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Jotaro Kujo ⬤ JJBA: Stardust Crusaders
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moonblessing ⬤ Sanguis
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moonblessing ⬤ Sanguis
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[ The more he gets used to sleeping next to (on) Jotaro, the more that Hierophant spreads out from him, curling itself contentedly around limbs and fingers and whatever else it can coil itself around. Occasionally rearranging Jotaro’s arms around him. Sometimes dragging everyone around so he’s trapped between Adrian and Jotaro.
It’s not him doing it, obviously. He’s asleep for the whole thing. It’s Hierophant.
So far tonight there’s been nothing curling around anyone. It’s a dead giveaway that he’s not asleep, just lying very, very still. ]
Jotaro?
It’s not him doing it, obviously. He’s asleep for the whole thing. It’s Hierophant.
So far tonight there’s been nothing curling around anyone. It’s a dead giveaway that he’s not asleep, just lying very, very still. ]
Jotaro?
[How the hell did he ever get so lucky, he wonders, sometimes. How could he ever have gotten so lucky, that not only is Kakyoin here and alive and breathing and cuddled up close in his arms, but in fact he's got two boyfriends to feel that way about, and he loves them, and they...maybe...probably love each other or at least like each other enough to put up with moments like this, and there's no Dio and they're all just warm and happy and safe.
There was a time once when he really didn't think he got to feel like this.
So he's not altogether surprised that Kakyoin isn't sleeping, in part because of Hierophant's absence and in part because he knows the difference between Kakyoin's asleep breathing and his awake-but-faking-it breathing, and so he's been lying awake and not saying anything too, just trying to be ready for when conversation inevitably began.]
Yeah?
[He leans his head forward, kissing the back of Kakyoin's neck.]
Mmmm. Hi.
There was a time once when he really didn't think he got to feel like this.
So he's not altogether surprised that Kakyoin isn't sleeping, in part because of Hierophant's absence and in part because he knows the difference between Kakyoin's asleep breathing and his awake-but-faking-it breathing, and so he's been lying awake and not saying anything too, just trying to be ready for when conversation inevitably began.]
Yeah?
[He leans his head forward, kissing the back of Kakyoin's neck.]
Mmmm. Hi.
Hi.
[ It is Hierophant, that pulls everyone in closer while Kakyoin is asleep. Truthfully, it is.
But that doesn’t mean there aren’t shades of it visible in Kakyoin. He has to get it from somewhere. Hierophant reaches out until it touches something and then curls tightly around it, attaching. Kakyoin lies against Jotaro until he’s touched, then grabs at whoever body part belonging to whoever touched him and attaches. In this case he rolls onto his front and reaches up to slip his arms between Jotaro’s neck and the pillow. ]
What you said. About showing you on my own terms, before this place does something stupid. I’m ready.
[ Probably. Just about. ]
[ It is Hierophant, that pulls everyone in closer while Kakyoin is asleep. Truthfully, it is.
But that doesn’t mean there aren’t shades of it visible in Kakyoin. He has to get it from somewhere. Hierophant reaches out until it touches something and then curls tightly around it, attaching. Kakyoin lies against Jotaro until he’s touched, then grabs at whoever body part belonging to whoever touched him and attaches. In this case he rolls onto his front and reaches up to slip his arms between Jotaro’s neck and the pillow. ]
What you said. About showing you on my own terms, before this place does something stupid. I’m ready.
[ Probably. Just about. ]
[ He doesn’t try to find Jotaro. It’s shameful, how he doesn’t try to find Jotaro. But staying at Adrian’s side in the aftermath of everything takes priority. Has to take priority. Jotaro wants it to take priority. Probably. No matter how wrong it feels to put someone (even Adrian. Even Adrian) before him.
Which is not to say that he resigns himself to Jotaro being gone, because if the grace to accept that existed anywhere in him it was probably somewhere in his abdomen. But keeping Adrian from tearing open the world or locking closed a small, velvet-lined box has to happen first.
It’s exhausting, being the voice of reason where things he doesn’t want to be reasonable about are concerned.
Jotaro returns. Jotaro returns and Adrian needs him more and he learns that he has it in him to leave them be. To leave and not even spy on anyone at all a little bit even though he wants to. To let Adrian have the reunion he needs, because Adrian literally actually needs it to survive and he can wait a little longer. ]
I stole your spot on the roof, while you were gone.
It’s mine now.
You have to ask nicely if you want to come up here.
