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Jotaro rarely had a good day.
Not since awakening his stand—which he initially thought was an evil spirit haunting him—his mother getting deathly ill, having to travel to Egypt, being ambushed by several enemy-stand users almost every day on the way, and on top of it all, killing a century-old, psychotic vampire. All within the time frame of fifty days to save her. And said vampire, who had taken over the body of his deceased great-great-grandfather, was able to stop time.
So, clearly, Jotaro had had better days.
“Jotaro, time to get up!” Mom’s cheerful voice beamed from the kitchen.
An irritated groan squeezed past Jotaro’s lips. He nestled further into the covers of his futon, cuddled closer to his giant dolphin plushie—whom he called Columbo—eyes refusing to open. His alarm hadn’t gone off yet, meaning Jotaro still had a few minutes of sweet sleep left before he actually had to get up and start another gruelling day. Jotaro let out a further groan at the thought, the idea of having to leave the warm covers, sit through several mind-numbing classes with teachers who loved to talk big, and deal with being ambushed on the way to and from school. Good grief, the day hadn’t even started yet, but it couldn’t get any worse.
Streams of the morning sunlight filtered in through the curtains, shining behind Jotaro’s eyelids, which he only squeezed tighter shut. A savoury scent of Mom cooking breakfast wafted through the gap of his shoji door, a gentle sizzling of food buzzing in Jotaro’s ears—it smelt good, but sleep sounded even better.
Just five more minutes.
Suddenly, the shoji door slid open, and the sounds of footsteps approached Jotaro’s futon. He could barely make it out. Was that Mom? Good grief, she rarely came into his room. He still had five minutes—
Then, a small laugh cut through his thoughts.
“My, I didn’t know you still slept with stuffed animals.”
Jotaro’s eyes shot wide open. He shot up from his bed to discover Kakyoin standing over him—dressed in his green gakuran, white scarf draped over his shoulders, school bag in hand, hands on his hips and a small smile overtaking his face. Jotaro didn’t even have enough time to admire his grin, because embarrassment filled him instead.
Since when the hell was he here?
Jotaro rushed to hide Columbo under the covers, but it was too late. Kakyoin had already seen him. A subtle flush coloured his face, steaming in his cheeks as he avoided Kakyoin’s teasing gaze. All Jotaro could blurt out was, “Why are you here?”
Kakyoin slowly raised a brow. “Because we have school?” he let out slowly, like Jotaro was even slower. “We’re gonna be late at this rate, Jotaro. Haven’t you seen the time?”
At that, Jotaro slowly turned his head towards his alarm clock—and his eyes inexplicably widened to discover it was already half-seven.
Jotaro jumped to his feet, stumbling over his sheets as he rummaged through his closet for his school uniform, throwing the clothing onto the floor. How the hell did he miss that? Kakyoin did nothing but watch Jotaro with a bemused grin, a hand pressed against his lips as Jotaro practically rushed to his bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door as he hastily scrubbed at his face and began to brush his teeth.
Kakyoin only leaned against the edge of the wall by the bathroom door. “Oh, and when you’re done, Holly-san told you to come to the kitchen for breakfast,” he reminded.
Good grief, Jotaro didn’t even think he had the time right now to eat breakfast, but he knew how insistent his mother could be when it came to these sorts of things. Jotaro only muttered a sound of reply as he spat out the last of his toothpaste, rinsing off his mouth and toothbrush.
Today wasn’t going well.
A trail of verdant trees lined their path on the way to school, rustling in the gentle breeze of spring. After eating his breakfast, packing his bag for school and begrudgingly letting Mom kiss his cheek goodbye in what had to have been a new world record for speed, Jotaro was finally on his way to school.
While Kakyoin couldn’t stop giggling at the most unnecessary things.
