Jotaro grunts as they get to their room and, as Joseph warned, there is only one queen sized bed. His only solace is that Joseph and Polnareff will be dealing with the same predicament. There only being one hotel in a drive-through town makes their room choices limited…
He sighs, setting his bag down on the floor of one side of the mattress, Kakyoin silently taking the other.
Kakyoin digs through his duffel then, likely for his pajama set given the hour, the blue of dusk fading to the purple of night through the window, while Jotaro scans the length of the bed, then himself, considering if his full length will fit. Kakyoin's not the shortest guy either, he muses as he watches Kakyoin return to his full height from his duffel, his pajamas in hand.
Jotaro hums, moving to sit on the bed, only for Hierophant to manifest and gently hold him back by the shoulder.
He jumps, whipping his head up, and Kakyoin smiles, amused, before saying, "Hey, we're gonna sleep there. Try not to lie down on the bed until we're both showered, okay?"
Jotaro grunts. "You've never cared if I shower before sitting down before."
Kakyoin raises a brow, snorting. "We've never shared a bed before." Jotaro shudders, hair rising along the back of his neck. "Come on, I don't want to sleep on dusty sheets." Jotaro grimaces at the description, his skin suddenly itching.
"Don't say it like that..." Jotaro grumbles then, and Kakyoin raises a brow.
Face heating up a bit, Jotaro scowls, crossing his arms. "No."
Kakyoin's brows pinch, gaze scanning over him, and Jotaro squirms. "What, then?"
"Don't act like an idiot," Jotaro tries to bite, but his voice wavers, and Kakyoin's face screws up a bit. Jotaro ducks his head, tugging the brim of his hat down. "Look, I won't sit on the bed until I shower. So you should go first and-"
Kakyoin blinks in Jotaro's periphery, before he snorts. Jotaro whips his head up, embarrassment riding up his spine, making him grit his teeth against its waves.
"What?" He snaps, and Kakyoin just snorts again. "It was weird to say!"
Kakyoin snickers, but his eyes are crinkled with his smile, and some of the anger in Jotaro's chest falters. The embarrassment certainly doesn't, though. "I won't- kehehe, I won't say it again, but why does it bother you so much?" Kakyoin giggles.
Jotaro glares at him, letting out a harsh exhale, before he ducks his head again, adjusting his arms against his chest. "Just... It makes us sound like we're..." his voice gets hushed, almost in a whisper, "... married... or something..."
Kakyoin blinks, lips parting, and some color sinks into his cheeks then, and Jotaro feels a little vindicated.
But then he says, "Jeez, Jojo, you think about us getting married often?" And Jotaro's back to being the reddest in the room, tugging his hat down over his eyes so sharply he almost rips it off.
"Good fucking grief-" Jotaro shakes. "Kakyoin-"
Kakyoin giggles again, and it's such an ugly sound, Jotaro wishes it wouldn't set his blood on fire. But, he supposes, he already feels much too warm, and at least this is a nicer heat than that of embarrassment.
Unfortunately, such a thought only brings some shame into the mix, and Jotaro rolls his eyes viciously at himself.
"Why- why would I think about us getting married?" Jotaro spits out, trying to get away from his thoughts. "We're both men."
Kakyoin raises a brow at him again and Jotaro sort of wishes he would stop doing that, because everything in his body cavity from the top of his chest to the seat of his hips feels like liquid. "It's not legal at home, sure, but people still find ways to get functionally married," Kakyoin says.
Jotaro feels like he's skipped the last step of a stairwell. "Huh?"
Kakyoin studies him for a moment, and Jotaro wishes he would drop it. He wishes for once, Kakyoin would leave well enough alone and shrug, take his shower, and let Jotaro drown out his embarrassment with a cold shower of his own.
Kakyoin's not his friend because he behaves accordingly, though.
"Jotaro... men get married," Kakyoin says. Jotaro sort of wants to take off his coat, with how much he's sweating, but the thought of showing any skin right now makes his heart jump to his throat, so he keeps it on.
"With- with wives," Jotaro agrees, frowning at his own shakiness. What, exactly, is he so nervous about?
Kakyoin tilts his head. "With other men," he clarifies, and for some reason, Jotaro feels a shot of adrenaline.
"How?" Jotaro asks, voice a little too desperate, and he turns then, sick of humiliating himself. He shoves his hand into his pocket, pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, and moves to the window, shoving it open with his free hand and sitting stiffly in an old wooden chair placed nearby, technically going with a desk in the corner.
It’s quiet as Jotaro flips the lip of his carton open and slides a cigarette out. He clicks his lighter to life, brings it to the end of his cig, and inhales. The smoke swirls into his lungs and Jotaro holds onto the burn, trying to will all his embarrassment to join it as he exhales it out, coughing slightly.