Which is not to say that he resigns himself to Jotaro being gone, because if the grace to accept that existed anywhere in him it was probably somewhere in his abdomen. But keeping Adrian from tearing open the world or locking closed a small, velvet-lined box has to happen first.
It’s exhausting, being the voice of reason where things he doesn’t want to be reasonable about are concerned.
Jotaro returns. Jotaro returns and Adrian needs him more and he learns that he has it in him to leave them be. To leave and not even spy on anyone at all a little bit even though he wants to. To let Adrian have the reunion he needs, because Adrian literally actually needs it to survive and he can wait a little longer. ]
I stole your spot on the roof, while you were gone.
It’s mine now.
You have to ask nicely if you want to come up here.
[Even now, it still doesn't altogether feel real.
He remembers his untimely exit from Lunatia in glimpses and flashes; he hasn't been back long enough for the memories to return fully, so it's less a vivid recollection and more just nebulous understanding of the things he knows transpired. The portals opening, the confrontation. The way Adrian's eyes had looked when he'd begged, pleading to let him try, that he could still fix what he'd done. The way the world had lurched when a golden hand had hurtled out from one of the portals and dragged him backwards to the sound of a ticking clock winding down into silence. Hierophant lashing out like a whip crack, trying desperately to pull him back.
The way it had looked when Hierophant's tendril broke on Star's fist. The way it had shattered and dissolved in the air, right before Cairo swallowed him back up again.
He left Adrian and Kakyoin alone. He left them behind.
For a while, back home, he hadn't remembered the odd neon planet where they'd all been reunited. He'd fallen back into the moment he'd left, or thereabouts, and the world he'd thought he'd known abruptly went sideways in the face of glowing rifts and a time-traveling dandy named Speedwagon and —
Avdol. Iggy. Kakyoin.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
The World Over Heaven is defeated now, just as Dio's The World once was before it. His Star Platinum is, as always, the same type of Stand. And the longer he'd found himself the steward of that unparalleled power to rule, to shape, to change the very fabric of reality itself...
...The more he'd begun to remember that far, far away, there were two people waiting for him.
This time, he comes back on his own. This time, he's tired and battle-worn but not disoriented, because he knows this routine all too well, and soon enough he's back in Lunatia and reunited with his boyfriends and it's altogether unsurprising that Adrian needs him most, needs every part of him he can give, and he'd sworn time and time again all that time ago that he always would, he would give him everything, and he does.
Adrian is worn out, worn to the bone from his anguish and his terrified joy, and so Jotaro rests his hand on Adrian's cheek while Star presses his hand against Adrian's head, and now he'll have a peaceful sleep for the next ten hours or so because that's what Jotaro wants, and Star Platinum Over Heaven always makes sure Jotaro gets what he wants.
He puts his vampire boyfriend in his coffin, where he can sleep peacefully and deeply and wake up feeling restored. And then he heads out to find his gremlin boyfriend, who waited so patiently and took himself out of the equation just like Adrian himself did once, back when Kakyoin first stumbled into Lunatia half-dead and nowhere near alive and needed Jotaro to be his everything, himself.]
i have to ask nicely, huh
well
it's pretty hard to kiss you from down here
but send hierophant down and i'll show you just how nicely i can ask
He remembers his untimely exit from Lunatia in glimpses and flashes; he hasn't been back long enough for the memories to return fully, so it's less a vivid recollection and more just nebulous understanding of the things he knows transpired. The portals opening, the confrontation. The way Adrian's eyes had looked when he'd begged, pleading to let him try, that he could still fix what he'd done. The way the world had lurched when a golden hand had hurtled out from one of the portals and dragged him backwards to the sound of a ticking clock winding down into silence. Hierophant lashing out like a whip crack, trying desperately to pull him back.
The way it had looked when Hierophant's tendril broke on Star's fist. The way it had shattered and dissolved in the air, right before Cairo swallowed him back up again.
He left Adrian and Kakyoin alone. He left them behind.
For a while, back home, he hadn't remembered the odd neon planet where they'd all been reunited. He'd fallen back into the moment he'd left, or thereabouts, and the world he'd thought he'd known abruptly went sideways in the face of glowing rifts and a time-traveling dandy named Speedwagon and —
Avdol. Iggy. Kakyoin.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
The World Over Heaven is defeated now, just as Dio's The World once was before it. His Star Platinum is, as always, the same type of Stand. And the longer he'd found himself the steward of that unparalleled power to rule, to shape, to change the very fabric of reality itself...
...The more he'd begun to remember that far, far away, there were two people waiting for him.