“I didn’t know you still slept with stuffed animals, that’s so cute! Do you have any more? What’s the dolphin’s name?” He flooded Jotaro with a barrage of questions, his violet eyes glimmering with too much excitement for Jotaro’s liking. If Kakyoin raised his voice any higher, Jotaro was sure someone would hear them, and he would kill Kakyoin if that ever happened.
“Keep your voice down,” Jotaro urged, his own voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s none of your business.”
“So, he does have a name!”
Jotaro’s cheeks flushed with the painful embarrassment of earlier this morning—damn it all. If he had actually heard his alarm clock this morning, he would’ve already been up by then and hid Columbo before Kakyoin could see him. Out of all days, Kakyoin had to come over today.
“And I said it’s none of your business,” Jotaro mumbled, pulling the brim of his hat over his expression, but Kakyoin was relentless.
“Oh, come on! You can tell me,” Kakyoin urged, a giggle still evident in his voice. Jotaro only turned his body away.
“No.”
“Please?” Kakyoin tried again.
“Not in a million years.”
Then, Kakyoin was grabbing onto his arm, fingers pressing into his forearm delicately. He pulled Jotaro closer, “Please, Jotaro?” he let out softly, and perhaps Jotaro made the mistake of glancing over because he saw the exact face that had him falling for Kakyoin—gleaming lavender eyes staring up at him, brows softly upturned, and the slightest pout on his roseate lips.
Give me a break.
A long sigh dragged past Jotaro’s lips, glancing away. “His name is Columbo,” he grumbled.
Kakyoin’s face lit up, “From that American detective show you like?”
Jotaro nodded.
A bigger grin broadened Kakyoin’s features; he squeezed Jotaro’s arm tighter. “That’s so cute! I didn’t know you liked the show that much,” he beamed.
Replying with a small grunt, Jotaro only focused on the warmth of Kakyoin’s hand grasping around his arm, his heart racing. Because if he focused on anything he was saying, he would surely explode out of embarrassment. With his face burning and all.
But then Kakyoin was pulling his arm away as quickly as he brought it in, and Jotaro’s arm tingled with the absence of his warmth.
“It’s okay, Jotaro. I still think you’re really cool, albeit cuter,” Kakyoin giggled. Jotaro wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better—or worse—but it was alright. At least he got to hear Kakyoin’s laugh today, which made his day a little better. Even if it meant Jotaro wanted to die in the process.
A soft sigh escaped him. Jotaro pulled his hat even lower over his face, avoiding Kakyoin’s beaming gaze.
This was going to be a long day.
Sitting on the roof, Jotaro held his lunchbox in front of him as he waited for Kakyoin to meet him here. He had his legs crouched up, arms leaning against his knees—watching the clusters of fluffy clouds floating above him in the sky, a flock of birds flying overhead, trailing behind a few leaves twirling in the wind. Jotaro always liked this spot because there was rarely anyone else to disturb him; it was an ideal place to eat lunch as long as the weather allowed it, just like today.
The sound of heavy footsteps disturbed the brief silence, revealing Kakyoin. Out of breath from rushing up the stairs, with his lunchbox in hand, his school bag in the other.
“Sorry!” he let out, chest heaving with a heavy breath. “My class ran a little late, hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”
Jotaro’s heart fluttered a little at the sight of Kakyoin—his scarlet fringe a little messy from running up the stairs, pale face a little flushed and white scarf spilling down his back. Finally, making his morning filled with gruelling classes worth it. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied blankly, and Kakyoin gave him a relieved grin.
“Thank you,” he smiled, taking a seat next to Jotaro, their shoulders touching.
Jotaro swallowed, trying not to focus on the warmth of Kakyoin’s shoulder pressing against him. He untied the furoshiki of his lunchbox before opening it, reaching for a pair of chopsticks he had also packed.
Kakyoin’s eyes widened, “Woah, that looks amazing!” he cried out, “Leave it to Holly-san to pack you a great lunch.”
