Chapter Text
Morioh was always a sleepy town from what Rohan could remember from his childhood spent there. The water on the beach was always calm and the breeze that blew through the streets filled the city with a vibrance he could never put into words. Perhaps it was just the side effect of childhood nostalgia, making his memories better than they actually were; or perhaps, it was time for him to return to his roots.
And so return to his roots he did, packing up everything he owned in his condo in Tokyo and moving to a modest house in the countryside. It was every average person’s dream, but Morioh wasn’t the same town he remembered. Rohan couldn’t place a finger on it at first, but he knew something was wrong. No longer was it the lively coastal village he remembered from his youth, but rather a shell of its former self. Something, or rather as Rohan would later come to find out, someone was haunting his beloved home. It wasn't until he met the insufferable Josuke and his mysterious nephew, Jotaro, did Rohan piece together exactly what was corrupting this once quaint town.
The discovery of a serial in his town sent ripples through the stand community in Morioh. Tensions couldn't have been higher knowing a monster was stalking their streets, living amongst them. Months of endless research and investigation had only led to a faceless name and mountains of evidence on par with the stress levels everyone was experiencing.
Yoshikage Kira, the man responsible, was nowhere to be found, and that fact made the situation all the more dire.
The night Rohan found out Kira had changed his face using Aya’s Cinderella, he thought he was going to lose it. That definitely really threw a wrench in their plans. Not only had they lost yet another person, but they were so close to capturing him too. From what Jotaro told him, Kira was just within their reach yet too far at the same time. Damn slippery bastard. All that work he and Jotaro had put into capturing him only for it to come up empty? Rohan was at his wit’s end and made sure to express his frustrations with the recent development in their case.
While he ranted, what took Rohan by surprise is what Jotaro offered him in return—a listening ear. Jotaro didn't talk much, everyone knew that. He was a calm, collected, stoic brick wall of a man who rarely let anyone in. Typically Rohan would find a person like that dull, but if they were as handsome and quiet as Jotaro was, then he supposed he could make an exception.
Before Rohan knew it, hours had passed between the two of them, the paperwork they were looking at ages go laying forgotten on the coffee table of Jotaro’s hotel room.
He should have left then. It was getting late. But when Jotaro offered Rohan whiskey…he couldn't say no. He took the drink. That should have been it. Just a drink with a friend, but things didn't pan out that way. It started small; a lingering gaze, a gentle touch on the knee, the dimming of the lights to “get more comfortable.” One thing led to another, and before Rohan knew it, he was in Jotaro’s bed, forgetting his own name in place of the man on top of him.
The first time was an accident, a drunken mistake that they were both more than willing to forget. By the second and third time, however, it became something else entirely—stress relief. Each time was supposed to be the last, yet, Rohan still found himself on the other side of room 324, eagerly awaiting to be let in. Despite Jotaro’s initial reservations to the whole arrangement they had, it didn’t stop him from letting Rohan in night after night, and tonight would be no different—Rohan would wait and the door would open. It always did.
Standing in the doorway was the broad frame Rohan had writhing under for weeks now. White pants outlined his muscular thighs that tapered up to a narrow waist. The thick black fabric of his turtle neck strained against the width of his chest and shoulders as he moved, making Rohan swoon at every ripple. Before Rohan could even greet the man, he was quickly whisked inside and out of sight of the hallway.
“Did anyone see you?” Jotaro asked as he shut the door behind them, eyeing the peephole as his large hands clumsily fumbled with the locks.
“I'm more cautious than that.” Rohan crossed his arms with a huff as he stood in the entryway. “Give me some credit.”
Piercing blue eyes shot at him from over Jotaro’s shoulder. “In case you forgot, the old man is only a few doors down.”
“And in case you forgot, Mr. Joestar is slightly senile. I doubt he would have even recognized it as me.”
A grumble came from the other man. Though Jotaro would never admit it, Rohan was right, and why wouldn’t he be? It was no secret that Mr. Joestar’s health was subpar at best. It would be nothing to tell a little white lie to the old man if he ever came around asking why he saw Rohan at Jotaro’s doorstep this late at night. It would be a simple case of him "misremembering" and nothing more. And if that didn’t work, well…it was nothing Heaven’s Door couldn’t fix. A quick flick of his pen and their problem would be solved.