This time, he comes back on his own. This time, he's tired and battle-worn but not disoriented, because he knows this routine all too well, and soon enough he's back in Lunatia and reunited with his boyfriends and it's altogether unsurprising that Adrian needs him most, needs every part of him he can give, and he'd sworn time and time again all that time ago that he always would, he would give him everything, and he does.
Adrian is worn out, worn to the bone from his anguish and his terrified joy, and so Jotaro rests his hand on Adrian's cheek while Star presses his hand against Adrian's head, and now he'll have a peaceful sleep for the next ten hours or so because that's what Jotaro wants, and Star Platinum Over Heaven always makes sure Jotaro gets what he wants.
He puts his vampire boyfriend in his coffin, where he can sleep peacefully and deeply and wake up feeling restored. And then he heads out to find his gremlin boyfriend, who waited so patiently and took himself out of the equation just like Adrian himself did once, back when Kakyoin first stumbled into Lunatia half-dead and nowhere near alive and needed Jotaro to be his everything, himself.]
i have to ask nicely, huh
well
it's pretty hard to kiss you from down here
but send hierophant down and i'll show you just how nicely i can ask
[ He’s been behaving himself and part of that is not keeping track of everyone and everything, so Hierophant isn’t already out and scouting. It means he has to take a moment to figure out where Jotaro is before Hierophant can reach down.
But only a moment, because his heart is in his mouth from the second he feels his phone shake. Because no matter how good and patient he tries to be, this isn’t going to seem real until he can reach out and touch Jotaro. He won’t be able to believe he’s really back. To stop seeing long, pale fingers dragging Jotaro away on the backs of his eyelids. ]
At least say please.
[ It’s tempting to wait for Jotaro to play along, but he doesn’t have it in him to be patient any longer. Hierophant peeks out over the edge of the roof, the patterns of his skin shifting rapidly in excitement, then unfurls downward like a princess’ hair. ]
But only a moment, because his heart is in his mouth from the second he feels his phone shake. Because no matter how good and patient he tries to be, this isn’t going to seem real until he can reach out and touch Jotaro. He won’t be able to believe he’s really back. To stop seeing long, pale fingers dragging Jotaro away on the backs of his eyelids. ]
At least say please.
[ It’s tempting to wait for Jotaro to play along, but he doesn’t have it in him to be patient any longer. Hierophant peeks out over the edge of the roof, the patterns of his skin shifting rapidly in excitement, then unfurls downward like a princess’ hair. ]
I need to speak with you when you have a moment
I'm not here to harass you
not this time.
I'm not here to harass you
not this time.
[Careful planning after the span of several months had finally come to fruition, or so Adrian had thought.
There were books that he had obtained directly from the castle's library. Father's books, describing the Infinite Corridor. Knowledge on how to theoretically open it. It seemed as if that Dracula had more than once in the past, more to gather his own forces from hell or various versions of itself, but beyond that what could it be like? To pave the way to your destination besides the afterlife.
He would wonder no more.
It is a mix of magic, which in itself is dangerous. Dracula would never have thought twice about sacrificing actual souls of mortals for his work, but Adrian -- despite everything he's been through -- refuses to do such a thing. Gathering chroma and sacrificing his own blood, he thinks, should be enough.
So he sits in the lab he has been renting, his circles made. From his hands, he bleeds, the pain clearing his mind to meditate as he has been for the past several hours.
And at last, he is finally successful. With his eyes open, Adrian stares in wonder, watching as the Infinite Corridor opens.]
I've done it! [It is a thrill, a relief to know finally, finally he'll make this his. He won't-- he won't have to return to Wallachia. To ghosts of his family, skeletons of a better life, bodies of those who hurt and deceived him.
But thinking of Wallachia and all of his regrets is what seems to transform the door. Suddenly, it opens, and Adrian stares horrified as his gaze meets someone else's.]
Father...?
[For a moment, Dracula reaches up. Is he furious? Or does he reach for his son one last time? Adrian does not know, but he quickly loses control of the doorway. It warps again, spitting out a demon that easily breaks through the closest window. Others follow it.]
Shit.
[Letting his self-inflicted wounds heal, Adrian glances outside. Fuck. That's bad.
No. No, it's fine, he can fix this.]
There were books that he had obtained directly from the castle's library. Father's books, describing the Infinite Corridor. Knowledge on how to theoretically open it. It seemed as if that Dracula had more than once in the past, more to gather his own forces from hell or various versions of itself, but beyond that what could it be like? To pave the way to your destination besides the afterlife.
He would wonder no more.
