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in your sexy neon smokescreen

Summary:

At first glance, the ginger is barely anything to worry about, but being stuck with him for almost two months, Jotaro is well aware of some of the things that go through his head.

Kakyoin plucks the cherry from his tongue by the stem to talk. "You look uncomfortable."

Notes:

here is a fic inspired by the first verse of vanity fair by mr. bungle. it's silly. they're goofy lads. i love jotakak. i'm still sorry about writing pink cigarette lmfao

one day i'll start calking him noriaki. one day.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

At first glance, Jotaro thought Kakyoin was merely some poor schmuck who got mixed up in the wrong crowd. He seemed normal, if not downright weak, yet he knew those assumptions were misplaced the second he felt the urge to save his life.

Now, here they are, on the plane back to Japan, and he's only proving more and more what an oddity he truly is.

Kakyoin is unusual to say the least. Jotaro has found something undeniably unique with him, for one thing. Each time he looks at the other boy sitting next to him, he feels himself swallow hard and want to cry. Perhaps that's partially due to the fact he may never get a good night's sleep again, after all the things they've endured together. Jotaro feels as though he's gone insane, but the way he feels towards Kakyoin only drives that home. It's ridiculous, and unwise, and it will end in both of them hurting one day, but he can only describe what he feels for him as love.

He supposes the way he assaults cherries instead of eating them like a normal person doesn't do any harm (to anything other than Jotaro's self-restraint, at least), but it's certainly another, more lighthearted quirk. And because it doesn't involve Jotaro's personal feelings at all, he focuses on that.

Which is conveniently easy, for Kakyoin has been working his way through a small box of cherries for the past ten minutes. The glances from the couple across the aisle from them are hilarious. It makes Jotaro want to laugh, the stress and weight of what's happened sliding off his back for just a moment long enough to enjoy this plane ride.

Kakyoin notices him looking, raising an eyebrow. "What?" He asks, genuinely confused.

"You're disturbing the public," Jotaro says, voice hushed so the other passengers won't hear him. "Look."

He glances over, turning to Jotaro with a smile. "I don't see what's so heinous to you people about enjoying my favorite food."

"You don't enjoy it. You..." Jotaro squints his eyes as if it'll help him find the phrase he wants. "You mug it."

"Mug it?" Kakyoin almost chokes on his cherry when he laughs.

"Yeah. What you do looks like a damn felony."

Kakyoin shakes his head, trying to swallow his food before he laughs again. He barely succeeds, but he laughs so much he snorts, and his amusement is infectious. Jotaro feels himself laughing at a joke for the first time in a good few years.

To be completely honest, Kakyoin's cherry eating habits aren't annoying. Sure, at first the sound is very noticable, but it fades into background noise. In a weird way, it's cute. But at the same time, Jotaro hasn't exactly had time to get off and it really isn't taking much to make his brain try to avoid all of his newfound anxieties by diverting to sex. Which Kakyoin is, to put it politely, inspiring thoughts of.

His lips look soft, that's already given. They always have. His smile is adorable, another given fact. The way his tongue moves is absolutely obscene, though. Polnareff's endless stream of jokes about it pose a few questions that Jotaro is seriously about to consider. Mainly, what else his tongue can do.

He clears his throat to distract himself, but it only catches Kakyoin's attention. Jotaro's feels he's ready to cry again, but for very different reasons. He's stopped mid-assault, cherry resting on his tongue, inquisitive eyes searching Jotaro's face.

"What?" Jotaro says defensively. He doesn't like the hint of mischief in Kakyoin's eyes. At first glance, the ginger is barely anything to worry about, but being stuck with him for almost two months, Jotaro is well aware of some of the things that go through his head.

Kakyoin plucks the cherry from his tongue by the stem to talk. "You look uncomfortable."

Is he leaning closer? He's definitely leaning closer. Those intense eyes bore right into Jotaro's brain. "Uh, I don't."

"Hm," Kakyoin tries to hide a smile, hold back a laugh. "You really do. You watch me an awful lot for someone who dislikes my tics, you know."

Oh. He's been found out, hasn't he? Jotaro can only grunt response, feeling trapped. Now Kakyoin will think he's a creep, because he likes to watch him eat his cherries. It was amusement the first couple of times. Now it's just inexcusable.

He backs off, leaning back into his seat and quickly stretching his legs into the aisle. It's been a few hours since either of them has stood, and with both of them having long legs, Jotaro knows these seats are pure hell.

