hierophany | Inbox

You’re the one who picked it. You can’t just back out now.

[ It’s good, being disagreeable about shit that doesn’t matter. It’s good to sulk because Jotaro Kujo isn’t following his script. Doesn’t seem to realise there is a script. Probably doesn’t know what a script is. It feels normal. Makes all of this normal. ]

Pick something better if you don’t like it.

What's better than "Kakyoin"?

[Without really meaning to, his mouth opens a fraction, his lips pulling thinner as they stretch to bare his fangs to the air. It's an odd reflex almost reminiscent of a deep stretch or a satisfying yawn — something he does instinctively, testing the newness of the feeling in his mouth.]

It's who you are. Why would I pick anything different?

[ It should bother him, the fang thing. It’s one of those things that universal human experience should force him to read as danger, to say nothing of personal experience. It should be encoded into his dna to see things with fangs and think ‘no, that’s a bad thing’. At the very least he should have learned it. With Adrian he was distracted by something like scientific curiosity, watching how he moved his mouth when speaking or eating to compensate for their presence.

With Jotaro, he’s just too fucking floored by how stupid and earnest that was. ]

Maybe I want something that you made.

Edited (My phone decided the tag was done early) 2020-07-01 22:50 (UTC)

[He thinks a minute, still absently working his mouth. He'd bite his lip if it weren't for the fact that he's already learned the hard way — a few times — what happens when he indulges that particular bad habit these days.]

...Then. I should make sure I pick something good. Not just the first thing that comes to mind.

Fair enough. Take all the time you need.

[ He wraps a curl around one finger. It’s as close to doing something absentmindedly as he is capable of getting, which is to say that he’s not very close to that at all.

And he falls quiet, because the back and forth teasing is nice and makes everything seem normal and real, but the quiet is the warm, sleepy, comfortable and safe sort of heavy. It’s a quality he’s only ever known silence to have a few times. All on their journey. On the better nights. He inches forward until his knees are brushing against Jotaro’s head, still stroking his hair, heartbeat slow and perfectly even, like it’s rehearsed its lines as carefully as the rest of him.. ]

[If he reached out, right now, his hand would be close enough to brush up against Kakyoin's stomach. It's covered a little oddly by the backwards shirt, both because of the wings and because he's absolutely certain that Kakyoin doesn't want anyone seeing his stomach bare right now. But still, there's that compulsion to touch anyway — just to brush his fingers over the plane of his abdomen, to feel it whole, to reassure himself of something he can't even explain.

But it's better, he thinks, to just let Kakyoin touch him instead. Better to stay still, even if it crosses his mind that it might be more comfortable for Kakyoin and his wings if he were able to stretch out on his stomach, and how easy it would be to roll onto his back and pull Kakyoin on top of him and just be reassured by his weight that he's there and alive and not dead.

It's only a thought. One he's never going to act on. It's fine.

He lets out a breath, and it seems to deflate him somehow, softening all his edges like chocolate melting under heat.]

Nori.

[Nah. It still sounds stupid, even as he says it. But that's okay, too.]

I like it.

[ He wouldn’t, were it anyone else. Not just because of stupid sentimental reasons. But because of other, unrelated stupid sentimental reasons. It’s not because it’s just something Jotaro chose. It’s because Jotaro Kujo is the single person most capable of thinking through problems on his feet that he has ever known. Including himself, some days. And yet the second anyone applies the slightest bit of pressure to think of something to say-

It’s because it’s something that Jotaro chose while being intensely bad at deciding these sorts of things. And because every time he makes him use the name he’ll be thinking about how stupid it is. It’s fifty days of teasing him about his awful one-liners packed into two too-cutesy syllables.

He loves it. ]

Look up. Just for a moment.

...Wait, I wasn't...

[Except he did, kind of. Without meaning to, he just sort of did. And against all odds, Kakyoin seems to like it.

There's no point in fighting it. It's already done, mostly by accident, born solely of idle absent impulse.

That seems to happen a lot, with Kakyoin.]

You hated it a minute ago. Fickle bastard.

[But he looks up anyway, all tousled curls and half-lidded eyes.]

I’m allowed to change my mind. And I didn’t know you hated it, before.

[ And yes, also he is a fickle bastard.

But he’s also a smiling bastard, when Jotaro looks up. He’s still angry. He’ll still be angry the second this ends. But Dio isn’t here and Jotaro is and for now, just for now, he can be soft smiles and mostly-closed eyes and ears still flushed red even as the rest of his face refuses to take on colour.

But he didn’t ask Jotaro to look up in order to demonstrate happiness at him, mostly because it would first need to occur to him that seeing him happy might be a priority to Jotaro. No, he asked him to look up so he can shuffle forward just a little further, tucking his knees under his head. ]

...?

[Hey, wait a minute, now he can't put his head back down, Kakyoin's knees are in the way.

...

......

.........

Oh.]

...Mm.

[So, carefully, he puts his head back down, and it's nice to have his neck on a pillowed angle instead of parallel with the cushions, and he fits his lips closed around his fangs and he just breathes.]

Listen.

[He's quiet, for a spell, but the silence isn't what he wants Kakyoin to listen to.]

...I really...want you to be happy.

I am. Right now, I am.

[ -tomorrow he’ll be so mad that he runs out of things to clean here and has to break into other people’s places to do chores. ]

I’ll work on managing it a little more often.

S'not what I meant.

[Is he a vampire, or is he a content and sleepy pet dog? It'd be hard to tell the difference at this point, from the way he's acting.]

I mean...I want this place to make you happy. Being here. Want it to be happy for you.

You're here.

[ That is, every script he's ever made says, a nonsensical response. But its also the truest one he could ever make. He combs his fingers through Jotaro's hair a few more times, waiting for the feeling of dread from saying the wrong thing to sink in. It doesn't. He presses his fingertips into his scalp once it becomes clear that he isn't going to feel afraid or apprehensive or anything but the overwhelming sensation of adoration smothering anger. Rubs five little circles into it. ]

I didn't think I knew. How to be happy, I mean. But I've been starting to figure it out lately. It's more like learning a language than learning anything else. You have to experience it to really understand the intricacies. You need someone to speak it with you.

Inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject