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“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
It takes a few seconds for Jotaro's brain to register the words, and he hopes that he just imagined that because there's no way Josuke just said that. He stops reading, turning his head to see Josuke, who has been lying beside him on the bed trying to get his attention all night. Is this just another stupid attempt?
“What,” is the only thing he can say, unable to answer the question. Josuke's eyes look wider than before, expectant, as if their entire relationship depended on Jotaro's answer. Maybe it does.
When Josuke speaks, the words come out thin, nearly a whisper. “Does that mean you wouldn’t?”
...Would he?
Jesus Christ.
“No, it—" Jotaro's jaw drops, trying to find the words. "No. It means what the hell are you asking.”
“Oh." Josuke blinks his eyes, deflating. "Hm.”
Then Josuke rolls his eyes, focusing on his gameboy instead and he— he looks offended. Like actually, truly offended. Jotaro has never seen him act like this, not unless it was about someone insulting his hair. Jotaro notices the frown that threatens to creep onto Josuke's face, the way his eyes lose their spark the way they always do when he is dissapointed. Jotaro is still looking at him, completely disoriented, even though it seems that the conversation is no longer interesting to Josuke.
When a few minutes pass and Josuke still has that sad little look on his face, Jotaro sighs.
“Why would you ask that?” He tries, knowing he already lost this battle. Josuke is practically pouting by now, cheeks filled with air, pretending Jotaro doesn't exist.
“Just thinking.” Josuke replies with a shrug, like he's not about to cry because of his stupid question.
“...About?”
“Just thinking, Jotaro, let me go to sleep.” Josuke turns around on the bed, then, his back facing Jotaro. He drops his gameboy on the night-table, his body melting on top of the mattress. With Josuke burying his face on the pillow, the next words come out muffled. “If you really love me.”
It’s probably the stupidest thing he has heard in his entire life. Jotaro turns to look at the ceiling, then, silently asking whatever deity decided to mess with him today what their fucking problem is. Still, he tosses his book aside and shifts his position to hug Josuke from behind, stretching just enough to press a kiss on his cheek. When Josuke doesn't immediately starts giggling and asking Jotaro to stop, he knows he's in trouble.
Might as well.
"What kind of worm would you be?" He asks, putting his seven years of experience playing house with his daughter acting to great use.
Josuke curls into himself further, almost shrugging Jotaro away. It takes a while for him to answer, acting as if he doesn't really care anymore— it's so endearingly obvious that he's forcing his voice to come out nonchalant. "I don't know. A worm."
Work with me here, Josuke, he thinks. "An earthworm? Like the ones you tried to eat when you were a kid?"
It's bait. It's disgusting, cheap bait, and it works— all of a sudden, Josuke turns around, shock and embarrassment written all over his face. "Who— who told you!?"
Jotaro simply smiles, tilting his head just-so to tease Josuke even further. Watching Josuke's face go pink will never not be a victory for him.
Josuke groans. "Yeah, whatever," he ends up saying, puffing out air as he returns to his original position, though Jotaro doesn't miss how Josuke grabs his arm to wrap it around his waist. "Earthworm."
"Would you be tiny like a worm or a Josuke-sized worm?"
He can feel Josuke holding back laughter, though for some reason he still tries to sound indifferent. "What? What are you even asking?"
"It's important for my answer, Josuke." Jotaro replies. It's not, of course, but he's here to indulge Josuke, not to think about what he would do with a 1.85m tall worm and how he'd maintain a stable, healthy relationship with it.
"Okay. Tiny worm, then."
"Tiny worm..." Jotaro pretends to think about it, and for a second (and this is unbearable) he does.
Would it have the same hairstyle as Josuke? Would Jotaro have to carry him around everywhere? Would he still somehow have a blood relation with the worm— Josuke? Is this hypothetical scenario set in a world where not only incest is frowned upon, but also human-worm relationships?
And all these thoughts come with surprisingly detailed flashing images of his life with a worm, of going grocery shopping with it or picking it up from school. He thinks about laying in bed with this worm, cuddling with it, thinks about making it laugh and loving it like no one would ever love it. Such a simple, yet fulfilling life. Slow Sunday evenings with nothing to do but enjoy each other's company, making a home out of each other's hearts. If it were up to Jotaro, he'd make that worm the happiest worm ever, and everything that worm ever wanted, it would have. It would be his worm, and god help anyone who dared disrespect his worm.
And in the bedroom, he would—
"Yeah, I'd still love you." Jotaro answers quickly, before his brain continues to disturb him.
"...Really?"
"Yes. If you were a worm, it would still be you. I'd love you as a worm. I'd love you no matter what form you took."
"Jotaro, I—" Josuke turns around again, gently holds Jotaro's face. His eyes, soft and caring, examine Jotaro's expression to find any hint of a lie. Of course, there is none. There is only love. "I mean, that's sweet. But I don't think I could, to be honest."