It is a mix of magic, which in itself is dangerous. Dracula would never have thought twice about sacrificing actual souls of mortals for his work, but Adrian -- despite everything he's been through -- refuses to do such a thing. Gathering chroma and sacrificing his own blood, he thinks, should be enough.
So he sits in the lab he has been renting, his circles made. From his hands, he bleeds, the pain clearing his mind to meditate as he has been for the past several hours.
And at last, he is finally successful. With his eyes open, Adrian stares in wonder, watching as the Infinite Corridor opens.]
I've done it! [It is a thrill, a relief to know finally, finally he'll make this his. He won't-- he won't have to return to Wallachia. To ghosts of his family, skeletons of a better life, bodies of those who hurt and deceived him.
But thinking of Wallachia and all of his regrets is what seems to transform the door. Suddenly, it opens, and Adrian stares horrified as his gaze meets someone else's.]
Father...?
[For a moment, Dracula reaches up. Is he furious? Or does he reach for his son one last time? Adrian does not know, but he quickly loses control of the doorway. It warps again, spitting out a demon that easily breaks through the closest window. Others follow it.]
Shit.
[Letting his self-inflicted wounds heal, Adrian glances outside. Fuck. That's bad.
No. No, it's fine, he can fix this.]
[It's safe to say that, even after all the categorically wild batshittery Jotaro has been through since the day he first discovered his Stand, he still doesn't just go around expecting to see clusters of flying demons taking to the skies. Stand users? Sure. Sticky horses? Been there, done that. But these —
These are something different, and something terrible, and it quickly becomes apparent that they're not the result of Lunatian powers. The sorts of things that turn up around here are always chroma-fixated; they disrupt it or steal it or hunt it, but it's always about the chroma that the outworlders produce, in the end.
These things, not so much. They're out for blood, just regular ordinary slaughter, and they don't care where they find it or what they have to do to get it.
The demons are fast and agile, and so he decides quickly to pull Star into himself and use his Stand's abilities for quicker movement as opposed to defense, more set on dodging the creatures as best he can than standing still and risking getting overwhelmed by them. If worst comes to worst, he can stop time twice before he's down for the count; it'll have to do as a last resort.
So, what first? Find shelter, he decides briskly, and make sure Kakyoin and Adrian are okay. Everything else can wait; he's got to make sure they're all right, first.]
hey
something weird's going on
i think it's that geistnacht bullshit people talked about before
are you ok
These are something different, and something terrible, and it quickly becomes apparent that they're not the result of Lunatian powers. The sorts of things that turn up around here are always chroma-fixated; they disrupt it or steal it or hunt it, but it's always about the chroma that the outworlders produce, in the end.
These things, not so much. They're out for blood, just regular ordinary slaughter, and they don't care where they find it or what they have to do to get it.
The demons are fast and agile, and so he decides quickly to pull Star into himself and use his Stand's abilities for quicker movement as opposed to defense, more set on dodging the creatures as best he can than standing still and risking getting overwhelmed by them. If worst comes to worst, he can stop time twice before he's down for the count; it'll have to do as a last resort.
So, what first? Find shelter, he decides briskly, and make sure Kakyoin and Adrian are okay. Everything else can wait; he's got to make sure they're all right, first.]
hey
something weird's going on
i think it's that geistnacht bullshit people talked about before
are you ok
[ He isn't entirely certain how one is meant to go about performing birthdays. They're pointless. Arbitrary. This one more than most. Something he just came up with on the spot so that he'd have something, anything, to try to coax Adrian into focusing on instead of letting him shrink away into that horrible coffin.
(Jotaro ground his knuckles into reality until it let him out of the coffin. He's not about to let anyone else go into one.)
All of that said, he's not about to let himself do a bad job. He decided that Star would have a birthday. And so regardless of his ulterior motives, regardless of his lack of any idea how anyone above the age of six celebrates 'birthday'- he's going to do it right.
He looks ridiculous. This was a terrible idea. But he's also not a fucking coward and he doesn't have a better idea.
Jotaro's on the sofa when he approaches (carefully, from behind, making sure to not be seen until he's ready) and leans down. The soft, barely perceptible weight of his forelock settles against Jotaro's head a second before his lips do, kissing the top of his hat. His arms follow a moment later, draping over Jotaro's shoulders. He only ever gets to feel tall when Jotaro is sitting down and he isn't. ]
May I see Star? [ He asks, reaching out one of his arms and leaving his hand hovering awkwardly in the air, knowing it'll be maybe a second at most before it's resting against a purple hand. ] I have something for him.
(Jotaro ground his knuckles into reality until it let him out of the coffin. He's not about to let anyone else go into one.)
