Chapter Text
Jotaro opened his bleary eyes to a small dark room, his apartment. Broad sunlight filtered through his venetian blinds, set right next to his bed, so they wouldn’t hit his face. The light cast white-yellow rays on the linoleum floor that mimicked dark wood. The floor was dusty.
The room’s floor was clean aside from the dust, but his desk, laundry hamper, sink, and counter were covered in countless items, all untouched for at least three days. Sometimes, he almost rises from bed to clean just because he can’t stand the thought of how disgusting it may be, or how disgusting it will get if he doesn’t do anything about it.
So much for the Speedwagon Foundation’s money. If he was paying for someone’s home knowing it looks like this, he would take it away and tell them to get a job. God, he wished someone would yell at him to get up because maybe then he actually would.
But no.
No one is here except him.
He knew he went to this stupid college away from everyone just so he could isolate himself but now all he wants is someone to be with him.
He turned around in his bed. His sweat was slick and he wondered how it must reek in here.
He thought of nothing and went back to sleep.
The next time he woke up wasn’t natural, the phone on his bedside table made that awful trilling sound. He did nothing and let it ring. Silence washed over him when it stopped but it was almost immediately cut off by the phone ringing again. He sighed and flipped over, not bothering to sit up, he took the phone off the receiver to his ear.
Jotaro inhaled, “Hello?” His voice was hoarse and craggly with disuse. That simple greeting was probably incomprehensible to the person on the phone, but the person went on anyway.
“Jotaro! There you are! I was wondering if I had the wrong number for a second!” It was Joseph. His voice was rough and expressive and too loud. Jotaro winced away from the phone and pulled it from his ear a few inches farther.
Jotaro hummed in acknowledgement and Joseph went on, “Anyway, just wanted to check on something. You’re on your summer break right?”
“Yes.” Jotaro thinks the break started about a week ago but he wasn’t really sure, days were already blending together in sweaty darkness that brought nothing and took everything out of him. He should probably turn his air conditioner on soon, it will get really muggy and hot really fast. He’s learned from last year’s summer in his school required dorm. The dorm’s built-in air conditioner broke almost immediately into the summer so he had to endure Florida’s overwhelming heat for a few weeks before he could buy a better air conditioner.
Joseph interrupted his train of thought, “Good! I hope you’re enjoying it so far. I was just checking because Kakyoin will be in Florida next week!” Joseph kept yammering on but all of it was lost to Jotaro.
Kakyoin and next week is all that Jotaro could think and it circled around in his head, a vulture keeping an eye on a dying animal from the sky.
Soon, Joseph came back to him, “Jotaro? Are you there?”
“Yes,” He said again, trying to shake away the overwhelming dread that came to him, and focus on what Joseph was saying.
Joseph started again, familiar with Jotaro’s cloudy head, “Him and Polnareff will be up here this week, but Polnareff needs to catch a flight back to France on Sunday, so he won’t be able to see you. Kakyoin is leaving the same day to Florida to come visit you. His flight is only about two and a half hours, so he should be there the same day. Kakyoin actually… Well, Kakyoin actually wanted to surprise you but I know you don’t handle surprises very well so I thought I should go ahead and call you.”
Shame burned in Jotaro’s chest at the comment. Joseph shouldn’t have to do anything for his grandson. Jotaro should just be normal.
“...Thank you, old man.”
“Of course, son.”
A brief silence lapsed them before Joseph cleared his throat, “Well, it was nice hearing from you, Jotaro. I’ll be calling you again soon, and don’t ignore me this time!” He said it jokingly even with a little chuckle at the end, but it just made Jotaro feel worse.
“Okay, Jiji, I won’t.” Jotaro wanted to believe he meant it this time.
Jotaro listened as Joseph hastily hung up his phone, like he always does, always so busy, and left Jotaro with nothing but a mechanical buzzing. Jotaro breathed a sigh, his head running through their conversation. He put his phone back on the receiver and turned back around in bed.
He was plagued with images of pinkish-red hair and cherries before he fell back asleep, grateful for the heavy silence that came with it.
