the relation of art and pain | jotakak

xiii

Jotaro has never been one for art. He can appreciate the effort and envy the skill, but meanings and symbolism are beyond him. He doesn't quite get the point, if not to look pretty, and must admit that for most of his youth he thought art was rather useless. His specialty has always been of the scientific variety.

Walking through the museum with Kakyoin as the redhead swings their hands between them, he finds that the paintings and sculptures are much nicer than he remembers. Holding his hand had made his stomach feel funny at first, and being with him makes Jotaro hyper aware of the small crowd around them. He gets this way with Holly, too.

Kakyoin's energy starts out slow. He doesn't look to be enjoying himself and it sends Jotaro into a silent panic, trying to figure out what he did wrong. When his disposition fades into something more relaxed, it's a weight off Jotaro's shoulders. He writes his previous mood off as intense focus, an expression that looks good on him. His brows furrow and his mouth draws into a firm line, and Jotaro gets to appreciate his profile while he appreciates the work hanging on the walls.

Each part of the exhibit has a sign with its artist's name, birth date, and death date on it. Despite the hints, Jotaro finds it difficult to scrounge up any knowledge on them. He took a mandatory art class in high school, but that was four or five years ago. Kakyoin must somehow sense this, for he offers some tidbits on a few.

"I like this one," Kakyoin comments, as they walk past another sign. The rest of it is useless to Jotaro, but he vaguely recalls who Michelangelo is.

He rattles off facts about each piece they see. In response to Jotaro commenting that there isn't very much in the hall, Kakyoin points above them, where a decorative replica of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel hangs. Jotaro is impressed, to say the least — he has never seen it in full, and especially not gotten to stand underneath of it. Kakyoin goes on in minor detail about this art as well, earning them annoyed looks that, in turn, only serve to aggravate Jotaro.

He's first to notice something once they stop staring upwards. "Hey. Ain't that on the ceiling, too?" He asks, nodding towards a painting on the wall.

"Very good," he says sarcastically. "It's one of his most famous works."

"Oh," he mumbles, feeling stupid. He squints to read the gold plaque under the bright lighting. The Creation of Adam. "I knew that."

Kakyoin smiles a little. "I'm teasing you."

He feels even dumber now, so he lets Kakyoin continue doing the talking.

"D'you see that red thing behind the Creator?" He asks.

"Looks like a brain."

"It probably is," Kakyoin says. "Bit of a fuck you to the church, don't you think?"

Jotaro snorts, despite the one or two patrons near them who shoot Kakyoin a disapproving look. He suddenly likes Michelangelo a little more; that sort of bold move is something he can appreciate. This newfound respect grows, as Kakyoin describes the other controversies the painting has experienced.

Once they've worked their way down the exhibit and begin to near the next, Kakyoin asks, "You know another thing about Michelangelo?"

"What?"

"He was gay," he says.

Jotaro's eyebrows shoot up. He's not sure why it surprises him. He supposes he'd never thought too much about the label, and even less about how someone might fit into it so many centuries ago. "Cool," he finally says.

"I'm not the first to date my stunning model," Kakyoin teases, poking Jotaro in the chest. Immediately, Jotaro feels ten degrees warmer. He remembered to toss his hat on before he left home, but it does little to hide his face. Kakyoin is just short enough to see underneath the brim of it.

The only thing on his mind the rest of the way through the museum is the fact that yes, they are dating, and yes, Kakyoin did call him stunning. He barely realizes how tight of a grip he has his hand in. Once they reach the back of the museum, the strong scent of cleaning supplies knocks his senses back into him. He feels embarrassed for becoming so dazed over one tiny compliment, but he's beginning to learn that he just cannot help himself.

It's edging on evening by the time they come out on the street. Kakyoin suggests they stop at a restaurant by the metro station. Jotaro, to the redhead's chagrin, insists that he'll pay this time.

Tonio's is a cozy, warmly lit Italian place. Only one other couple sits at a table. Jotaro is thankful for the lack of customers. Being out and about the entire day has exhausted him, though he only realizes this when he plops down in a booth and the soles of his feet begin to ache. His attention snaps away from this when he feels the spot beside him depress, and Kakyoin's arm bumps his.

"This is fine, right?" Kakyoin asks, when he looks over.

Jotaro fixes his hat over his eyes. It is fine, more than fine, but he feels his mind numbing slowly with how close they've been all day. "Yeah," he says.

With that, Kakyoin carries on as if nothing ever happened. Meanwhile, Jotaro struggles to keep his mind from racing. He wants a cigarette, he realizes, but he never carries a pack with him. He can't bum one off of Kakyoin, either; even if he did smoke, Jotaro is too ashamed of his habit to ask him. Instead he hopes the Penne al Tonio he ordered will somehow sate his cravings. He realizes how small the restaurant must be, because the server who took their orders was Tonio himself.

Their knees brush, and Jotaro searches for something to take his mind off of how much he likes the contact. He finds it in the couple sitting across the room from them, biting back a laugh.

"Hey, Kakyoin." The man looks up from his hands to Jotaro. "Do you think that's his girlfriend or his mom?" Jotaro asks, motioning towards them.

Kakyoin steals a glance, then looks at Jotaro. "Girlfriend."

"Why do you say?"

"Besides the fact that you're an asshole," Kakyoin says, though his voice drips with a fondness that makes Jotaro grin. "Their facial structures are too different."

"I guess an artist would notice that," Jotaro reasons.

"They're also holding hands," Kakyoin adds, snickering at Jotaro's expression.

More small talk passes while they wait, more subtle touches that send Jotaro's heart flurrying, until finally their food comes. The smell reminds Jotaro that he hasn't ate since his sorry excuse for breakfast at the cafe, too busy running from class to class to worry about it, and his stomach growls.

Kakyoin makes a noise beside him and smacks Jotaro's thigh to get his attention. Jotaro freezes with his fork right in front of his mouth. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the man downright moaned.

"This is great," he explains, noting Jotaro's bewildered look.

"Sounds like it," Jotaro says. Kakyoin's smile turns shy.

Jotaro can see why he got so excited. It may be his empty stomach skewing his taste buds, but it's delicious and he has to wonder what is in it. The only fair match he can think of is Grandma Suzie's cooking. The hint of nostalgia it brings only enhances the flavor.

"Wow."

"I know," Kakyoin chuckles.

"You're really inconsiderate, you know," Jotaro says. "Now I have to top this on our next date."

He only understands what he's implying once the words hang in the air between them. Kakyoin doesn't miss a beat.

"Good luck," he says.