I thought my dysphoria would let up but--" Noriaki curled in on himself. "Every time I was around you I couldn't... Stop thinking about how.. About how I wished I looked more like you, because-- because I have a feminine face, but a flat chest, but a-- I'm-- I feel like you won't see me as either, now, because at least when-- when I used a binder, I still had boobs," the redhead was rambling now, but Jotaro let it all spill out-- this was a healing process. You have to let the poison out first before you can begin. "But now I don't, and-- and it's so hard, you know? Sometimes it gets so bad, I just-- I want to be you so badly, Jotaro-- born like that, with your body, and-- and," Noriaki gestured to him, vaguely, turning away so he couldn't see the tears spill over. Proud, even when emotionally wrecked. "I don't want you thinking of me as anything else but a boy."
Then, Noriaki slumped-- as if with his words, the wires to him had been cut as well. Like a limp puppet. Jotaro tugged him forward, gently fingering underneath the hem of Noriaki's shirt before tugging it up. Slowly, slowly. He didn't want Noriaki to become startled, or jump away.
"You shouldn't depend on my opinion so much for validation, Noriaki," Jotaro grunted, and tossed the sweat-soaked shirt some place else. Noriaki nodded, still turned away, arms crossed over his chest. Jotaro wrapped his arms around him. He kissed the tip of his ear, and pulled redhead's arms away.
"I love you." Jotaro was never good with words, and he was sure whatever he had to say wouldn't immediately fix Noriaki like magic. "I love you, and I would never think of you as a girl. You're just as much a man as I am, Nori."
The smaller gently shuffled around in his arms until he was facing Jotaro, and buried his face in the larger's chest. "I love you too, Jotaro."
Dysphoria came and went, it wasn't something to be cured. People would always be insecure. But Jotaro was willing to work with Noriaki for as long as he had to, to make him believe that he was everything Jotaro was.
Jotaro buried his face in Noriaki's hair and sighed. Breathed in. Smelled all of what Noriaki was-- his fruit shampoo, his sweat, the food he was cooking earlier, and decided, yes.
This is who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.