"I'm going to walk around a bit. Come find me if you want," Kakyoin offers. The cherries are lidded, and Jotaro's eyes follow him as he stretches his back (which cracks uncomfortably loud) and walks towards the restroom, and did he just wink at him?

Oh.

He's really seen right into his head, hasn't he?

Jotaro can't say he knows what he means immediately, and even then he isn't entirely sure. But he finds himself waiting just long enough, and then following after him.

This is ridiculous.

Kakyoin is ridiculous.

It's probably a joke, and he'll tease him for being horny for him and then push him out.

And the thing is, Kakyoin could do that, yet he doesn't. If anything, he looks vaguely surprised, but pleased that Jotaro has chosen to play along even this far with his flirting.

"Do you know what I'm suggesting, JoJo?" Kakyoin speaks quietly, since neither are sure just how thick the walls are.

There's a teasing lilt to his voice, but there's uncertainty, too. It's obvious that he didn't really think Jotaro would do more than just brush it off as a joke, and this doubt is what reminds Jotaro of part of the reason he's so head over heels for this boy. Kakyoin is cocky, constantly overestimating himself and never learning from it. Even if he didn't know him as well as he does, he demonstrates it time and time again when he fights.

The question of whether it's truly how he is, though, has kept Jotaro awake longer than he'd like to admit. That underlaying, thin layer of self doubt brings his real confidence into question. Jotaro feels as though, just maybe, he's met the one person in the universe who can understand the struggle of hiding under an exterior, never feeling like yourself, always hiding—

"JoJo?" He's more serious now.

Jotaro clears his throat. "Yeah. I know."

Kakyoin smiles faintly. "Are you sure, then?"

"Sure about...?"

"About doing this in an airplane bathroom, for one," he clarifies. His joking tone fades a little when he adds, "About me, for another."

Jotaro pauses. Is he? It's difficult to separate all his emotions, especially towards Kakyoin. What does he love, if not Kakyoin? There's a few possibilities: he may love their shared trauma, may simply fear being the only one to remember it; he may love him because of when he entered his life; he may be, in some sick way, not ready to part with what has happened. Kakyoin may be merely a sentimental souvenir and nothing more, and this possibility is very clear to Jotaro, who has spent hours thinking it over, hoping to whatever higher power there is that he secretly hates Kakyoin, because what he loves never gets away unscathed.

But Jotaro is a simple man.

It's unlike him to question his emotions and prod at them so much. He's never needed to know the why to how he feels, only that he feels something and how to act on it. Even if his approach weren't so straightforward, part of him knows for certain that none of those alternatives can be true.

He nods. "I'm sure, Noriaki."

Kakyoin swallows, but tries to keep a casual disposition. Ever so formal, ever so reserved. "Oh, you think you're on a first name basis now?" He teases.

"I better be," Jotaro snorts. He's felt such a strange mixture of elated relief and panic and sadness since the sun rose on that wretched night. It's dizzying how easily he smiles.

He hesitates, before he reaches for Jotaro's hand and tugs him closer. He can feel his breath on his cheek as he leans up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then giving him a proper one.

Kakyoin's roughness is tinged with inexperience in a charming, adorable way. Jotaro cups his face before he can even realize it, warmth spreading through his body when Kakyoin's hands find his shoulders. He's nearly a head taller than the ginger, and he can feel him gripping his shoulders tightly to help lift himself up.

It proves just how distracted Kakyoin is. In any other situation, he would've called Hierophant out to support him.

It makes Jotaro's ego grow, inch by inch, until he finally pushes Kakyoin's arms away to pick him up and set him on the counter of the sink. He flushes, hands sliding down the front of Jotaro's coat.

"I'm not that short," he frowns playfully, leaning into it when Jotaro kisses his cheek.

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

Jotaro shushes him, chuckling. "Shut the fuck up, shortstack. Someone'll hear us."

"I just can't believe how rude you are," Kakyoin says, but he grins. "You really haven't," — a soft laugh when he nips his neck — "Learned a thing, JoJo."

He smiles, hiding it in the kisses he litters along the underside of Kakyoin's jaw. It's so sharp, and his face so gorgeously defined. Jotaro would be lying if he didn't admit that he thought Kakyoin would give him a run for his money when it came to the girls who trailed him like lost puppies. He'd never have thought to describe somebody as 'chiseled' before he came along.