A soft scoff escaped Jotaro, about to make a dismissive comment, but then he caught how Kakyoin’s widened eyes were glimmering, perhaps, a little too bright, at the sight of his lunch. Jotaro let out a sigh before offering his lunchbox to Kakyoin.
Kakyoin suddenly grew bashful, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly—“
“Take some,” Jotaro urged, holding his lunchbox closer to the other. “She always packs me too much, and besides, you’re drooling.”
This time, Kakyoin’s eyes widened in horror, and he hastily wiped at the corner of his mouth. “Fine, if you insist,” Kakyoin sighed begrudgingly, but he acted anything but as he happily took a few things from Jotaro’s lunchbox, a wide grin across his features.
As they got to eating, they conversed about simple things—the weather, their classes, anything that annoyed them. This was Jotaro’s favourite part of the day, sitting beside Kakyoin, their shoulders pressed against each other, listening to the mellow humming of his voice as he chatted to Jotaro and ate lunch. He could listen to him talk all day. Though it felt odd to suddenly act like teenagers all over again, Jotaro almost forgot how. After a deathly fifty-day trip where their lives were at risk every day, it was a little disconcerting to be able to act his age again and talk about regular things, like they hadn’t almost died.
Jotaro eyed Kakyoin’s jaw, at the too-tight stretch of skin over bone—remembering how withered and lifeless he looked on the hospital bed after Dio had punched a hole through his abdomen. He still hadn’t gained all of the weight back. Jotaro quietly gave him more of his food.
Soon, lunch time was almost over, and Jotaro was packing up his lunchbox, tying it up once more. While Kakyoin had already packed away, standing in front of Jotaro with a hand on his hip as he waited for him. He wore an expectant grin on his expression, which Jotaro rolled his eyes at before standing up as well.
“Could you be any slower?” Kakyoin mused, and Jotaro scoffed in reply.
“I think you’re the only person on earth who wants to get to class early.”
“Hey, I’m not the only one,” Kakyoin defended, and then his voice got quieter. He stepped a little closer to wipe off some lint from Jotaro’s jacket before he quickly glanced around the rooftop. Jotaro’s heart quickened a little, and he quirked a brow, opening his mouth to say something—but then Kakyoin was standing on his tiptoes to press their lips together.
Jotaro’s eyes widened, and his heart fluttered tenfold. So, that was why Kakyoin was urging him to hurry. His arms fumbled for a moment before wrapping around his lover, pulling him closer. While Kakyoin looped both of his arms around Jotaro—holding his school bag behind him—to drag him a little closer towards him to make up for their height difference. Another reason why Jotaro loved having lunch at the rooftop was that he got to kiss Kakyoin during the few moments of the day when they were utterly alone. Jotaro tilted his head slightly into the kiss, his hand delicately pressed against Kakyoin’s back, as Kakyoin’s fingers fiddled with the soft baby hairs dusting Jotaro’s nape. Like they were still getting used to holding each other. Jotaro leaned in even further, trying to capture Kakyoin’s lips for a deeper kiss, but then his lover was pulling away as quickly as he leaned in.
“Mm, that’s enough,” Kakyoin mumbled, wiping his wrist against the corner of his mouth.
Jotaro’s breath was heaving in his chest, his heart hammering against his ribcage as these disgusting, warm, sappy tingles buzzed throughout his entire system. Causing his lips to broaden into an even sappier grin.
Kakyoin messed around with his hair—twirling his spiral fringe around his finger—until he looked decent again, a mighty flush adorning his cheeks. He looked adorable, with his hands falling to the front of his lap. Kakyoin scoffed at Jotaro’s expression.
“Stop smiling like that,” he snapped weakly, though he couldn’t hide the smile in his own voice.
“I’m not,” Jotaro protested even more weakly.
“You are,” Kakyoin insisted, flushing even brighter. “And stop looking at me like that.”