He jumps when Kakyoin’s hand is on his shoulder then, whipping his head up. Kakyoin raises his hands in a surrendering gesture, and Jotaro sighs. Eying him, Kakyoin sits down on top of the desk, the old wood creaking underneath his weight.
They stare at one another for a second, and Jotaro takes another drag, spitting his smoke outside the window.
“Does it… bother you?” Kakyoin asks quietly.
Jotaro blinks, turning back to Kakyoin. “What?”
Kakyoin sends him a flat look, but still answers, “Men getting married. To other men.”
Jotaro is shaking his head no before he realizes, and he freezes, gritting his teeth at his own anxiety. “No, I- no.”
Kakyoin stares at him, hard, eyes scraping over every pore in Joaro’s face it feels like, and Jotaro adjusts in his seat, glancing back outside to avoid the ultraviolet of Kakyoin’s gaze. Finally, Kakyoin’s brows pinch, and he leans forward a bit. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Just-” Jotaro shakes his head. What was wrong? What wasn’t wrong? His mom is dying halfway across the world and his soul is a ginormous purple monster of incredible strength, he needs to kill or be killed by the most insane people he’s ever seen, and the boy in front of him makes him so twisted up inside Jotaro’s half convinced he’s developing an acute form of scoliosis. Jotaro sucks in a breath. “I just didn’t know that was… allowed.”
Kakyoin’s brows pinch further. “... Allowed?”
Jotaro sucks in another breath of cigarette smoke instead of clarifying.
Kakyoin stares at him before leaning back again. “Jotaro, you know gay people just… exist?”
“I know-” Jotaro sucks in a breath. “I just-” Am I allowed to look at you like this? Are you allowed to make me feel like this?
Kakyoin tilts his head, and his bang swings, and Jotaro’s fingers twitch, his cigarette nearly slipping out of his hand. He fumbles, catching it, only to hiss and he burns himself with the filter. He shoves the cigarette into his mouth and crosses his arms, glaring at the floor. Kakyoin politely ignores it, but he does bring a hand to his mouth. Jotaro glares at the glossy wooden paneling.
“Jotaro,” Kakyoin prompts, and Jotaro’s shoulders hunch up to his ears, but he glances up at Kakyoin’s face anyway. He wonders when he became so obedient when it came to Kakyoin, and he shudders at the thought. “You know it’s not something that needs permission, right?”
Jotaro twitches. The ash in his throat is making his mouth dry.
“Jotaro,” Kakyoin continues, and Jotaro jerks again, “do you know men can just- love other-?”
“Kakyoin,” Jotaro interrupts, his voice hoarse from the smoke, and Kakyoin stops talking. Jotaro takes a few inhales of his cigarette, his nose burning, before he brings a hand to his mouth and takes it out again. “I just- I never- I never see it?” It sounds juvenile, but Jotaro isn’t sure how else to explain.
Kakyoin’s face softens a little then and Jotaro twitches again, his skin itching. “It’s not really broadcasted, no, but,” Kakyoin shrugs then, leaning back on his palms, and Jotaro tries not to think. “It still happens. People can still meet… and fall in love…” Kakyoin’s cheeks get a little pink then, and Jotaro really tries not to stare, but he’s exhausted and enraptured and scared and he can’t look away. “And even if it’s not… conventional, they can still get their happy endings.” Kakyoin locks eyes with Jotaro then, and Jotaro’s breath hitches in his throat. “And even then… you know you don’t need to get married to be in love? Again, unconventional, but it’s still an option… The love is there either way, just like with a man and woman.”
Kakyoin tilts his head and Jotaro’s starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose, to make his bang swing like that, to make it caress his face and make Jotaro twitch like he’s being electrocuted. “We’ve never been the most conventional people in the first place anyway, huh, Jotaro?” He murmurs, and Jotaro damn near falls out of the chair with how hard he shudders before he stands up, breathing noticeably.
Kakyoin raises a brow, but doesn’t move, and Jotaro feels like this is all entirely unfair. He spits out his cigarette, drops it, and scrapes it into a pile of ash on the hotel floor.
Kakyoin’s wide mouth curls into an amused smirk. “Owner won’t like that.”
Jotaro shrugs. “I’m going to shower,” he says gruffly.
Kakyoin chuckles. “You never answered me, you know.”
Jotaro pauses, glancing at Kakyoin.
Kakyoin smiles lazily. “You think about us getting married often, Jotaro?”
Jotaro slams open the bathroom door and Kakyoin cackles. “I think about you shutting up often,” he snaps over his shoulder, and Kakyoin just snickers, the echo of it following him even as he closes the door.
Jotaro sighs, bracing his hands on the sink as he breathes for a second, looking down at the drain as his guts, fuzzy and warm and swirled up, try to separate and regain their independence again. Kakyoin jumbles him up so bad.
Men can meet… fall in love… Get married, or not… The love is still there either way.
Jotaro shudders. Fucking Kakyoin.
He turns on the shower to the coldest setting he can stand.
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