the relation of art and pain | jotakak

xiv

"That was really nice," Kakyoin says, as the two stand in the light from the dormitory. "Thank you for getting dinner, too."

"It was my turn," Jotaro brushes it off. "Y'know, I never really liked art stuff, 'til now... Thanks."

Kakyoin wants to admit how much he relates. He enjoyed art once upon a time. He has so many issues perceiving the meanings and feelings of any sort of work now, it just does not feel worth it; especially not for something he has such a tumultuous relationship with as art. If he only knew how similar Jotaro's thought process is.

Instead, though, he says nothing. It is a pleasant, quiet moment. Jotaro fades into the dark background of night a tad too well, with his black sweater and black hat over tan skin and black hair. His earrings reflect the light a little better, familiar gold studs that Kakyoin has always thought compliment his complexion well. When the moment begins to fade, and Jotaro shifts on his feet under Kakyoin's stare, he gives him a hug.

"Good night," he says, his voice muffled in Jotaro's shoulder. He can feel it in his chest when Jotaro grunts his response.

Kakyoin never realized how starved for touch he was until he hugged Jotaro on a whim. He cannot think of anything that feels more comforting and safe than being in his arms, even if it is chilly outside and his hands are freezing without Jotaro's to warm them. Jotaro's chest is firm, and Kakyoin can only imagine just as muscular as his arms. Despite his frame, which is already flattering and lean, it's obvious that Jotaro works out, too. Kakyoin can feel his strength in the way he hugs his waist with a little too much force, though he does not mind.

He keeps his arms hooked around Jotaro's shoulders when he leans back, and his mind races for a second. Jotaro looks perfect, as always. Kakyoin cannot deny he wants to kiss him so much that it hurts. He isn't sure how the first kiss affects a relationship nor if it means that all future kisses are fine, too; but impulse ignores these worries. Jotaro's palm is warm on his cheek as he kisses back. They part and say their goodbyes and Jotaro looks as if he's in a stupor the entire time.

As he makes his way to his dorm, Kakyoin decides he will have to try to remember that look. He has not wanted to draw something for the sake of capturing a memory in a very, very long time. It's invigorating. He considers it a fuck you to Professor Kishibe, too. Would that be emotional enough?

Jean's cheerful greeting gets his mind off of that track. "Hey, lover boy."

Kakyoin rolls his eyes, sitting on the edge of his bed. His back is beginning to register all the time he's spent standing up today.

"How was it?" Jean asks, more sincerely.

"Nice," Kakyoin says, laying back. He crosses his hands over his stomach, sighing. "I kissed him," he adds, laughing when Jean whistles.

"So you had a good time," he says. "I've been typing so long, I can't see three feet in front of me."

"You should take a break," Kakyoin suggests. "All that fun must be tiring."

Jean makes a face, leaning back in his chair. "I'm dying. Law and Order has been on and I couldn't even watch it because my best friend wasn't home."

"You can watch T.V. without me."

"Yeah, but who listens to my jokes then?" Jean asks. Kakyoin smiles, but Jean can't see it as he looks for the remote.

"Fine."

-

If Kakyoin were not tired before having a crime show marathon with Jean, he is now. Jean's energy is what normally keeps him awake, but it always drops when he watches those shows. Kakyoin does not see why Jean likes something that makes him sad. He has a good idea what the shows remind him of, and Kakyoin cannot imagine wanting to remember something like that.

Kakyoin cannot sleep, either. His alarm clock reads some time past three a.m., but it hurts his eyes to look at the bright red lettering in the darkness.

"Jean?" He says softly.

He hears a grunt, and then the rustle of sheets as Jean turns over. "Can't sleep either," he says.

Kakyoin rolls onto his back, looking over at his friend. Even across the few feet of darkness, he can see the outline of his ruffled up hair. "I want to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Why do you like those crime shows? Aren't they hard to listen to?"

Jean does not answer for a while. Kakyoin thinks he may have fallen asleep and he considers closing his own eyes. Finally, he hears a sigh.

"I don't know," Jean admits. "It sounds kinda stupid, when I say it out loud... I don't want other people to go through what I did, but... it's comforting to know I'm not the only one."

"That isn't stupid at all," Kakyoin says.

Jean grows introspective when he cannot sleep, something Kakyoin likes. He's calmer and much more serious, more palatable in Kakyoin's opinion. "Dedicating my life to being a P.I. just because I got angry ten years ago doesn't sound stupid to you?"

"No," Kakyoin says. "You're minimizing it."

Jean does not comment on that.

"You're an admirable man." Kakyoin continues. He is not sure he should say what he wants to say next, but he decides it's what Jean needs to hear. "I think Sherry would be proud of you."

A sniffle breaks the silence that follows. A part of Kakyoin feels bad for bringing up his sister, now. He did not want to make Jean cry. Sherry is a touchy subject, and for good reason. From the way Jean acts, Kakyoin can only assume no one has ever tried to comfort Jean about his sister's death before him. Not in any meaningful way, at least. Laying in the quiet, he can replay the first time it had come up, when Jean broke down and simply could not believe that Kakyoin still thought of him as a man after him seeing him cry.

He hears a sharp intake of breath, and a loud sigh, before Jean says, "Thank you, Nori."