Jotaro still stood at the door, his shoulders hunched over as he secured the final locks. Rohan took this as his cue to slink up behind him and coil his hands up to rest against his back. He knew he didn’t have to do this, but anything went for an excuse to touch him.
“Jotaro,” he cooed, rubbing soothing circles into the hard muscle. “You seemed stressed. Want some help with that?”
“Of course I’m stressed. We still haven’t gotten any closer to catching Kira.” Jotaro sighed, the tension in his shoulders not giving way no matter how hard Rohan kneaded. “I don’t think I can look at another file tonight.”
“Then let’s not.”
“Isn’t that why you came over?” Disappointedly, Jotaro shook off Rohan’s hands as he turned to face him. “To ‘review documents?’” His stoic face was as annoyingly neutral as it always was, yet the comment was meant to be a joke. A rather dry one at that.
Rohan chuckled and shook his head. As if they had actually gotten any work done together the past few weeks. “Reviewing documents” is just what they referred to their meetups in front of Josuke and the others. It was discrete, a set of words with a double meaning that only he and Jotaro knew. A whole language meant only for them. The thought alone of them sharing such a secret only made the arrangement all the more erotic.
“Of course.” Jotaro wanted to play coy? Rohan can do it right back. A teasing hand ran up to smooth out the already flawless fabric of Jotaro’s turtle neck. The intense heat that could be felt just below his fingertips had him already yearning for less fabric and more touching. “What else would we do?” He leaned up and nuzzled into Jotaro’s neck, planting kisses along goose pimpled skin.
Just as Jotaro was about to pull him in by the waist, Rohan pulled away, leaving him in the doorway as he walked further in the suite. He couldn’t help but notice the way Jotaro’s eyes lingered over the sway in his hips, the crop top he chose to wear leaving little to the imagination as he began to strip it off over his head. The lights were dim, much too dim to expect them to get any actual work done. Given the sultry ambience that had overcast the room, Jotaro had been expecting him.
“Well…” Rohan nodded in the direction of the suite’s bedroom. “Shall we—what did you call it?—review some documents?”
Jotaro’s displayed eagerness once he was given the greenlight never failed to get a smirk out of Rohan. He was never one for words, but rather, actions, and the action of him summoning Star Platinum to throw him onto his bed was all Rohan needed to see to know one thing—Jotaro wanted him.
Quickly joining him, Jotaro climbed atop Rohan and went for his neck as the first point of attack, nipping and biting small purple buds of bruises along the delicate skin. Before, Rohan had taken Jotaro to be a secret romantic during his intimate moments, but the first several nights with him had proven otherwise. Sex with Jotaro was primal. There was no romance to be found. There wasn’t any time for it. There was only time for heat, lust, and a quick fuck before Rohan found himself walking back home, preferably with a limp. That was their arrangement, one that they were both satisfied with.
Without a word, Jotaro masterfully worked at removing Rohan’s pants, one of his large hands fiddling with the buckle while the other reached up to toy with a nipple. Rohan couldn’t help but throw his head back in a moan as he helped kick his pants off, leaving him unequally naked on the bed.
“This is hardly fair,” he teased as he trailed a hand up Jotaro’s side. “You’re still fully dressed.”
“That can be changed,” Jotaro answered earnestly as he sat up to tear his turtleneck up and over his head. That shirt was one of Rohan’s favorite outfits to see Jotaro in, but seeing him without it was always quite the sight.
“That’s a start.” Rohan smirked as he worked at undoing one of Jotaro’s belts. Who the hell needed two belts anyway? Apparently Jotaro Kujo did. Damn bastard always had his dick under lock and key. Finally managing to undo the second one, the thick cock that had been hiding beneath them sprang out, taking Rohan’s breath along with it.
“Much better,” he cooed softly, giving Jotaro’s cock a few languid strokes. He salivated at the sight of the perfect cock, watching with half lidded eyes as the tip vanished and reappeared within his clenched palm. God, everything about it was perfect; the heat, the weight of it in his hand, the vein that ran along the bottom of the shaft. Rohan couldn’t wait to have it inside him.