All of that said, he's not about to let himself do a bad job. He decided that Star would have a birthday. And so regardless of his ulterior motives, regardless of his lack of any idea how anyone above the age of six celebrates 'birthday'- he's going to do it right.
He looks ridiculous. This was a terrible idea. But he's also not a fucking coward and he doesn't have a better idea.
Jotaro's on the sofa when he approaches (carefully, from behind, making sure to not be seen until he's ready) and leans down. The soft, barely perceptible weight of his forelock settles against Jotaro's head a second before his lips do, kissing the top of his hat. His arms follow a moment later, draping over Jotaro's shoulders. He only ever gets to feel tall when Jotaro is sitting down and he isn't. ]
May I see Star? [ He asks, reaching out one of his arms and leaving his hand hovering awkwardly in the air, knowing it'll be maybe a second at most before it's resting against a purple hand. ] I have something for him.
[The truth is, in the midst of the...well, everything, really, he'd sort of forgotten about the prospect of Star's impending birthday, which probably worked out for the best anyway, all things considered. Between adjusting to his newfound Stand abilities and everything that's come with them, plus reuniting with Kakyoin, plus doing all he can to support Adrian and keep him afloat, it had really just...slipped his mind.
Until now, when he's sitting and reading and all of a sudden slender arms wind down over his shoulders, and he realizes that he's as surprised as Star is about to be, as a smile starts to creep at the corner of his mouth.]
Sure. I bet he'll be thrilled to see what you've got for him.
[Thrilled indeed; it's a good word for the expression on Star's face as he appears a moment later, pupils dilated and features curious like an oversized purple cat, as his massive fingers curl around Kakyoin's hand and hold it like a treasure.]
You want me to translate what's going on? Or are you gonna do it yourself?
Until now, when he's sitting and reading and all of a sudden slender arms wind down over his shoulders, and he realizes that he's as surprised as Star is about to be, as a smile starts to creep at the corner of his mouth.]
Sure. I bet he'll be thrilled to see what you've got for him.
[Thrilled indeed; it's a good word for the expression on Star's face as he appears a moment later, pupils dilated and features curious like an oversized purple cat, as his massive fingers curl around Kakyoin's hand and hold it like a treasure.]
You want me to translate what's going on? Or are you gonna do it yourself?
With regard to the thing. That you mentioned before. The fighting and losing.
[ He is literally sitting in Jotaro’s lap, curled up inside a frog hoodie large enough to tuck his legs into it and texting him instead of talking anyway. It’s easier. ]
Am I meant to actually fight you.
Not that I mind doing so but.
I am having some difficulty coming up with a strategy.
[ He is literally sitting in Jotaro’s lap, curled up inside a frog hoodie large enough to tuck his legs into it and texting him instead of talking anyway. It’s easier. ]
Am I meant to actually fight you.
Not that I mind doing so but.
I am having some difficulty coming up with a strategy.
what
[There's something weirdly comfortable about physically holding Kakyoin while texting him at the same time. Comfortable and stupid. Their relationship in three words.]
what are you talking about
a strategy??
are you actually trying to figure out how to kick my ass
[There's something weirdly comfortable about physically holding Kakyoin while texting him at the same time. Comfortable and stupid. Their relationship in three words.]
what are you talking about
a strategy??
are you actually trying to figure out how to kick my ass
[ His face isn't fully in the frame of the picture. Just his mouth at the top, teeth closed around the bottom hem of one of Jotaro's giant t-shirts.
And technically wearing Jotaro's shirts is Adrian's thing* and usually he cares about maintaining that even when nobody else does. But he can make an exception for this.
You don't often get chances to take 'look how not dead I am' selfies, after all. Best to do them right.
The scar he's showing off on his abdomen is still objectively hideous. But it's hideous in a different way now. Still not quite a human way. But closer.
The bottleglass scarring is still there in places. No longer transparent, real scar tissue beneath it. It's cracked through and where it's broken thick knots of scarring have grown like roots breaking concrete. A few little hollows mark places where his body has rejected the crystal entirely.
It's ugly but it's living ugly.
* unlike Adrian he is wearing pants with the stolen shirt ]
And technically wearing Jotaro's shirts is Adrian's thing* and usually he cares about maintaining that even when nobody else does. But he can make an exception for this.
You don't often get chances to take 'look how not dead I am' selfies, after all. Best to do them right.
The scar he's showing off on his abdomen is still objectively hideous. But it's hideous in a different way now. Still not quite a human way. But closer.