Kakyoin's fingers slide under his hat and into his hair, and he's reminded just how pretty his hands are, too. Another strange thought, but one that he has often. His fingers are slim, the hands of a pianist as Holly would put it. They're so different, so much better, than his own chunky, short fingers and big hands. Man hands. Fighting hands. He hates them, so much. But Kakyoin's are delicate in a way, so soft and unscarred, unlike his.

Jotaro feels overwhelmed, hiding this, too, into Kakyoin's neck. He's always paid attention to details, but he sees Kakyoin's most minor ones all at once. He's truly something you have to let sink in. And by that time, he's revealed another, even more complex part of himself to you.

He fumbles with the collar of his uniform as he returns to his lips. I could get high off of kissing him, Jotaro thinks, feeling Kakyoin's fingers splay on his cheeks and hold his face close. He's addictive.

A small grunt leaves his mouth when Jotaro pulls his uniform's shirt open, trailing his hands down his sides. He's never felt quite as... soft, and tender as he does when he mumbles a you're stunning against Kakyoin's cheek. He can feel the warmth coming off his face, see the involuntary smile at his praise. It tugs at Jotaro's heart. He's hooked.

He gives him a chaste kiss. "It's hard to believe you're as fucked up as you are when you smile like that," Jotaro admits.

Kakyoin laughs, hearty and pure and way too loud. His eyes go wide, and Jotaro slaps a hand over his mouth, but it makes him want to crack up too. The redhead is struggling to stop laughing, even behind his hand.

"Shut up," Jotaro says, but it's missing the authority he wants it to have because he's grinning. "Nori, oh my god."

It's still gradual, but it works. Kakyoin's cheeks tinge pink when he calls him Nori. "I've never really had a nickname," he says quietly when he lets go of his face.

"That's a shame. Nori's cute."

"The name or me?"

"Fuck's sake," Jotaro shakes his head, leaning in for another kiss.

It's the strangest, most absurd thing — but he feels truly alone and safe with Kakyoin, here in this airplane restroom.

He really never imagined that the judgemental eyes on the back of his neck would disappear in the same room as a shitter resided in, but life works in mysterious ways. He doesn't understand them and he won't question them. Especially not when he's with Kakyoin.

Noriaki.

Nori.

Kakyoin's hands haven't left his hair, and if it weren't for the fact they're so close, if he didn't feel adrenaline and need rushing him through him, it would've made Jotaro sleepy to feel his fingers comb through the tangles. He hasn't had much time to care for it, which makes him feel gross and unkempt. Kakyoin is admirable for willingly delving his hands into such a mess.

Jotaro doesn't realize just how far he's slid off the counter until Kakyoin presses flush against him, hands abandoning his curls to hold firmly onto his shoulders. He's admittedly shy about it, but he slides his hands underneath Kakyoin's ass, hearing his noise of surprise when he holds him impossibly closer.

It's for his safety. He might fall. Jotaro getting to cop a feel is just a plus.

He tilts his head to give Kakyoin room to kiss down his neck. Jotaro hisses when he scrapes his teeth over a spot. Kakyoin pushes his coat off of one shoulder, encouraging a strained groan when he leaves a hickey. Jotaro can't say he expected him to be that considerate, if he marked him up. Really, a lot of his fantasies were based around the belief he wouldn't be so shy, but this is better than any of his wondering thoughts on solemn nights.

Kakyoin's breath hitches, and he shakes with a sigh when Jotaro squeezes his ass. His confidence comes rushing back, from wherever it went into hiding, and he smiles lazily.

"Like that, huh?" He taunts. Kakyoin looks at him long enough to roll his eyes, before giving him another playful lovebite.

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbles into his collarbone.

"I didn't say it wasn't cute."

"I know my ass is cute," Kakyoin says, familiar shit-eating grin on his face.

"Oh my fucking god," Jotaro groans, nearly banging his head on the door. It's only a foot or so away, but he could probably hit it from here if he bent back. The place is cramped, to say the least.

Kakyoin straight up giggles, Jotaro's heart fluttering in return. He's so fucking sweet. Jotaro can't take this much longer. He'll die a terrible death if he never gets to hear that sound again.

Jotaro is almost reluctant to kiss him again, but feeling Kakyoin's goofy grin against his lips makes it worth it. Kakyoin slips his hands up his shirt, prompting an embarrassing, unmanly sound that Jotaro didn't even know he could make. If he isn't imagining, Kakyoin kisses him with more fervor.