The larger man shuddered above him, biting his bottom lip as he canted his hips deeper into his fist. Rohan purred with delight at the erotic sight. Jotaro wanted him as much as Rohan did him. Just as he picked up his pace, a ghostly purple glove clasped over his wrist and flung him backwards, pinning both his arms above his head. What a shame, if Star Platinum hadn’t stopped him so prematurely, Rohan would have loved to tease him some more.
“Enough,” Jotaro panted as he resumed his predatory position above him. Instinctually, Rohan spread his legs apart wider to accommodate for his lover’s size. The intense heat coming from between their flush bodies had Rohan hiss in pleasure as he wrapped his legs around Jotaro’s waist, pulling him in as close as possible. He knew it was already skin on skin, but, God, he wished he could get closer. He wanted it hotter. He wanted it scorching. He wanted to be burned.
“Did you already prepare?” Jotaro asked, his voice low and husky with desire as he teased Rohan’s entrance with the tip.
Rohan nodded. Of course he had prepared beforehand. He wasn’t an idiot. Jotaro was much too big to not prepare ahead of time. Gently, he dipped the tip of his cock in and out of his already slick entrance, seemingly testing if Rohan was telling the truth. He was.
Rohan bit back a moan at the sensation, the subtle stretch he was feeling from just the tip already making his toes curl. He would have fucked himself onto Jotaro’s cock, but the tight grip Star Platinum had on his wrists held him firmly in place.
“Just fuck me already,” Rohan ordered between pants as Jotaro continued to prod at his entrance.
The corner of Jotaro’s lips ticked up in a slight smirk. “What do you think I’m trying to do?”
Tease the ever loving fuck out of him apparently. Rohan struggled against Star Platinum’s iron clad grip, but Jotaro wasn’t letting him free so soon. He couldn’t take it anymore. Using his legs, he impatiently pulled Jotaro down further on top of him, making him hiss as his cock was pulled deeper into Rohan. Before any more of the head could slip in, Jotaro pulled away, but only for a moment to retrieve lube off the night stand.
“Fine,” Jotaro hissed as he covered his cock in lube and lined himself back up with the all too eager hole. “If you’re going to be so damn impatient, I’ll give you what you want."
Wordlessly, Rohan opened his legs up wider, desperate to be filled as he felt Jotaro begin to push in with a groan. With a single hard thrust, Jotaro had almost filled him completely. Rohan nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion, but knew he couldn’t. Not when there were so many people around them in these paper thin walls. It hurt. It hurt so bad yet the pain quickly melted to pleasure as Jotaro pushed on deeper.
“Fuck—” Large hands gripped around Rohan’s waist to pull him in until Jotaro was flush against his ass, grinding against it once they were completely connected. Without much time to adjust, Jotaro began to move in deep thrusts as he rutted against him, groaning louder with each one. “God, you’re still so tight. You feel so good.”
Rohan couldn’t agree more, though “good” would be an understatement. He felt fucking fantastic. Every thrust Jotaro did ripped through him with animalistic force, searing his insides as he used him as his own personal fleshlight. Using his hands, Jotaro leveraged Rohan’s thighs and bent them, folding him in on himself for deeper thrusts. The new depth and angle had Rohan seeing stars as his vision blurred. Empty hands above his head clasped aimlessly in search of something to grab onto.
“J–Jotaro…” He sobbed between broken moans. “Please—let me touch you.” Hot tears welled in the corners of his eyes as he begged. He was slipping and fast. He needed something strong to hold onto. He needed Jotaro.
Rohan flexed his wrists, signaling to Jotaro what he meant. The second Star Platinum’s hands disappeared, his hands flew to claw at any piece of Jotaro they could grab. His muscled back, his disheveled hair, anything that allowed Rohan to grab or pull as the already frantic pace only increased.
“O–Oh yes!” Rohan clenched around Jotaro’s punishing cock, crying out in pleasure as he was relentlessly fucked into. The pace was deliciously brutal, tearing him apart with every thrust, but as brutal as it was, he loved every second of it. The raw strength of being slammed into him only had that familiar molten coil building up at the base of his stomach. “F–Fuck yes! Jotaro! Right there!”