Jotaro didn’t know he was looking at Kakyoin a certain way, but something in his expression must’ve given it away. Jotaro thought he had mastered the art of the poker face—until Kakyoin would show up and suddenly, Jotaro was being way too obvious with the way his heart fluttered at the sight of him, a warm flush rising to his cheeks, muttering words of absolute nonsense while trying to hide his pathetic expression underneath his hat. Clearly, his hat wasn’t doing enough.
“C’mon,” Kakyoin urged, grabbing onto Jotaro’s sleeve. “We need to go.”
As the strongest stand-user who had defeated countless enemies, killed their family’s long-standing enemy, and saved his mother, Jotaro could only let himself be dragged away by his flushed lover.
Jotaro was buzzing the rest of the day.
Perhaps, all he really needed to get through the day was a kiss from Kakyoin. Suddenly, his classes weren’t so disinteresting anymore. Jotaro no longer felt like yelling at the horde of girls who flocked him from class to class, and he was in high spirits by the time he met Kakyoin by the gates outside school at the end of the day.
“Hi,” Kakyoin greeted, a small smile across his face, and Jotaro’s heart skipped a beat.
“Hey,” was all he could manage.
Kakyoin furrowed his brows at him fondly, but began walking out of school with him. They both knew where they were going, to Jotaro’s house, where Kakyoin would presumably spend the rest of the evening before actually going home—it was an unspoken thing between them. Jotaro wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Jotaro, Kakyoin, welcome home!” Mom greeted with a bright grin etched across her features.
“Hello, Holly-san,” Kakyoin greeted, bowing after taking his shoes off. So polite. “Thank you for having me.”
“Oh, it’s no worries!” Mom beamed, “How was school?”
“It was fine, Mom. Let’s go, Kakyoin,” Jotaro muttered out, before he pulled Kakyoin by his sleeve to make their way to his room. Kakyoin let out a gasp, but Jotaro kept rushing him anyway. He had been waiting all day to get Kakyoin alone again since lunch time, and he wasn’t going to wait through another five minutes of Kakyoin greeting his mom, complimenting her hair, and getting way too polite with her—Jotaro simply couldn’t wait any longer.
“Ah—see you later, Holly-san!” Kakyoin tried to call out from the corridor before Jotaro pushed him through the shoji door of his room. Kakyoin let out another gasp, and Jotaro slid the door closed.
“What’s with you today?” Kakyoin quirked a brow.
Jotaro’s gaze fell to the tatami mat. He simply shrugged, sitting down. “You always take too long greeting my mom.”
“It’s called being polite!”
“You’re always polite,” Jotaro retorted, “Just thought to speed things up a little.”
A soft scoff escaped Kakyoin, but he sat down anyway, nudging a little closer towards Jotaro, whose breath hitched a little. Kakyoin’s brow grew higher, but he didn’t say anything, much to Jotaro’s relief. Instead, he reached inside his schoolbag, pulling out his NES. “I brought my games over! We can finally play,” he beamed, and at that, Jotaro’s expression grew a little apprehensive.
This wasn’t going to end well.
“Oh, you’re terrible at this!” Kakyoin giggled, clutching his stomach. Jotaro didn’t even have the time to scoff at him, for he was too busy leaping his sprite over the various obstacles lining his path in Super Mario Bros.
Jotaro mashed at the controller buttons even harder, eyes glaring into the TV monitor, brows furrowed. “Not my—fault, they’re making this game—stupidly difficult,” he grit out. Honestly, Jotaro still had no idea why Kakyoin bothered to bring his video games around whenever he was over, because Jotaro was absolutely terrible at them. Maybe that was all the more reason for him to bring them to watch Jotaro embarrassingly fail at a game designed to stunt children.
Then, his sprite was hit by a Koopa, and the familiar game-over tune rang in his ears. Kakyoin laughed even harder, eyes squeezing shut, before he gathered enough semblance to take the controller from Jotaro.
