requested by @jotasui_ismylife on AO3
word count: 1652
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Rohan sighed as he thumbed absent-mindlessly through his closet, looking for something decent to wear. Truth be told, his clothes were all very nice, but he didn't think they were nice enough to impress the man he was after. He knew he needed to pick something quick, before his anxiety got him, because it's much harder to breathe in a binder when you're convinced you can't breathe at all. He scanned his clothes a little longer before deciding on something simple. A turtleneck and ripped jeans wouldn't be enough, but that's all he could think of that wasn't over the top or similar to what he had been wearing for the past two weeks. He had bought new shoes, new jewelry, new clothes, new everything. He changed his makeup. He had begun changing his attitude, body language, and speech patterns. All for him to notice, but he never did. All for nothing.
Slipping out of his apartment, he glided across the road and into a small bakery for breakfast. After grabbing his food, he found a nice table in the back and began working on his latest manga. He was so invested he never noticed the man that walked in. Jotaro ordered his usual, but instead of leaving, he decided to get a table. While looking for the perfect spot, he spotted Rohan, so instead of taking up an extra table, he just slid into the chair in front of him. Surely he wouldn't mind.
Rohan looked up, and upon seeing Jotaro, he slammed his sketchbook shut and shoved his work items into his bag, pretending as if he hadn't been doing anything. "G- Uh, Good morning," he managed to stutter as his face deepened by forty shades.
"Morning," Jotaro returned. "Why did you put away your work?"
"Oh- That's- No reason! I was done..." Rohan had overheard Jotaro talking about his dislike for manga, so he had gotten an entirely different job, yet still worked for his publisher, only now publishing under a new name.
"I don't mind if you work on it, you know. I only sat here because I didn't want to take up another table."
Rohan's heart hit his stomach and pain flared up in his chest. Jotaro didn't want to sit with him.
"Oh... well, I-I think I should probably go."
"Why? You're not even halfway done with your food," Jotaro questioned suspiciously.
"I have... stuff to do. Plus, I wouldn't want to bother you any more, so I'll be off."
"But you-," Jotaro looked up at the younger man.
"Goodbye, Dr. Kujo."
Jotaro furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, watching the short, paper-thin man power walk himself out of the shop and back to his house. What the hell is going on with him today...? Jotaro sipped on his flat white as he gazed out of the window at Rohan's blind-obscured, curtain-veiled windows. Maybe he just had a bad day yesterday... although, somehow, Jotaro couldn't shake the creeping feeling he did something, and wasn't so completely sure that Rohan's sudden secrecy and coldness wasn't his fault. He only started acting weird after the older man sat down with him. The scientist shrugged, finishing his drink and guiding himself to Josuke's house to help him and Okuyasu with homework.
Rohan found himself just inside his doorway, breaking down as if he hadn't just cried himself to sleep. I'm so stupid, why did I ever think he wanted anything to do with me? I'm not even a real man... he probably thinks I'm a disgusting freak. I'll never be good enough for him. He tried to change into more comfortable clothes, but ended up staring unwillingly at the foreign, unwanted mounds of fat on his chest. The teenagers tried to reassure him before, telling him they're just like pecks. But they weren't like a man's pecks. Rohan was skinny, and fairly muscle definition-less for a man, so he wouldn't have pecks without some muscle. His were taunting and heavy, paired with the emptiness he felt between his thighs. With tears streaming down his stubble-covered face, he ran from his room, leaving the large wall mirror glittering, his retreating form glinting with unintentional malice. He was disconnected from himself, from his identity as a whole, distressed at the thought of being stuck in the body he was currently in. He knew it was no one's fault, as everyone gladly used his pronouns and name, he just couldn't see past the things he despised about himself.
The next day, Rohan found himself in the little shop again, wearing a nice outfit and reading a book on the deep sea. He didn't care much for the ocean, but he knew Jotaro did, and that's all that mattered. Jotaro walked in, ordered his flat white, and instead of sitting with Rohan, he sat across the room. The last thing he wanted was to upset him again like the day before. The older man felt the stare of someone else on his neck, specifically Rohan, but he wasn't sure if it was a longing stare or death stare. Jotaro turned to look, only to be greeted with an empty table and half-eaten muffin. That's when he stood, pushing himself away from the table and leaving the shop, scalding flat white still in hand. He jogged across the street, narrowly avoiding cars, and banged on Rohan's door.