To the best of his ability, Rohan rocked back into his lover as Jotaro buried his face into the crook of his neck. Hot breath stuck to his skin as Jotaro marked his claim, kissing and biting hard in time with his thrusts.
Rohan wished he could capture this moment in time forever. Everything was perfect. The fierceness. The heat. The sweat. It was everything Rohan had ever wanted and more, and the sound of Jotaro moaning in his ear? Absolute. Bliss. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of hearing Jotaro coming undone. His shaky breaths. The way his voice went an octave lower would shiver down his spine. Thrust after thrust, Rohan teetered dangerously close to the edge of absolute pleasure. He just needed a little more and then—
“N–Noriaki—”
Rohan froze, the once tightly wound coil in his lower stomach unfurling into nothing. Maybe he had misheard, he thought, but Jotaro hastily proved him wrong with another haughty moan in his ear.
“Noriaki…”
“What?”
Jotaro clamped his mouth shut as he realized the fatal mistake he had made and stopped moving. Wide eyed, he retreated from the safety of Rohan’s neck and looked down at his furious lover who was growing more and more angry the longer Jotaro looked at him in disbelief, like he had been the one to say the wrong name. Twice.
“Who the hell is that?” Rohan sneered from the lack of an answer. Jotaro had been doing so good too, fucking him like he was, and he had to go and ruin it like that?
“No one.” Jotaro hesitantly began to move his hips again as he lied through his teeth. Rohan fought back the urge to moan.
“D-Don’t just pretend like that didn’t happen!” Rohan jeered at him from his position beneath him as he attempted to push off the larger man. “Get off me!”
Jotaro listened and sat up, pulling out his half limp excuse of a hard on as he sat on the back of his heels. Rohan scoffed in a poor attempt to hide his laugh at the weary sight between his legs.
“Unbelievable…”
“Look…” Jotaro looked down and rubbed a tired hand over his face as if he couldn't believe what was happening. “Just give me a couple minutes—”
“Sure, I'll give you a couple minutes,” Rohan sardonically said as he turned on his side facing away from him. “I can be whoever you want me to be then.”
“That—” Jotaro paused and looked down at himself, ashamed. “That was an accident.”
“An accident?” Their first night together was an accident, but a happy one that they both fell into. No, this was not just a simple accident, it was a grave error. “You called me the wrong name. Twice I might add.” Rohan narrowed his eyes. “Who else are you fucking?”
“Seriously?” Jotaro groaned. “We’re not exclusive. What does that matter?”
“Considering you were just in me, I would think it matters quite a lot.” Rohan sat up against the headboard, crossing his arms to glare at the man he was just under. “Or are there just too many to count?”
With an ocean of bed between them, Rohan had never seen Jotaro look so small before. He would have felt pity for the man if he wasn't so furious.
Jotaro shook his head and averted his gaze as he answered. “There's no one else.”
Bullshit. If that was true, Jotaro would have the decency to look him in the eye.
“You're lying.”
“Rohan, I am not—”
“So you’re saying Noriaki was just a figment of my imagination?”
The use of that name set something off in Jotaro.
“Don't—” His eyes snapped back to Rohan, the deep blues of them filled with a silent rage. “Don't you dare say his name. You haven't earned it.”
“I can say it all I want.” Who was Jotaro to think he could control what Rohan said or didn't say? “Noriaki, Noriaki, No—”
“Rohan.” Jotaro clenched at the sheets by his side, his knuckles white from the grip. “I’m going to give you two options; we continue and you drop what I said, or you leave.”
Rohan scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”
Oh, but Jotaro was. The spinechilling glower Rohan was receiving was evident enough of that. Jotaro was right. They weren’t exclusive. Even if Jotaro was the only man Rohan was sleeping with, it’s not like he was expecting anything serious to come out of this arrangement. Though…it would have been nice if maybe—no. Rohan couldn’t think like that. Thinking hopelessly like that was for fools, and Rohan Kishibe was no fool. He knew the kind of man Jotaro Kujo was and what the unofficial terms of their relationship was; they would meet up discreetly, fuck for hours, and go their merry ways at the end of the night. It was like that with every closeted man Rohan had slept with. It was a win-win for both parties involved, so what was he getting so worked up for?