He pushes it up, the cool air fighting against the heat radiating off of both of them to get to his chest. Kakyoin breaks away just in time for Jotaro to let another unbecoming sound out, and no longer under the cover of their kiss, his face flushes red.

Fingertips brushing over his nipples, before his palms drag over them, dipping his head to place feathery kisses across his chest, no one has ever touched Jotaro as intimately as this. It's entirely new, and it makes him feel as if his blood isn't blood but electricity, coursing through his veins.

Jotaro can only compare it to how he feels during a fight, or lighting up a cigarette. Except, unlike those things, this is something he truly enjoys, not a habit he hates. This feeling is unbearably soft and warm. Kakyoin nips at his skin, and he sighs.

He slips off the counter all the way, letting Jotaro push open his uniform. Jotaro knows how he must look, cheeks pink and hair messy, coat hanging of his shoulders like some model in a fashion magazine, pupils blown. He's too backward to admit it to the other boy, but he really regrets wearing two goddamn belts right now. Kakyoin, to be fair, doesn't look any less disheveled, though. They share a look as if to communicate these things.

"We should probably hurry up if you want anything more," Kakyoin says, leaning in to whisper it. With a teasing smile, he adds, "As much as I want to stay here and make out with you."

Jotaro shrugs. "We're paying customers. We can do what we damn well please," he states.

"I'm not sure they really pictured this when they put a bathroom onboard," Kakyoin reminds, tugging Jotaro closer by one of his belts.

His hand brushes a little too low.

Jotaro bites the inside of his cheek to stop a moan. The bastard definitely meant to do that.

"What?" He grunts. "You wanna go give the innocent public a show, instead?"

Kakyoin pretends to think about it. "Hm. Kinky."

"Illegal. On so many levels."

"But kinky. On so many le—"

"Nori."

It's so easy to turn his mood around. At the mention of his newly found nickname, Kakyoin seems to realize he's just as bothered as Jotaro. Which is obvious. Very obvious. And only serves to make Jotaro wants out of his goddamned pants more.

"Fine, fine," Kakyoin says, leaning up to place a stray kiss on Jotaro's chin. "But, what do you want to do?"

What else can that tongue do? Jotaro thinks, reminded of his previous contemplations. Without Kakyoin's hands to distract him, it's blatantly obvious he won't last long enough to enjoy anything too thoroughly. Has Kakyoin ever even...?

"Your cherry thing is interesting," Jotaro flirts, struggling to sound sexy at all. He's failing, he knows, but it doesn't seem to matter to Kakyoin who listens intently. "Y'know."

Kakyoin's mouth quirks up. "You want me to suck you off?"

His face grows hot, but he clicks his tongue. "Vulgar. 'Course I do."

That angelic giggle, a kiss, the now familiar feeling of the ginger's smile against his lips. It makes Jotaro's stomach feel funny. Watching Kakyoin sinking to his knees sparks the same feeling, but for different reasons.

Jotaro's never gotten a blowjob, or any kind of intimate contact at all. The thought of how Kakyoin eats his precious cherries is driving him insane before he even undoes his belts and slides down his pants, and he has no idea what to really expect.

The breath is just about knocked out of him when Kakyoin goes past his first, tentative kiss to his head. God, the way his tongue moves really is fucking obscene.

"Fuck," Jotaro groans, bracing himself against the wall. He wants to buck his hips, almost comes in the instant Kakyoin glances up and meets his eyes.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, holding in the majority of sounds that want to force their ways out. Jotaro is talented at holding back snarky and crude comments, things that are even too nasty for someone like him to say aloud, but the sense of security he feels with Kakyoin makes his control feel shaky at best.

Kakyoin flattens his tongue, sucks harder, and he nearly cries out. He puts a hand on his head, first just to have something to ground himself with, but then he curls his fingers in his hair. He can feel it when Kakyoin moans, the noise muffled by his cock. Jotaro breathes out heavily through his nose, another fuck falling out. Everything about this turns him on like crazy; he'd never expected to be so thrilled by the risk of being caught or looked at funny.

It's pointless to try to get a grip on himself, so Jotaro gives up trying, settling for being quiet at the least. Kakyoin seems to appreciate the flow of swears and vulgar encouragements, because he does his best to take more, deepthroating him briefly before leaning back, chest heaving.

Jotaro's face feels like it's on fire when Kakyoin looks up at him. His own face is flushed, and he's still panting, the dumbest smile Jotaro's ever seen him have plastered on his face.