“Watch how a true expert handles this,” Kakyoin mused. Jotaro resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
This had to have been some wizardry, because the way Kakyoin was cruising through the level Jotaro had spent numerous attempts failing at was nothing short of impressive. Kakyoin’s expression was immersed and focused, his tongue slightly poking out from his lips and his brows adorably furrowed in concentration.
Soon, he had made it to the end of the level, and Kakyoin’s entire face lit up in triumph.
“See, that’s how you do it!” Kakyoin laughed, and Jotaro was so focused on his smile that he forgot he was being made fun of. Kakyoin’s smile was so pretty—it broadened widely across his mouth, creasing into these sharp edges at each corner. His cheeks bunched up at the sides of his face, Jotaro remembered when they were sunken into the bone with little to no fat in the skin when he was at the hospital. If Jotaro was lucky, Kakyoin used to grace him with a weak grin. With a part of his body missing, how could he smile? Now, Kakyoin’s violet eyes crinkled and beamed, such mirth dancing in his lavender gaze that Jotaro wished he could be this happy all the time. His heart skipped a beat.
“You know, you should really learn a thing or two,” Kakyoin continued to laugh, his body wracked with giggles. “But I doubt you’ll ever get as good as me—“
Jotaro pulled Kakyoin in by the waist and pressed their lips together.
Kakyoin’s giggles came to a halt, morphing to a gasp as Jotaro closed the gap between their mouths, kissing him harder. His lashes tickled against Jotaro’s cheeks as Kakyoin fluttered his eyes shut, and his hands slowly trailed upwards to cradle Jotaro’s face in his hands. Crap, he could probably feel how warm Jotaro’s face was getting, but Jotaro would rather die than shove Kakyoin’s hands off of him. His heart fluttered at the warmth of his palms pressing against his face.
Kakyoin pressed long kisses to Jotaro’s lips, stroking a thumb down Jotaro’s cheekbone—until they became shorter and shorter, and then Kakyoin was pulling away.
“What was that for?” Kakyoin let out, but his voice was too fond to have any malice.
Jotaro’s face flushed further; he tried to glance away, but Kakyoin was holding his face in place—Jotaro’s gaze fell between them instead. “Just felt like it,” he muttered.
Kakyoin quirked a brow fondly, “Okay,” he whispered. Then, he took Jotaro’s hat from him and placed it on his head instead. It sat slightly askew with the brim facing to the side, pressing down on his scarlet fringe. Jotaro didn’t stop him, not when Kakyoin looked so stupidly adorable with his hat on. His hand returned to Jotaro’s face.
“Then I also feeling doing this too,” Kakyoin mused, before he pressed their mouths together again.
A soft hum of content escaped Jotaro as he reciprocated eagerly, an arm delicately wrapped around Kakyoin’s waist, pulling him even closer. The sounds of Kakyoin’s console blasting video game music only became a distant melody in the back of Jotaro’s mind as he kissed Kakyoin harder. His skin buzzed from where he Kakyoin’s warmth pressed against him—his lover’s thumbs stroking down his face, leaving gentle tingles in their wake. Jotaro looped his other hand around Kakyoin’s waist, hoisting him onto his lap, and Kakyoin let out a soft gasp of surprise into Jotaro’s mouth, which Jotaro thought was the sweetest sound ever. Jotaro only swallowed the noise with a deeper kiss, coaxing Kakyoin to wrap his legs around his waist as he pulled his lover impossibly closer, arms circling his frame. While Kakyoin’s arms trailed from Jotaro’s face to curl around his neck, his fingers carded through his dark tufts without the obstruction of his hat.
Kakyoin’s lips were always the softest, warm and blissfully pressed against Jotaro’s. He always tasted faintly of lip balm, leaving a hint of sweetness across Jotaro’s own lips whenever he licked them afterwards.