With a grumble, Rohan agreed, rolling himself onto his stomach with his pride barely intact. Despite his decision to stay, he couldn’t bear to look at him after knowing who Jotaro was really thinking about. One look and what was left of his pride would crumble. Perhaps Jotaro was secretly relieved at the new position as well; not looking at Rohan either will help him imagine this “Noriaki” all the better.
A few still minutes pass before Rohan feels the steady pressure of Jotaro gliding back in, but all the heat he previously felt was gone. Instead of the fervor that Rohan had felt before, it was detached. Loveless. Cold. Without the heat, all that remained were the monotonous thrusts that carried both of them to an underwhelming climax.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
After a disappointing session, Rohan found himself sitting up in Jotaro’s bed hours later, restless as all hell and fiddling with his hands.
What was he even still doing here?
Their arrangement for the night had been completed. They both came and had already washed up. Jotaro had fallen asleep ages ago. There was no real reason for him to still be here. He was free to go, and yet, here Rohan was, laying next to the man who only a few hours ago wounded his pride. A weird mixture of shame and embarrassment curdled in his stomach, aging like sour milk on a summer’s day. All this because of a stupid name.
“N–Noriaki—”
Rohan could still hear the vulnerability wavering in Jotaro’s voice as he uttered this man’s name. In the moment, he revered it like a prayer, a solemn vow only meant for Jotaro and Noriaki that Rohan interrupted. Rohan groaned into his hands in defeat. Who the hell was this guy? Another secret lover of his? Even after the initial incident, Jotaro refused to answer any of his questions. Rohan didn’t even know why he tried in the first place. Jotaro would never open up to him. He never opened up to anyone.
That was…he would never open up willingly to anyone.
Rohan looked down at the sleeping man to his side, his fingers itching at the idea.
He shouldn't. He really shouldn’t, and yet…he found himself summoning his stand anyway. With a quick flick of its wrist and a faint glow, half of Jotaro's face opened into paper, exposing his life’s secrets on every page. Once he started reading the first page, Rohan found it hard to contain himself. Finally, he would know the real Jotaro, not the front he puts on for the world.
For what felt like hours, Rohan scoured Jotaro’s memories, frantically thumbing through pages upon pages of his life only to be left disappointed. From the first couple pages, it seemed until Morioh, Jotaro’s life was relatively normal, well, if you count having an estranged wife and young daughter as normal. As he dug deeper, the separation was disappointingly normal too with “irreconcilable differences” being the reason given in court, but Rohan knew it was much more than that. Jotaro didn’t love his wife. He never did. He only married her for the sake of appearances.
Rohan sighed for the poor woman, but he could have seen that coming from a mile away. It was hard enough being gay this day in age, let alone being closeted. That was why it was imperative that their whole affair remains exactly that. An affair. A secret. While Rohan had the luxury of being open in Morioh, given how Jotaro had a cover family, Rohan doubted that he had the same luxury back in America.
Divorce aside, Rohan pressed on, delving further into the past as he read all about Jotaro’s experience through university, the first time he held his daughter, and even the first time he met his now ex wife. Yes, yes, that was all well and good, but Rohan still wasn’t satisfied. The one name he was searching so desperately for still eluded him.
Rohan had lost count of how many pages he parsed through, but just as he turned the next one, his breath caught in his throat as he read the ink black text that was stamped in bold kanji across the page.
Noriaki Kakyoin.
Rohan’s heart dropped in his chest. There he was. The man that had ensnared Jotaro’s heart.
Well, maybe not necessarily a man, but rather a boy. Rohan had expected a man, but beside the printed name was a picture of a kid no older than seventeen with striking features. Tall, lean, and easy on the eyes, he was quite pretty for a kid his age with his narrow eyes and androgynous face. From the mess of hair alone, Rohan could already tell he had gone pretty far back into the past. The back mullet and prominent bang this guy was sporting was so outdated, it hurt Rohan to look at. And he thought Josuke’s ridiculous hair was bad.
