Work Text:
Rohan stared at the page in front of him, a frown etched into his features.
He’d been sat for nearly an hour now, and still had nothing. He sighed and leant back, stretching. Sitting back up, he glanced at the clock. 11.04 am. Still early, he thought to himself.
11.04 pm in Florida.
He stood and rubbed his neck to work out the kinks, his other hand flipping through the pages on his desk. He’d already finished the next few weeks’ chapters so he was good for at least a month, but art block meant something. He never got art block. Apart from that time with Josuke- He curled his lip just thinking of the others name- He’s never struggled with drawing.
He put the papers back in order and turned away from his desk, leaving the room. He made his way to the kitchen, and flicked the switch for the kettle.
“Might as well have a coffee break.” He said to the empty room as he reached up to get a cup from the shelf, and dumped a spoon of instant coffee into the cup. Leaning against the counter, he held the cup in both hands, stroking his thumb over the rim and counted the seconds. It usually took the kettle 118 seconds to boil, unless it needed to be cleaned. It was much quieter now he’d gone, he thought to himself at 78 seconds.
“Maybe it’s quiet for him too” he heard a voice say at the 92nd second. He then snorted to himself, thinking maybe he should get a hobby if he knows exactly how many seconds it took for his kettle to boil. The kettle clicked and Rohan turned back to the counter, taking care not to burn his hand on the steam as he filled his cup. He’d done that many times before and had the scars to prove it; he did not need to make the same mistake a 7th time, thank you very much. He pushed the memory of Jotaro kissing those faint scald marks out of his mind, only because it made his hand tingle slightly. He made his way onto the porch and pulled up a chair, taking care not to place it on any of the burnt floorboards. He rubbed a hand over his face with a groan, making a mental note to look up architects later. After cheap trick, he’d pushed the thought of renovating out of his mind and he still had to step around the hole in the upstairs hallway.
Rohan threw one leg over the other and placed the cup on the table, crossing his hands over his chest. He stared out at the front garden, and then beyond, at the street. His gaze gets caught on a young girl cycling, and he watched her until she left the cul de sac. She looked to be the same age as Reimi had been. He rested his head in his palm and watched the street, bored, and found his mind wandering to Jotaro. He tilted his head and glanced at his watch on his other hand. 12 minutes had passed since he looked at the clock on his desk, unless one of the two was somehow wrong. He watched the second hand move, seemingly almost going back half a tick before going forward. Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, twenty seve-
There was a loud noise to his left and he jumped, looking up. He scanned the area before spotting his neighbours trash cans had been knocked over, most likely by a fox or other scavenger type animal. He remembered seeing a possum a while back; digging through the trash cans on Main Street when he’d been walking back from dinner one night. He turned his attention to a mug ring on the pine table, and placed his head back in his palm, using the fingers of his other hand to trace the shape absentmindedly. Jotaro had made the mark; he’d placed a glass of something on the side, ignoring Rohans yell to put down a coaster. Rohan didn’t think much of coasters, he only used them out of habit, and even now Jotaro had gotten him used to going without.
Jotaro had gotten him used to a lot of things. He’d gotten him used to waking up early, although he didn’t actually get out of bed until later, instead choosing to watch Jotaro go through his morning workout routine, waving a goodbye as he stepped out for a run. He’d also gotten used to eating a decent meal thanks to Jotaro. It wasn’t like Rohan didn’t know how to cook, of course he did- he just never felt like doing it when living alone. Having Jotaro around had made it less lonely, standing in the large kitchen with him and his strange American rock music playing on the radio as he beat eggs or chopped up parsley. He’d gotten him used to walks along the waterside in the evening; listening to Jotaro tell him marine facts he’d probably never use in daily life, only listening because Jotaro was willingly talking and taking his hand in a rush of confidence, feeling his face flush when Jotaro’s thumb stroked over the back of his hand affectionately. Rohan had gone for a walk along the beach on the evening of the day Jotaro flew back to Florida. He wasn’t surprised to find it wasn’t the same.
Rohan flinched and pulled his finger off the table, turning it to reveal a small splinter embedded in the finger pad. He picked at it with his other hand, tugging out as he thought about the day before Jotaro had returned.
“Ever planning on coming back?” Rohan tried to keep his voice level.
Jotaro didn’t look up at him, his hands still in the small pool of water. Rohan’s hand paused, pen poised, ink dripping onto the paper in large round blobs.
“You know, Morioh’s gotten used to the quiet Kujo Jotaro. “ (I’ve gotten used to the quiet Kujo Jotaro.) “It’ll be hard to go back to the same old boring routine.”
Jotaro looks up, gaze soft.
“My work’s in Florida.” He said. He looked like he was going to say something else, but Rohan looked back down at his paper before Jotaro’s gaze could capture him.
“I know. You said that’s why you’re going back.” He drew lines on the paper, starting with thick running into thin as the ink ran out in the nib. When the ink was gone he scratched the paper with the nib, the noise making his ears itch.
“Rohan.” Jotaro began and Rohan gave in, looking up. Jotaro had taken one hand out of the rock pool, drying it on his trousers.