The bottleglass scarring is still there in places. No longer transparent, real scar tissue beneath it. It's cracked through and where it's broken thick knots of scarring have grown like roots breaking concrete. A few little hollows mark places where his body has rejected the crystal entirely.
It's ugly but it's living ugly.
* unlike Adrian he is wearing pants with the stolen shirt ]
[ The machine is all Adrian’s work, give or take his being nosy and judgmental enough to need to glance over the initial plans and make comments. He hadn’t thought he was particularly interested, really. He was under the impression that there was never any real need. He has boyfriends, plural, and one of them doesn’t tire. Beyond that, he has Hierophant. His options for being fucked up to and well beyond the point at which he cannot stand are plentiful.
He did, perhaps, fail to consider the possibility that he’d return from his classes to find the thing in use, which changes everything. It’s hard to remain not particularly interested when the thing you’re not particularly interested in is slowly but relentlessly thrusting itself in and out of your boyfriend.
One by one, he removes items from his bag. He doesn’t like leaving his textbooks in there, they’ll put strain on the straps once he hangs it up. And maybe he’s being a little more diligent with putting the books away one by one than he would be otherwise, but there are a thousand perfectly innocent reasons for that, ones that aren’t ‘he’s pretending that nothing worthwhile is happening’. But a strand of Hierophant reaches out, pulling loose strands of Jotaro’s hair away from his face. Checks that the straps keeping Jotaro attached to the machine aren’t too tight. ]
Do we have volume one of this series? The one with the dragons. [ He asks as he puts his books onto the shelf, running a finger over a row of prismal fantasy novels. Which are obviously the most interesting thing in the room. ] The ones on the shelf start at volume two.
He did, perhaps, fail to consider the possibility that he’d return from his classes to find the thing in use, which changes everything. It’s hard to remain not particularly interested when the thing you’re not particularly interested in is slowly but relentlessly thrusting itself in and out of your boyfriend.
One by one, he removes items from his bag. He doesn’t like leaving his textbooks in there, they’ll put strain on the straps once he hangs it up. And maybe he’s being a little more diligent with putting the books away one by one than he would be otherwise, but there are a thousand perfectly innocent reasons for that, ones that aren’t ‘he’s pretending that nothing worthwhile is happening’. But a strand of Hierophant reaches out, pulling loose strands of Jotaro’s hair away from his face. Checks that the straps keeping Jotaro attached to the machine aren’t too tight. ]
Do we have volume one of this series? The one with the dragons. [ He asks as he puts his books onto the shelf, running a finger over a row of prismal fantasy novels. Which are obviously the most interesting thing in the room. ] The ones on the shelf start at volume two.
Edited 2021-03-08 01:58 (UTC)
[He'd told Adrian he wanted to — well, that he wanted to stop thinking for a while. To feel that odd way he feels when he wears his collar or is tied up or made to crawl on the ground. The one where obedience pushes the whole world down into a fine faraway point of light and he finds himself drifting through quiet darkness, his thoughts stilled, his tension dissolving. He can never find the words to properly describe what it is he finds so addicting about it; he certainly doesn't like the thought of being humiliated or demeaned or objectified. The thought of being seen while he's acting like that is nervewracking.
It's just that Adrian's voice is so smooth, and his hands are so steady, and nothing he asks for is so much at all. It's only ever simple things. Come here. Down on your knees. Good boy. It's so easy. He's never thought of himself as someone in need of praise, and yet when he's lost in his own head with nothing but Adrian's voice shepherding him along, two words of praise feel as contented as an afternoon spent napping in the sun.
He'd said he wanted to stop thinking, today. He's just had a lot on his mind. Nothing world-changing, nothing imminent or fatal. Just average stressors building up, and he'd wanted to escape from them a little.
Adrian said he had something new they could try. Adrian said he could say no anytime he wanted.
And he hadn't said no, so Adrian had made him close his eyes and pushed off his clothes piece by piece, and brought him by the chin to a well-padded contraption built to support him in a prone position. He'd gone along with it easily. He'd been made comfortable, happy to lie still and let Adrian arrange and secure his limbs as he'd liked. He'd been positioned just so, and then Adrian had taken the ring on his collar and clipped a restraint to it, loose enough that he can move but short enough that he can't get up without breaking it, and then he'd removed Jotaro's hat and kissed his forehead and told him to hold still and be good.
It had sounded so easy, until the machine started.
He's lost track of how long he's been in it. It's all so constant that it's almost hypnotizing, the same repetition over and over and over of machinery humming and pleasure melting from a sudden jolt to a slower burn as each thrust works in and out. There's sweat on his forehead and his eyes are glassy but he's good, he's so good, he's being good.
