Eloquence

In Which Everyone Is A Bit Annoying, Part 1

Holly appears a few minutes after Kakyoin returns with the water.

"Jotaro-chan, can't you take your feet off of the table?" Miss Holly whisks away the bowl of cherries.

Kakyoin stares intently at Jojo's twin belt buckles, marking out their locations on his paper. Best to start right off with some modicum of decency.

"And at least put a shirt on. I know it's hot, Jotaro-chan, but really." Miss Holly is back with replacement cherries.

Kakyoin thanks her. "Would it be alright if he stayed like that? He's modelling for me."

"Hmmm." She tilts her head to the side, touches her finger to her lips. "I suppose," she says to the ceiling. "But I wish you wouldn't put your dirty shoes up where we eat..."

"I really do need him to stay still," says Kakyoin, both to pacify her and to prevent Jojo from removing any more clothing. "And the boots are part of the aesthetic."

Miss Holly sighs. "Well, I suppose if it's for art. Just make sure he cleans up afterward."

"Thanks," says Kakyoin.

"Shut up and leave us alone," says Jojo.

"He doesn't mean that," reassures Kakyoin, out of habit.

Miss Holly smiles. "I know. Good luck with your drawing, Kakyoin-kun."

Kakyoin spends a while fixing the general silhouette of his drawing. He had remembered Jojo's torso all wrong, broad in some places and too thin in others. Finally, he thinks he has a decent structure.

"You should take a break now. Just let me mark the pose out first."

Jojo doesn't answer. That's assent, or as much as Kakyoin's going to get.

Kakyoin has never been so close to Jojo without the imminent threat of death swelling in his chest. He takes the opportunity to study the man's incredible muscles, his unusual belts, the way that his healing wounds stretch against the rest of his skin.

Jojo's eyes are closed, but he is not asleep. He shifts each limb so that Kakyoin can mark out every angle of the pose without attempting to move Jojo's tree trunk of a leg out of his way. Kakyoin appreciates it.

"That should be all," Kakyoin says, from between Jojo's thighs where he has just finished putting tape on the spot where the seat of Jojo's pants touches the chair.

It is at this moment that Polnareff chooses to enter the kitchen.

For a split second, he stands in complete shock. "Ka-"

Then he holds up a camera and takes a picture. "Ok, got the evidence. What's going on?"

Kakyoin stands up. Jojo follows, stretching his massive arms over his head. It's much more impressive now that Kakyoin can see bulging muscles without a shirt in the way.

"Art modelling."

"Dude, like, what?" Polnareff flops onto the table, striking a pose. "Draw me like one of your French... guys." He grins, then stands up again, grabs Kakyoin's sketchbook.

"You have no concept of privacy," mutters Kakyoin.

"Whoa. This is really good. Have you seen it yet, Jojo?"

"No, of course he hasn't. He's been modelling. Give me that."

Since, you know, it has other pictures of Jojo. Ones that do not (yet, Kakyoin wants to yell, yet, but they will, he swears) have the movement and texture of fabric covering them. And maybe Kakyoin doesn't want Polnareff to see that, doesn't want to have to explain - with Jojo standing behind them - that yes, he is going to draw clothes on and yes, he always pencils in the general shapes first and no, that does not mean he has envisioned Polnareff naked. Or Jojo. But the latter is mostly because he doesn't have to rely on imagination.

No, that is not a conversation that Kakyoin wants to have just when he has managed to see Jojo as a collection of sunlight and shadow again.

You should draw hot fire man, signs Polnareff, words blunted by his missing fingers, once he has handed the sketchbook back to Kakyoin. And new hair.

So, Avdol. Hot fire man, huh. "I have." Polnareff is not one to be subtle about his romantic attachments, so Kakyoin wonders why he signed rather than spoke.

"Let me seeeeeee!" 

"No. It's not finished."

"I wanna seeeeeeeeeee!" Polnareff has grown, if possible, even more childish on the trip to conquer DIO. "I wanna see it, I wanna see it, I wanna see it."

"I said it isn't done. You can see it after."

"I'll show Jojo's grandpa that picture..."

"Ah. I'm sorry. Did I say you couldn't see it? I meant that it's a work in progress and that you won't yet be able to see it in its full glory. Now if you take the very simple step of destroying all evidence of that picture, along with any chance that anyone would see it out of context ever, I would be delighted to show you my current progress on the portrait of Avdol fighting the void of nothingness."

Polnareff promises to consider the offer, and walks away with the camera still in hand.