“Mm,” Kakyoin hummed, a slight breathiness to his voice. It startled something in Jotaro’s core. Kakyoin leaned in closer, the brim of Jotaro’s hat bumping against the side of his face, “Jotaro, you—“
“Jotaro!” Mom’s beaming voice pierced through the buzzing silence. Jotaro’s entire body jolted. He jerked his head away from the kiss, eyes wide. “Dinner’s ready, call Kakyoin over too!”
Jotaro’s heart hammered wildly inside his chest, suddenly all too breathless—either from the kiss, or being startled by Mom’s interruption—Kakyoin shared a similar expression. His eyes were wide, staring at Jotaro, then at the door, in growing confusion and shock, before his face slowly relaxed. They were so close that Jotaro could feel Kakyoin’s own heart racing against his chest, his breathy pants fanning against his face, strands of his fringe grazing his cheeks, arms still wrapped around his neck, now clutching his shoulders. Jotaro thought his heart might explode, a mighty flush in his cheeks.
“Um,” Kakyoin let out, voice small. His own flush was so bright—beautifully adorning his cheeks, which made the scars across his eyes stand out all the more. “We should probably go.”
Jotaro blinked and slowly nodded in agreement. A bit of silence.
Kakyoin slowly quirked a brow, “Jotaro?”
“Yeah?” Jotaro’s breath hitched.
“Are you going to let me go anytime soon?”
At that, Jotaro glanced down to discover his arms were still wrapped around his lover, holding him close to his chest. Jotaro’s eyes widened, and his arms fumbled off of Kakyoin, who promptly slid off his lap and stood up.
“Your mom’s waiting, let’s go,” Kakyoin urged, still flushing, and Jotaro nodded once more. He hastily shut off the console still blaring on his monitor before getting up himself, about to stumble out of the door, until—
“Jotaro, wait!”
Jotaro glanced back. What was it now? Then, Kakyoin was taking off his hat, placing it back onto Jotaro’s head. “Your mom’s gonna get suspicious if she sees me wearing your hat,” he grumbled, as if it were obvious. He tipped the brim over Jotaro’s eyes, obstructing his view.
“Ah,” Jotaro let out in response. He fixed his hat atop his head, adjusting the brim, and by the time he was done, Kakyoin had already left. Good grief.
Dinner, as usual, was nothing short of an uproar. Jotaro’s heart was still pulsating inside his chest, rattling against his ribcage, by the time they had made it to the dinner table—he wiped hastily at his lips and cheeks, hoping they weren’t too flushed. Mom never knew how to cook a normal amount of food; instead, the table displayed a wide array of different dishes and side dishes. Not even Jotaro could finish all of this, and he could eat his body weight in food, but maybe this was good for Kakyoin. He still needed to eat more.
“Say, Kakyoin. Are you going to stay the night?” Mom chirped, silently piling more food onto his plate.
Jotaro’s eyes glimmered, widening. He turned to look at Kakyoin with an expectant twinkle in his eye. “Ah,” Kakyoin let out slowly, and then his gaze caught Jotaro’s, and his expression grew a little apprehensive. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude, and I’d have to call my mom—“
“Nonsense! I’ll let her know you’re staying here,” Mom interrupted, a wide grin across her face. “You won’t at all be intruding, Jotaro gets quite lonely here, you know?”
At that, Jotaro flushed crimson. He hid beneath his hat. “Mom,” he mumbled.
Kakyoin’s lips curved into a small grin, “Really, now?”
“Kakyoin,” Jotaro urged, trying to avoid eye contact. “Eat your food,” he replied instead, shoving more food onto his plate with his chopsticks—anything to change the topic.
Kakyoin’s expression remained. He laughed fondly, and Jotaro fought to hide the way his heart fluttered once more at the delightful sound.
“I’ll set your futon in Jotaro’s room after dinner!” Mom said, waving her hand. “It’s always lovely to have you over.”
At that, Kakyoin’s smile turned into a sheepish grin. “Thank you,” he let out softly.
Soon, it was nearing the time Jotaro normally went to bed. Kakyoin had stayed over so many times that it was practically a part of their routine for Mom to set up a spare futon for him in Jotaro’s room. Next to his, as usual.