"Jotaro," he says, practically sighs it. He laughs softly as he continues, "Poor timing. But God, you make me so happy."

He covers his mouth to hide a grin. The comment would've made him shrink away any other time, sincere and adoring as it's meant to be, but the effect is lessened by the fact Kakyoin's on his knees and jacking him off as he says it. Still, it makes his heart skip a beat, a small, cliché part of him overjoyed to hear it.

Kakyoin's shying away from saying what he really wants to, Jotaro will realize later, afraid it'll scare him off and what they've developed will be ruined.

That he loves him.

Jotaro just brings his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed by how warm it is. "That's... cute, Nori."

With a grin, Kakyoin presses a kiss to his tip, eliciting a shaky sigh. "And that's cute, JoJo."

"Oh my god," Jotaro tries to sound utterly disinterested in his teasing, but he can't help the smile he cracks.

Partially because Kakyoin is so cute, partially because he said one of the sounds Jotaro is so self conscious of is cute.

Kakyoin's mouth is back on him once he catches his breath, with a new fervor that makes Jotaro's toes curl im his boots and his hand grip his hair tightly. The ginger appreciates it, for his groaning resumes. If he even cared any longer, Jotaro would be worried someone would hear muffled moaning and wonder what the fuck is going on in here.

He's been avoiding it for his resolve's sake, but he finally glances down at Kakyoin. His breath stops in his throat. His pants and boxers are shoved down to his knees, getting himself off to getting Jotaro off, which in turn forces Jotaro to bite his fist to keep in a distressed groan. Holy fuck.

And, as a fun fact Jotaro can now share with anyone wondering, Kakyoin is a natural redhead.

Jotaro tries his best, but his eyes slide back down again and again, eyebrows knitting with the effort of not coming just watching him. It feels perverse, but then again, this whole situation is, and it's because of Kakyoin, who was being a pervert in the first place, suggesting they meet in the bathroom. What a cocky son of a bitch. Jotaro wouldn't want him any other way.

He nearly shoves Kakyoin's face towards him when he begins to pull away again, prompting a surprised grunt.

"Jesus, I need to bre—" Kakyoin begins, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. His free hand, Jotaro reminds himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm just—"

Kakyoin smiles a little. "Gonna cum?"

"Vulgar," Jotaro tries to chide, but his lack of effort to stop the shiver his foul language causes betrays him. He answers his question with a much quieter, "Really fuckin' close."

Kakyoin is so polite and quiet and reserved, and Jotaro knows he's a little off in the head, but how the fuck is he secretly like this? It's hot, however it may be, and when he comes into his mouth, he pulls on his hair reflexively, biting his lip so hard it feels ready to burst open when Kakyoin groans around him.

It's a long moment before he pushes against Jotaro's fist to let him off, panting. "You like to pull hair, don't you?"

"I— don't know," Jotaro admits, his own breath coming short.

"I don't mind either way." Kakyoin wipes the back of his hand across his chin, and Jotaro realizes that he had— oh.

He swallowed his—

Fuck.

He's distracted by Kakyoin fixing his pants for him, leaning up to his ear. He's so close, and Jotaro wants to hold him against his chest and never let go, but his arms feel weak with post orgasm haze. "I like getting my hair pulled," Kakyoin says, in that playful tone Jotaro will never hear the same away again.

His face feels hot, and it only gets worse when Kakyoin kisses him and he can taste traces of himself on his tongue. His fingers grip his open uniform shirt a little tighter at the realization. Kakyoin leans into his touch.

"I think we've spent too long in here," Jotaro mumbles.

"You're right," Kakyoin agrees, fingers brushing down his cheek. "This doesn't just stay in here, right?"

Jotaro answers before he thinks about it. "No."

Kakyoin's smile expells any doubts he may have. "Good. I suppose it's a poor time to ask if you'd be my boyfriend."

He bites back a laugh. "It is. But... yes."

Kakyoin kisses his cheek. "I call dibs on not being the one to tell Joseph."

Jotaro winces. That's going to be a nightmare, whichever of them mentions it. "Can I take it back?"

"Nope! You're mine, now," Kakyoin grins, patting his chest.

Notes:

kakyoin has big dick energy i swear to god. this guy's got fucking balls.

take that as literally as u want.

as usual, ive barely proofread this so if quality goes downhill halfway thru that is why.