flowers || Jotakak

Blurring

 "Jotaro, deep breaths."

It hadn't taken long for the kujo to work past his doubt about seeing Kakyoin. After talking to his mother (and grandfather, although he'd never admit that he did after the conversation had ended), he came to the conclusion that he couldn't keep going on like he was before. He needed him. He needed him like the air he breathed, or more like the cigarettes he tried to stop smoking (because of Kakyoin). He couldn't imagine either of them without him being there. Or alernatively, in his mouth.

Kakyoin wasn't exactly suprised when his mother told him a large hulk of a teenager was bumbling at their door, saying he knew him. He saw the look in Jotaro's eyes when he realized he was still alive, and that was telling enough. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"Follow my breathing then, alright?  Is that better?" 

Kakyoin's body was in rough shape, it was clear. He was already skinny for a seventeen year old. His injury, however, made him lose what muscle he had before along with an unhealthy level of fat. The idea of weighing himself made him feel sick to his stomach, though, if he could manage to drag his recovering body into something resembling a standing position.

He ditched his uniform after his main surgeries were done and he was out of the hospital. The one he was wearing, although a lot of memories were with it, it didn't exactly hold up nicely after the fight with DIO. He didn't want to remember what had occured, either.  

He looked different. 

Jotaro didn't care.  

This was Kakyoin.  Kakyoin who had been dead.  Kakyoin who had left him forever. 

Time passed in a blur after he went over to Kakyoin's house for the first time.  He could barely remember it.  His memory seemed to be a lot worse after the crusade, memories of the events that took place and the present twisting and folding and melting onto each other  until nothing seemed clear; roughly recalling various discussions and flashbacks and being held when he couldn't manage to hold himself up anymore. He couldn't remember how much time had past.  He was losing himself, he was losing his surroundings, he couldn't, he can't  breathe-- 

___  

Jotaro lets a soft sigh escape his lips.  

He lay with his head in his dear Noriaki's lap.  He would prefer to be spooned, but considering the condition of the other's body, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. 

He didn't mind. 

Kakyoin gently runs his lithe fingers through Jotaro's hair, occasionally rubbing the sensitive skin of his scalp. Just the little touches felt so good.  It felt surreal. 

It was times like these that he can just let himself stop thinking: mind blank with eyes closed and deep breathing.  Sometimes he fell asleep, a mercy that was hard to come by.   Bad thoughts rarely worked their way in, but the weak frame of mind was no match for DIO and his curse trauma trauma trauma trauma trauma. He tensed as he thought about how he should be the one taking care of his friend (lover).  He's being a burden, isn't he? Isn't he? He doesn't want him here, he ruined everybody's lives with all the fucking Joestar shit. 

"It's okay, Jojo... I'm having a good day.  I promise.  You deserve to relax." 

He relaxed. 

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