“Where’s Columbo?” Kakyoin snarked, sat on the futon, and Jotaro scoffed.
“None of your business.” He was in the closet.
A louder giggle erupted from Kakyoin, his shoulders shaking. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt on his lap—which Jotaro let him borrow—falling just to the middle of his thighs. The soft golden glow of the lamp illuminated his room in gentle amber streams, highlighting the gorgeous glint in Kakyoin’s lavender gaze, the shine of his lips. Jotaro eyed him, trying to fight the way his heart stuttered at the sight. Cute.
“Oh, come on! What if he gets lonely?” Kakyoin argued, and Jotaro let out a bigger scoff. He sat next to Kakyoin on the futon.
“He’ll be fine,” he assured, and Kakyoin’s lips contorted into a soft pout.
“You’re too cruel,” he muttered, hands cupping his face, “Throwing out your own flesh and blood like that.”
“He’s not—“ Jotaro began, brows furrowed, before his face relaxed and a long sigh dragged past his lips. This wasn’t worth it. He reached for the lamp, shutting it off, allowing for darkness to surround the room before climbing into the covers. Back turned to Kakyoin. “I’m going to bed. You have your own futon. Goodnight,” he called out, nestling into his pillow.
Jotaro cracked an eye open, hiding his smile at the way Kakyoin gawked at him, letting out a noise of utter offence. Like Jotaro had insulted his mother.
“You—“ Kakyoin gasped, and then he was pushing his pillow right towards Jotaro’s, completely disregarding his own futon as he climbed into the covers behind him.
“Oi,” Jotaro called out, nudging Kakyoin with his elbow. Unable to hide his smile. “I said you have your own futon, why are you here?”
Kakyoin pretended not to hear him, wrapping both his arms and legs around Jotaro from behind—curling his entire body around him, legs tangled with his. “Mm?” he let out, mocking, especially as he nestled his cheek against Jotaro’s shoulder, his long fringe spilling across the expanse.
“I said you have your own futon.”
Still, Kakyoin pretended not to understand him. Like Jotaro was speaking Arabic or something. “Mm, that’s nice,” Kakyoin responded, hoisting his leg over and throwing it over Jotaro’s hip—pulling him impossibly closer. He nestled his face closer, his chin resting on Jotaro’s shoulder as he pressed their cheeks together. Jotaro could feel Kakyoin smiling against him; he hoped Kakyoin couldn’t feel his own grin.
“Noriaki,” Jotaro said.
At that, Kakyoin giggled—it was such a beautiful sound—he held his arms over Jotaro’s chest, palms pressed to his heart. If only he knew how much it beat for him.
“Jotaro,” Kakyoin responded, still grinning.
Jotaro quirked a fond brow, and he slightly glanced over his shoulder. “What’s with you—?” he began, but when Jotaro properly turned his head around, Kakyoin leaned in and kissed him.
Jotaro’s heart grew tenfold. He hummed, and Kakyoin only kept kissing him—albeit the few giggles that had him pulling away briefly—Jotaro turned his body around fully to face his lover. One of Kakyoin’s arms trailed from Jotaro’s back to his arm, lacing their fingers together, and Jotaro had to will every muscle in his body not to melt at the warmth radiating from Kakyoin’s hand to his. Kakyoin squeezed his hand lovingly, and Jotaro’s heart leapt.
“Ah,” Jotaro gasped, unable to properly kiss Kakyoin back through his smiles. Kakyoin kissed his lips in between each grin, and Jotaro let out a frustrated noise. “Nori—“
“Jotaro's using my given name, I must’ve really screwed up this time,” Kakyoin teased, pulling away properly this time. He cupped Jotaro’s face in his hands, caressing his cheeks. “What can I do to make you forgive me?”
“Shut up,” Jotaro bit back, but with zero venom in his tone. Kakyoin pressed another kiss to his lips.