Seeing what he now dubbed as his competition, a sudden spark of rage ignited in Rohan’s gut as he stared back up at the teen in the photograph. This is who Jotaro was thinking of? What did this kid have that Rohan didn’t? He had to read more to find out.
He started from the beginning in late 1988. A delinquent in his own right, Jotaro seemed quite intimidating at seventeen compared to how he was now. He was still hot tempered, yes, but it seemed age had stifled those flames over the years.
“Fascinating…”
Now, this was interesting. Not the family drabble that was before.
Delicately thumbing the crevices between the pages, Rohan practically shivered with delight as he read on. From the first time he had awakened Star Platinum to his intense fight with this Avdol character Rohan wasn’t too interested in at the moment.
Then, he got to the section about Noriaki.
Their “happenstance” of a meeting on the school stairway followed by the fight that happened soon after sounded straight out of a shonen manga. Rohan read in rapt awe over Jotaro’s innate ability to control Star Platinum so soon after awakening it. It took Rohan weeks to get a handle on Heaven’s Door when he first obtained the ability, so Star Platinum coming as second nature to him was impressive indeed.
Even more astonishing than that was that for Jotaro, despite Noriaki trying to kill him the day they first met, it was love at first sight. Rohan found that hard to believe, but he did suppose young love made people do stupid things like risk their life to remove a fleshbud. From that day, every page was filled with the whirlwind fifty day adventure from Tokyo to Cairo.
The stories of the stands they fought were incredible; a man that could perfectly replicate anyone or anything. A cursed sword that possessed all those who unsheathed it. A man who bet on the souls of cursed gamblers. It was all so fascinating. Rohan found he couldn’t turn away, but amongst these epic tales of Jotaro’s travels were tales of softer times; the way Noriaki’s hair would shine under the sun. The way his eyes lit up with Sting came on the radio. The way Noriaki’s lips felt against his in the dark of their hotel room.
To Jotaro, Noriaki was his first…everything. His first crush. His first kiss. His first time. In a span of fifty days, Jotaro and Noriaki found solace in each other as the world around them tried to tear them apart, and they almost won. Until they didn’t.
Noriaki Kakyoin dies — January 16th, 1989
A gut wrenching twist of the knife churned in Rohan’s already uneasy stomach. Suddenly it all made sense. The walls Jotaro had built up, his unease with getting close to people. Jotaro didn’t want a repeat of what happened to Noriaki to happen to anyone else. He had already lost one person he loved the most in this world, he couldn’t afford to lose another.
With a heavy heart, Rohan read on. For over a decade now, Jotaro had suffered in silence over the loss of his first love. Who could he tell? His mother? She may have understood, but him returning to Japan with Mr. Joestar was not supposed to be about them. Their return home was all about her and he didn’t want to burden her with his troubles, not after she had just started feeling better.
Noriaki Kakyoin didn’t just die on January 16th, but a piece of Jotaro did as well. A part of him forever lost in the streets of Cairo.
Rohan sat back against the headboard, stunned at what he had just discovered. He had no idea about any of this, but now that he knew what he did, he couldn’t help but feel bad for Jotaro. He was only seventeen when life had been cruel to him. Only seventeen when he lost the first and only love of his life. With odds like that, Jotaro didn’t even stand a chance for a second chance at love. His love story had already happened. It was just snuffed out too soon.
A decade of heartache for fifty days of happiness. Was it worth it? Rohan sure hoped so.
Even laying there now, Jotaro’s brows still furrowed in his sleep. Rohan just sighed, now seeing the expression as one of sadness rather than stoicism. He wished he could take away all the pain from him.
Wait…maybe he could.
It was a selfish thought, but it wasn’t just for him. Jotaro had been suffering for over a decade from the loss of Noriaki. If anything Rohan was doing him a favor. His stand’s pen hovered over the paper for a second. Four words. Four little words was all he needed to write and Jotaro would be free. Jotaro would be his—
Noriaki Kakyoin never existed.