He almost doesn't hear the door open, through his reverie. Even once he notices it, the recognition comes sluggish and dreamy. But eventually it does set in, and for a second his heart rate jackrabbits, panic spiking and his collar lead rattling as no, he doesn't like this, he doesn't want it, he doesn't want someone to see him, he doesn't —
It's Kakyoin, he remembers distantly, like sunlight filtering down through a deep blue ocean. Kakyoin wouldn't laugh at him. Kakyoin won't think worse of him.
His agitation smooths over, helped along by the movements of the machine. He puts his head back down the way it had been. Pleasure laps at his body like the ebb and flow of waves, while inside him it feels like origami folding in on itself again and again, slowly building up into something he can't describe.
He feels like he hasn't had a thought in an eternity. He could find his own name if he tried, but he doesn't need to, and it floats languidly away again.
Something brushes against his forehead, like the way that Adrian had kissed him. Hierophant. A low soft noise escapes his spit-slick lips, and he hopes it's enough to express his gratitude.
Kakyoin isn't even looking at him. He's of no consequence. He's nothing. He gets to be nothing, for just a little while. As long as he wants, fucked and fucked until his whole world is nothing but rhythm and pleasure and comfort and quiet and love.
He moans again, quieter this time. He doesn't know if he wants Kakyoin to notice him or not.
It doesn't matter either way. He's secure, and the unspoken promise is that the world beyond his closed eyes is someone else's problem for now. His body is a vessel that holds nothing but pleasure; his only obligation barely even an obligation to begin with.
He feels warm. He feels sleepy. He feels safe.
He's being such a good boy.]
It's just that Adrian's voice is so smooth, and his hands are so steady, and nothing he asks for is so much at all. It's only ever simple things. Come here. Down on your knees. Good boy. It's so easy. He's never thought of himself as someone in need of praise, and yet when he's lost in his own head with nothing but Adrian's voice shepherding him along, two words of praise feel as contented as an afternoon spent napping in the sun.
He'd said he wanted to stop thinking, today. He's just had a lot on his mind. Nothing world-changing, nothing imminent or fatal. Just average stressors building up, and he'd wanted to escape from them a little.
Adrian said he had something new they could try. Adrian said he could say no anytime he wanted.
And he hadn't said no, so Adrian had made him close his eyes and pushed off his clothes piece by piece, and brought him by the chin to a well-padded contraption built to support him in a prone position. He'd gone along with it easily. He'd been made comfortable, happy to lie still and let Adrian arrange and secure his limbs as he'd liked. He'd been positioned just so, and then Adrian had taken the ring on his collar and clipped a restraint to it, loose enough that he can move but short enough that he can't get up without breaking it, and then he'd removed Jotaro's hat and kissed his forehead and told him to hold still and be good.
It had sounded so easy, until the machine started.
He's lost track of how long he's been in it. It's all so constant that it's almost hypnotizing, the same repetition over and over and over of machinery humming and pleasure melting from a sudden jolt to a slower burn as each thrust works in and out. There's sweat on his forehead and his eyes are glassy but he's good, he's so good, he's being good.
He almost doesn't hear the door open, through his reverie. Even once he notices it, the recognition comes sluggish and dreamy. But eventually it does set in, and for a second his heart rate jackrabbits, panic spiking and his collar lead rattling as no, he doesn't like this, he doesn't want it, he doesn't want someone to see him, he doesn't —
It's Kakyoin, he remembers distantly, like sunlight filtering down through a deep blue ocean. Kakyoin wouldn't laugh at him. Kakyoin won't think worse of him.
His agitation smooths over, helped along by the movements of the machine. He puts his head back down the way it had been. Pleasure laps at his body like the ebb and flow of waves, while inside him it feels like origami folding in on itself again and again, slowly building up into something he can't describe.
He feels like he hasn't had a thought in an eternity. He could find his own name if he tried, but he doesn't need to, and it floats languidly away again.
Something brushes against his forehead, like the way that Adrian had kissed him. Hierophant. A low soft noise escapes his spit-slick lips, and he hopes it's enough to express his gratitude.
Kakyoin isn't even looking at him. He's of no consequence. He's nothing. He gets to be nothing, for just a little while. As long as he wants, fucked and fucked until his whole world is nothing but rhythm and pleasure and comfort and quiet and love.
He moans again, quieter this time. He doesn't know if he wants Kakyoin to notice him or not.