The next day, he got up. For three days he had no appetite, but today, the hunger felt like it was stabbing and ripping apart his insides like a sick butcher. Jotaro had no intention of starving himself to death or the like, he knew he needed food and water. He sat up in his bed and took it slow, spending several seconds in each position, like swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and finally standing on his feet. He used his hand as a brace on his bedside table and leaned heavily on it. A wave of dizziness washed over him and his stomach turned. He grit his teeth and kept standing until the swirling went away, before he sluggishly made his way to the small fridge that came with the apartment.
The contents were sparse, but he had bread and lunch meat that was still good sitting in there. He quickly (as quick as he could) made a sandwich and took small bites out of it, lowering to sit on the floor of the kitchen.
Half of it was eaten before he felt the familiar sickness that comes from a starved stomach, and stood up slowly again to throw the rest of it away. The trashcan was almost full. He should take it out soon. His face pulled into a grimace as he leaned against the counter once again.
I can’t take the trash out. I can’t do the dishes. I can’t clean my clothes. I can’t even fucking eat.
I cleaned this place every week, on top of homework and school. Now I can’t even drink out of a clean glass. What happened? What is wrong with me?
He hiccupped a sob and he could feel the weight of tears on his eyelashes, but apathy overtook him again before tears could fall.
No. It’s fine.
What’s the point anyway?
A flash of a man with cherry earrings. Jotaro sighed.
It would be a shame if he came here to meet nobody. I just wish it wasn’t me. But wishing doesn’t change anything.
I have to get my act together. I need to at least pretend I’m functional so he doesn’t worry.
I am functional, I am functional, Noriaki won’t even know about this little lapse. He won’t know a thing and he’ll go home and not worry. That’s all I want.
He got off the counter and made his way to the bed. Before he knew it he was under the covers again, sleep clawing at his brain.
I’ll let myself do this for one more day and then I’ll clean up. For Noriaki.
He closed his eyes.
“A day” turned into two and then turned into three. On the fourth day, Friday, Jotaro got up.
Jotaro brushed his teeth and pissed and wiped himself down with a wet towel, because the thought of trying to shower was too overwhelming. He would probably end up falling asleep on the floor of the bathtub until the water had long turned cold. Something is something, he reasoned. A part of him pulled angrily, telling him he was rancid and disgusting and a wet rag won't clean off the caked layers of sweat and grime. But he ignored it for the time being. He changed into a new pair of boxers.
He did as much as he could around the apartment that didn’t require him to actually leave, which was really just dishes and organizing. He even opened the window to let the place air out, and he turned the air conditioner on. He didn’t want Noriaki to walk into a place that literally smelled like hot garbage, when Noriaki himself was probably wearing an expensive fragrance.
Jotaro missed the way Noriaki smelled. He missed everything about Noriaki, his drawings, the way his stupid little dangly hair piece flopped around, the clack of his cherry earrings, his voice, his gorgeous face… Being around Noriaki was just so easy, like breathing.
Jotaro knows he’s desperately in love with the man, and they’ve shared intimate moments, during and after their trip to Egypt. Chaste kisses and hugs and gently holding each other under a layer of moonlight and sheets. They're the only comfort Jotaro can hold and not feel overwhelmingly guilty about. Jotaro feels on top of the world when he’s with Noriaki, he feels like what everyone seems to believe him to be: the clever, strategizing powerhouse, who is now seemingly academically inclined.
But Jotaro is too scared to label him and Noriaki, and Noriaki dances around the subject in fluid motions. Noriaki never seems to regret what he does with Jotaro, but he also easily hides it in public, and when Polnareff makes fun of them or someone gives them a weird look, he topples their argument with something else. It’s… frustrating. Jotaro would gladly be at Noriaki’s beck and call if Noriaki just told him.
Maybe Noriaki didn’t actually want him. Maybe he’s just doing this to Jotaro to make himself feel better. Maybe he just wants contact but doesn't want commitment. Who would want me anyway? Certainly not someone so bright and promising.
He went to bed after eating half a sandwich again, feeling somewhat accomplished with the drying dishes and less oily body.
He still felt disgusting.
He hopes Noriaki will hold him like he did on those cold Saharan nights. A heater in the Arctic. A comfort in the midst of everything else. He hoped as hard as he could, and fell back asleep.