“I’m going to come back.”
“Of course you will. Josuke’s here, you wouldn’t-“
“I’m going to come back because of you.” Jotaro cut Rohan’s sentence off midway, and Rohan feels heat rise to his cheeks.
“Okay. Yeah.” He looked down at his lap again, scratching lines into the paper pad. Rohan had realised the day after that was Jotaro’s way of saying “I love you”.
Rohan inspected the splinter of wood having tugged it out before flicking it to the floor and turning his attention to his fingertip. He squeezed it, watching as a bead of blood formed and pressed it to his lips, licking it off. The tang of iron sat on the tip of his tongue, and he reached for his coffee to wash it down. Rohan grimaced at the bitter taste. He was used to a milky, sweeter taste, and even after stealing sips of Jotaro’s sharp black coffee he couldn’t stand it on its own. Jotaro had made comments about coffee only being worth drinking when it’s black, to which Rohan had stuck out his tongue, stirring in more sugar to his own. He’d snuck a spoonful of sugar into Jotaro’s coffee once, resulting in Jotaro taking one sip then glaring at him. He didn’t leave it though, drinking all of it, and Rohan counted that as a triumph.
He looked down at his cup of coffee. He was pretty sure there was some milk left in the fridge but he didn’t care enough to go get it. He set it back down on the table, pushing it away, and thought about Jotaro. He wondered if he was still awake now, or if he’d gone to bed early. When they’d last talked it’d been 2 am for him; Jotaro with complaints of not being able to sleep had woken Rohan from his nap on the couch. They’d talked as Rohan had gone around his garden with a watering can, sprinkling a few of the wilting plants with some cool water, and about an hour and half later Jotaro said goodbye, talking about how he would try to get some sleep before work the next day.
Rohan had wanted to say something more, but instead had settled for “Sleep well”, his tongue heavy in his mouth. It had been hard to get used to Jotaro not being around. Sure, Koichi still came over now and then, bringing along Josuke and Okuyasu with him and the two behaved surprisingly well- but it wasn’t the same as Jotaro. Jotaro had been everywhere, in a sense. In his kitchen, his shower, on the porch with his cigarettes, between his bed sheets; Jotaro had left traces of himself, even if unintentionally.
Rohan heard the rumble of thunder and looked up, seeing grey clouds. He considered taking a nap, or even just going back to bed until the evening. He didn’t have anything else planned for today, and he wasn’t particularly interested in sitting trying to draw in rainy weather. Rain just tended to make him sleepy. Rohan thought back to the time Jotaro and him tried to watch a movie when it had been raining, causing them to cancel their plans to go to the beach. It had started alright, but soon enough Rohan drifted off, head in Jotaro’s lap. When he woke up the movie had finished and Jotaro was playing with his hair, fingers sifting through the strands, flicking through the TV channels at random.
Rohan sighed to himself. It really was lonely now Jotaro had gone. He’d even tried playing his stupid American rock music but it hadn’t made any difference- if anything, it’d made the house sound quieter. Talking on the phone wasn’t the same as lying in his arms. Rohan had never experienced something like what he had with Jotaro, and the yearning was going to drive him out of his mind. He wished he’d had at least seen where Jotaro lived. Jotaro had talked about it many times, prompted by Rohan, but even with his artistic mind he couldn’t conjure up a solid image. Every time he thought about it the image changed. One thing that never changed was the fish tanks. He imagined them tall and wide, pushed up against the wall. Some so large Jotaro had to walk sideways to get through a hallway. He imagined them with blue led lights that shone and lit up the sitting room at night.
He’d sometimes imagined a large octopus tank in Jotaro’s room instead of a bed, imagined Jotaro stripping down to his undershirt and boxers then climbing in, sleeping in the tank. He joked about Jotaro secretly being a merman, delighted when Jotaro had sometimes played along, putting a finger to his lips and winking with a smile. He thought about the sound of the tank filters, a low hum in the otherwise quiet room. About Jotaro getting back late from work and checking all of the tanks, sprinkling in food flakes, checking the temperatures. He could imagine Jotaro, on nights he couldn’t sleep, sitting in the middle room, closing his eyes and listening to the hum.
Rohan heard the ringing of a phone and it was a while before he registered it was his home phone. He laid his head on the table, the wood cool against his skin and ignored the call until it went through to answer phone. It played his message, then there was a click and a long pause and for a second Rohan almost kid himself it was Jotaro that called. He almost stood up and went to the phone, but then the person on the other end spoke, a person Rohan recognised as his editor.
“Rohan? It’s me, Yazawa. How’s the chapter coming along? Great I’m sure. You’re probably working on it now.” His voice was quiet due to distance and Rohan rolled his eyes at the unnecessary small talk.
“Get to the point already.” He said muffled, cheek against the hard table.
“Anyway, you’re busy so I’ll keep it short.”
“Please do.”
“There’s a gala next week. A lot of big names will be there; mangakas, sponsors, editors. The company wants you to go. What with Pink Dark Boy having picked up off hiatus again you have a chance to meet other people. You do kind of...” The man stopped and Rohan raised an eyebrow. “Lock yourself away. Never good for business, that.”