“Make me.”
Jotaro quirked a brow at the challenge, and then he was tipping Kakyoin onto his back—his lover letting out a short cry—before climbing on top of him, knees on either side of his torso. Kakyoin burst into laughter, chuckles wracking his frame, and Jotaro only took that as a further challenge, leaning down, and—
“Hey—ow!” Kakyoin let out, clutching his nose where Jotaro’s face had crashed into. “How did you miss that?”
“It’s dark, I can’t see anything,” Jotaro reasoned, brows furrowed.
At that, Kakyoin let out a soft snort. He sighed, feeling around the air until his hands reached Jotaro’s face. “Here—“ Kakyoin urged, holding his face gently, lowering it closer towards him. “I’ll guide you, come closer,” he told, and Jotaro did so, allowing Kakyoin to bring his face towards him until their lips were blissfully pressed against each other again.
Kakyoin’s hands were so soft. Soft as his thumbs caressed down Jotaro’s cheekbone, and even softer as a hand trailed down to find his own, lacing their fingers once more. Jotaro was careful not to press his entire body weight onto Kakyoin, especially not to his abdomen—he couldn’t help but remember the image of Kakyoin, withered and lifeless on the hospital bed, his hands devoid of all the warmth they once had. Jotaro couldn’t help but treat Kakyoin as if he were still a little fragile. He never believed in a higher power, but Jotaro remembered praying. Sitting by Kakyoin’s hospital bed, head hung low, and hands clasped tightly together, with the high-pitched sounds of the heart monitor capturing Kakyoin’s waning heartbeat ringing in his ears.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Kakyoin breathed against Jotaro, squeezing his palm. Jotaro cracked open an eye—discovering the gentle glow of Hierophant’s glimmering tendrils now wrapping around him.
“Did you know your stand glows in the dark?”
Through the dull glow of Hierophant, Kakyoin rolled his eyes. “No, Jotaro. I didn’t know my stand of seventeen years glows in the dark,” he snarked.
Jotaro scoffed in response, but he couldn’t put enough malice into it because he was so entranced by Kakyoin’s expression. Through the dim light, Jotaro could make out the way Kakyoin’s brows were adorably furrowed, the way his roseate lips—shining from Jotaro’s influence—curled around a soft, uncontrollable smile, his violet eyes staring up at Jotaro with such adoration. Looking as beautiful as he did during those starry nights in Saudi Arabia, where they exchanged secret kisses and hushed laughter while everyone else was asleep. Jotaro didn’t know what else to do except kiss Kakyoin once more.
Hierophant wrapped tighter around Jotaro, winding around his back and curling over his shoulders, and Jotaro squeezed Kakyoin’s palm back through their interlaced hands. Kakyoin gently tipped them back over to their sides, tangling his legs with Jotaro’s and unlinking their fingers to wrap his arms around his back, feeling the ridges of Hierophant Green wrapped around his lover. Jotaro’s eyes began to grow heavy, but he didn’t want to stop kissing Kakyoin. Yet, Kakyoin must’ve noticed something, because he stopped kissing Jotaro’s lips and began to press kisses all over the rest of his face—one to the corner of his mouth, one to his cheek, one to his eyelid, which Jotaro promptly squeezed shut with a soft noise. Kakyoin fondly chuckled.
“Goodnight, Jotaro,” Kakyoin whispered, pressing a warm kiss to Jotaro’s temple. Jotaro let out another soft noise, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.
Maybe, on occasion, Jotaro did have a good day. With Kakyoin warmly pressed against him, arms wrapped tightly around him, and his unfaltering heartbeat pulsating against his chest, it could be good. As Jotaro circled his arms around his lover, burying his face into the warm crook of his neck, inhaling the gentle, floral scent of Kakyoin’s body wash—he couldn’t help but think of the next day ahead. To repeat the actions of the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that.
Jotaro couldn’t wait to do it all over again.