Rohan watched with a small gasp as the ink on the page faded to nothing. Between the newspaper font stamped on the page, large gaps of blank space stood out against the remaining black ink.
There. The deed had been done and the problem had been solved. Carefully, Rohan shut the pages back on Jotaro’s face, the finality of his actions fading as quickly as the page line on Jotaro’s cheek did. With a faint glow, his skin had been restored to its previous state, leaving Jotaro laying there as if he was in a pleasant dream.
He looked so handsome laying there like he was; his dark hair a mess, his heavy scowl unfurled and relaxed. For once, Jotaro didn’t bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. Without thinking, Rohan reached out for his face. He had to—needed to—touch him. Even if Jotaro woke up and punched him, it would have made it worth it.
Using his index finger, Rohan gently tucked strands of loose black hair away from his lover’s forehead and back towards the rest of his hair. Jotaro’s hair wasn’t as long as it used to be a decade ago, but it had the potential to be just as wild. Between his fingers, strands of inken black ribbons fell as he continued to play with his hair, and Rohan couldn’t help but smile. Jotaro was still asleep. Might as well be affectionate while he could.
That was until Jotaro let out a small grumble as his brow twitched. Rohan quickly retracted his hand, hoping it went unnoticed as the sleeping giant beside him stirred. With a groan, he cracked open his eyes, slivers of teal peaking out between his narrowed lids. Coming to reality a bit more, he flashed his eyes up at Rohan and held his gaze.
“Hey, you.” Jotaro murmured before smiling—actually smiling—at him. Rohan was stunned. He had known Jotaro for a while now and never once in that time did he see him smile. It was almost like he didn’t know how to; yet, shining down from below him was something he once thought was impossible.
“H–Hey…” Rohan managed to spurt out, his brain still going too fast for his mouth to catch up. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Not at all.” A delicate hand came up to brush some loose hair out of Rohan’s face, making him flush from the simplest of touches. This Jotaro was…gentler too? What else about Jotaro died the day Noriaki did? He glanced down towards Rohan’s half sitting up position. “Where are you going?”
“I was, um…” Rohan tapped a finger on his lover’s chest. “I was just leaving.”
“Leaving?” Jotaro cocked his head and wrapped an arm around Rohan’s waist. “You just got here.”
Rohan yelped as he was quickly pulled down on top of him. “J-Jotaro!” He squirmed beneath his grasp, shocked at the suddenness of it. “Really! I should go!” As he tried to get up, he was pulled back down into the warm embrace below.
“It's late,” Jotaro murmured into the curve of his neck, the same curve he had muttered that offensive name into. “Just stay here.”
Rohan stopped squirming and looked down at his lover in shock.
“Stay…here?” That was one line that he and Jotaro had never crossed. No matter what, neither of them were to stay overnight. It was an unspoken rule for both of them to keep up this little facade. “What about Mr. Joestar?”
“The old man?” Jotaro chuckled a warm and syrupy laugh that Rohan wanted to eat up. “He wouldn't be able to tell it was you even if he had his glasses on. We'll be fine, so I'm asking again—” His hand came up to cup Rohan’s face. “Will you stay?”
That settled it. This definitely wasn’t the Jotaro he knew. The Jotaro he knew wouldn’t be so unabashedly affectionate. But as much as Rohan wanted to fight it, he found himself melting under the tender touch he had found himself craving for weeks. For the first time, Jotaro wanted him, actually, genuinely, wanted him and who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Against his better judgement, Rohan nodded.
“Okay…” he whispered, their noses now touching. “I'll stay.”
Another beautiful smile beamed down from below, shining all the up as Jotaro brought their lips together. Rohan's lips tingled at the contact in what was their first kiss. It was crazy to think that after all these weeks, they had never kissed, but that was yet another line neither of them were willing to cross until recently; and Rohan was so glad that they did. Jotaro tasted like heaven, a wonderful concoction of nicotine and coffee that left Rohan feeling addicted to the taste of his tongue.
In a swift move, Jotaro rolled over on top of him, kissing him deeply before making love to him like he was the only man that had ever mattered. Rohan had never been happier, and for the first time in over a decade, it seemed Jotaro was too.