Rohan groaned and turned his face into the wood, exhaling loudly. He stopped listening, closing his eyes and turning his thoughts to Jotaro’s middle room. Would he have a couch big enough for the two? He lived alone, an apartment he bought during the divorce, but he doubted it was a bachelor pad. Jotaro had mentioned Jolyne coming over occasionally, so he must have room for her.
Rohan imagined a room for a child, full with toys and trinkets, colouring pencils and pieces of paper strewn across the floor. He couldn’t help but model it off his own; with the paper planes hanging from the ceiling, bookshelf of books, drawings stuck to the wall with sticky tape. He heard the click of the phone being hung up and he sighed with relief, lifting his head before resting it back on the table, his crossed arms cushioning his face.
He heard the phone ring again and he groaned again, hitting his head against his arms before sitting up. He knew he should answer the phone, if he didn’t his editor would just keep calling, right into the evening. He’d done it before. The call went through to answer machine and Rohan stood up. He picked up his now cold cup of coffee, pausing when he realised his editor hadn’t said anything yet.
“Maybe he hung up?” He mused and pushed in his chair, sipping at the cold coffee. He grimaced again.
“Rohan.” Came a voice that wasn’t his editors, low and muffled on the machine speaker. Rohan stopped in his steps. That was Jotaro. He tilted his head, closing his eyes.
“It’s late here, I just got back. Long day of filing.”
“You hate filing.” Rohan said under his breath, and almost as if he heard him, Jotaro continued.
“You know how I hate filing.” Rohan stepped inside, closing the front door behind him. He walked over to where the phone sat in its cradle, on the cabinet he used for storing his old chapter drafts and sewing kit. The light indicating he had a message flashed on and off, blinking slowly.
“Maybe you’re busy. That’s fine. I don’t want to tear you away from your work. I was hoping to talk to you, but your answer machine will do. I got to hear your voice on your answering machine anyway.” Jotaro huffed a dry laugh and Rohan brought his fingers to his lips, smiling. He wanted to answer.
Jotaro began to talk about his day, a low murmur sprinkled with terms Rohan didn’t know or understand, and Rohan moved to the kitchen, pouring the cold coffee down the drain and rinsing the cup out. He turned to the kettle, flicking the switch to boil it again and dumped a teabag in the cup.
“Jolyne asked about you, the other day.” He heard Jotaro say and he turned his attention back to the answering machine. “I have uh, well; I have a photo of you, in my wallet. Newspaper cut out from a while back, when the media found out you lived in Morioh. Well, anyway, she saw it, next to a photo of her, and asked who you were. I told her of course.” Rohan raised an eyebrow. He told his daughter about him. That was a new development. The kettle whistled and he filled his cup, sniffing as the steam made his nose run.
“She said you had funny hair. And that you needed to smile.” Rohan snorted, going into the cupboards for the sugar. He opened the fridge, scrunching his nose up at the smell of food gone bad. He found the culprit; a plate of pasta covered with cling film, and sniffed it once. He recoiled and pulled a face and dumped it in the trash can, leaving the plate by the sink. He closed the door of the fridge and stirred sugar into his tea, the tea bag sitting on a plate by the kettle to be re used. “I mean, I personally like your hair. I think it suits you. I agree about the smiling bit though.”
“You’re one to talk.” Rohan said to the empty room, and walked over to the phone again. He put his cup down by the answering machine and got himself a chair to sit down before it.
“Anyway, I didn’t really have a reason to call. I just felt like talking to someone. Or something. I’ve already said that, haven’t I?” Jotaro said letting out a laugh afterwards and Rohan lifted his cup to his mouth, sipping at it. He winced when he scalded his tongue on the hot drink and put it back down. “Florida’s a nice place. It’s... to me, though, it’s always felt incomplete. Everyone talks about it being a wonderful place, whereas I’ve always felt something’s missing. “I got that feeling when I came back from Morioh, even stronger than before. It took me a while to pinpoint it, and when I did it... well those songs people write kind of made sense.” Jotaro hesitated before continuing. “This sounds ridiculous, and not like me at all, but I realised what was missing was you.”
There was a pause and Rohan’s hand hovered over the receiver, the temptation to answer too strong.
“I miss you. Florida’s not Florida without you; and you’ve never even been here.” Rohan snatched up the receiver.
“Jotaro?” He sounded breathless.
“Rohan.” Jotaro sounded surprised and Rohan felt a smile spread across his face.
“Yeah, I just got in and heard you now. I was...” Rohan thought for a moment. “Out. But I’m back now. Were you on the phone for long?”
“I- no, no I had only just called a minute or so ago.” Rohan was pretty sure something just burst in his chest. Probably his heart; or less romantic, his lung. He was probably dying from a punctured lung. He didn’t really care too much at the moment.
“Okay, that’s good then. Were you free to talk?”
“Yeah, I’ve got time to chat.” Jotaro sounded relaxed, his voice soothing and warm. Rohan stood up, taking the wireless receiver and his tea to the couch, lying down on the cushions.
“So...” Rohan started. “How was your day?”