"Who is it?"
"It's me. Let me in." Jotaro got no response. "Rohan, it's Jotaro. Let me in," he waited a moment, hoping for a response from the man hiding inside. "Let me in or I come in on my own."
He heard footsteps nearing, metal being fumbled with, and... the sound of both a deadbolt and chain lock being locked. Without a second thought, Jotaro let Star Platinum unlock the locks, and swung the door open to find a sobbing Rohan curled up on the couch in a large hoodie and flannel sleep pants.
"Get o-out."
"Rohan, wh-?"
"Get. Out." Rohan snapped his head up to look at the older man, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy with color.
"I'm not leaving."
"I didn't ask. Get the hell out of my house," the younger commanded, voice raised and eyes threateningly dark.
"No. I'm not leaving until you tell me what the fuck has gotten into you."
Rohan growled. "Why would I tell you what's going on? You don't care anyway!"
Jotaro stayed silent, eyeing the upset artist.
"That's what I thought," the younger's voice was lowered, yet still full of the pain it held earlier. "Leave. Leave right now."
"Rohan-"
"Leave."
"No! I'm not going anywhere! You can't just keep doing this to yourself and expect us not to notice! Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Just because I'm not a social person does not mean I don't watch how people act. I know you've been changing yourself. Why?"
Rohan shook his head, attempting to deny it. "No, you're wrong-!"
"No, I'm not." Jotaro moved closer, closing the door behind him. "When I first met you, you dressed stylishly, designer clothes and everything. You were a great manga artist, and liked to be with your friends, even if they bothered you. Now, you wear simple clothes, work at a fucking restaurant, and don't ever leave the house for anything other than work! What the absolute hell has gotten into you?"
"Nothing! Now would you leave me alone?!"
Jotaro growled, setting his drink down and pointing a finger at Rohan. "Drop the act. I don't give a damn if it'll hurt your pride, tell me what the fuck is wrong with you!"
Tears welled up in Rohan's eyes as he hid his face. "Fine! You wanna know what's wrong? You wanna know what's fucking wrong with me? The fact that I'll never be good enough for you!" He stopped to take in a shaky, two-layered breath. "Are you fucking happy now?!"
"Good enough for me?! When have I ever said you weren't good enough?! I willingly talk to you and call you a friend, that alone should tell you that you're enough for me!"
The younger man slapped the couch cushion. "No! I don't want to be your fucking friend, Jotaro!"
"Then why are you so obsessed with being 'good enough' for me? Why else would you have to set a standard so high for yourself?"
Rohan's voice dropped in volume again. "Because I want to be yours, not be your friend... I'm tired of trying to win you over, only to get no reaction in return," he scoffed gently. "I mean, I don't even know why I'm so hung up over it. If you even like guys, you'd probably want a real one, anyway."
The scientist's jaw dropped open in frustration. "You're fucking stupid, you know that? You've always been a real man to me. I don't give a flying fuck or shit about what you have in your pants, Rohan! It never crossed my mind! You have to wear a binder? Okay, cool! Doesn't make a difference to me!"
"But-"
"But nothing. There's no difference between us except for our physical forms. And you should know I don't care about that anyway. Even if I wasn't asexual, it wouldn't matter. If you're a man, you're a man. You could wear makeup and a dress, without your binder, and still be a man!"
The artist began to cry again, chest filling with the same pain it had many times before. Jotaro sat down on the couch next to him, stiffly putting his arms out. He wasn't a big hugger, or a good one to be completely honest, but he thought Rohan could use one. The younger looked up at him, a little stunned, before leaning into the older man, sinking into his chest and letting his emotions crash over him. Jotaro held onto him tightly, breathing in a deep, steady rhythm that he hoped Rohan would pick up on.
"You'll always be enough for me... for everyone. If you aren't enough for someone, they aren't worth your time," Jotaro comforted him, speaking in nearly a whisper. "Please believe me..."
"Al-Always?"
"Always."