It doesn't matter either way. He's secure, and the unspoken promise is that the world beyond his closed eyes is someone else's problem for now. His body is a vessel that holds nothing but pleasure; his only obligation barely even an obligation to begin with.
He feels warm. He feels sleepy. He feels safe.
He's being such a good boy.]
[It's a while before Jotaro starts to feel the itch to go under again; that's sort of normal, really, from what he's learned about himself over the course of...well, learning about himself like this. The collar and machine and going far away in his own mind, it's not something he necessarily needs or wants all the time. It's just something that's good on occasion, a rare treat like any other. Most of the time his collar stays safely boxed up in a low drawer on the nightstand, where Star can fetch it easily when he desires it but it isn't easy to stumble across unless one explicitly goes looking for it.
But he's had it on his mind, at the very least. Things he and Kakyoin had talked about during their last encounter, Kakyoin's budding fascination with testing control and experimenting with the role of leash-holder — he thinks about it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he considers that this might be another way in which they're compatible, just like they are in so many other things. It's just a matter of figuring it out first.
He comes home from work. He takes a thoughtful shower. He dons one of his few remaining T-shirts (thanks to his boyfriends stealing them all) and a loose pair of boxers, and wraps a bathrobe around himself while he goes to let his curls air-dry and wait for Kakyoin to get back from the library. Things like this don't work unless you talk about them; that's been true for boyfriends and for kinks alike. They'll have to talk about it. They should talk about it.
He wants to talk about it.
And so he waits, patiently, thinking and thinking and thinking, letting himself relax and wind down as the time ticks by slowly, and every passing minute brings Kakyoin a little closer to home.]
But he's had it on his mind, at the very least. Things he and Kakyoin had talked about during their last encounter, Kakyoin's budding fascination with testing control and experimenting with the role of leash-holder — he thinks about it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he considers that this might be another way in which they're compatible, just like they are in so many other things. It's just a matter of figuring it out first.
He comes home from work. He takes a thoughtful shower. He dons one of his few remaining T-shirts (thanks to his boyfriends stealing them all) and a loose pair of boxers, and wraps a bathrobe around himself while he goes to let his curls air-dry and wait for Kakyoin to get back from the library. Things like this don't work unless you talk about them; that's been true for boyfriends and for kinks alike. They'll have to talk about it. They should talk about it.
He wants to talk about it.
And so he waits, patiently, thinking and thinking and thinking, letting himself relax and wind down as the time ticks by slowly, and every passing minute brings Kakyoin a little closer to home.]
-no reason at all why it shouldn't work. There's no good reason for chroma-sensitive switches not to work with demichroma. It's ridiculous.
[ He's complaining furiously to himself before the door's even open, which is growing more and more common these days. Not because the work itself is getting any more difficult, but because he's hit the point in his learning where problems are no longer frequently being caused by his own lack of experience and instead are being caused by things out of his control. In this case, part manufacturers. He hands off his bag to Hierophant as he tries to get his shoes lined up just so.
But Jotaro is there, all warm and soft from the shower, and his complaining lowers into a soft, irritable grumbling as he flops onto the couch next to him. Less snapping, more comfortable irritation at something that only really matters a little. Nobody is going to die. It's nice, in its own way, to just fold himself into something that fits neatly and comfortably into the negative space left by Jotaro and be annoyed with something that won't really hurt anyone that much. ]
A whole day. I had to spend all day to figure out what was going wrong, and it's that they made a shoddy product. Assholes.
[ He's complaining furiously to himself before the door's even open, which is growing more and more common these days. Not because the work itself is getting any more difficult, but because he's hit the point in his learning where problems are no longer frequently being caused by his own lack of experience and instead are being caused by things out of his control. In this case, part manufacturers. He hands off his bag to Hierophant as he tries to get his shoes lined up just so.
But Jotaro is there, all warm and soft from the shower, and his complaining lowers into a soft, irritable grumbling as he flops onto the couch next to him. Less snapping, more comfortable irritation at something that only really matters a little. Nobody is going to die. It's nice, in its own way, to just fold himself into something that fits neatly and comfortably into the negative space left by Jotaro and be annoyed with something that won't really hurt anyone that much. ]
A whole day. I had to spend all day to figure out what was going wrong, and it's that they made a shoddy product. Assholes.
WARN ME BEFORE INVITING LARGE WHITE DOGS INTO THE HOUSE.
ANGRIER MESSAGE TO FOLLOW.
ANGRIER MESSAGE TO FOLLOW.
Edited 2021-10-14 22:54 (UTC)
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