[He feels it, the wet heat of Kakyoin's unshed tears against his skin, and just like that, the composure of a boy with the power of a god shatters.
He's held it together for so long now, because he had to. Even after things changed for the better. Even after Kakyoin was dead and wasn't again, and Speedwagon showed up from the past with his charge to hunt the Corpse Parts, and jumping from this rift to the next and the next, different times, different eras, different people — he'd held it together, because he had to, because there was still work yet to be done.
Then he'd gone back over it all like a gardener with his bonsai, trimming here and there, making the slightest changes to the existing tree to make it divert where it needed to — never an upheaval, never a roundabout, but little interventions as simple as he held on a little longer, help got there in time.
And now he's here. Back in the arms of the people he loves, giving more of himself — and willingly, utterly, tenderly — to them because they need him, making sure they're all right, bringing the world back to equilibrium once again —
And Kakyoin whispers I missed you, and finally Jotaro Kujo gets the gift of being allowed to break.
His hands scrabble at Kakyoin's clothes, digging into the fabric with more desperation than before as he shifts from holding to clinging and his breath turns ragged, and maybe he ought to be loath to let anyone see him cry, but that's a problem that doesn't even come close to being on his radar right now.
His voice is thick and choked. He's crying, too, not that anyone can see it — a secret pressed against Kakyoin's hair for safekeeping.]
M-Missed you too...
[He doesn't get to break. He doesn't get to be weak. He doesn't get to be anything but the person everyone depends on, the pillar of support they all know will stand sure as stone.
Except that this time he does. Wrapped up in his living not-dead not-zombie not-gone boyfriend on a rooftop in a city in the middle of no-one-knows-where, he gets to stop and breathe and cry.
no subject
He's held it together for so long now, because he had to. Even after things changed for the better. Even after Kakyoin was dead and wasn't again, and Speedwagon showed up from the past with his charge to hunt the Corpse Parts, and jumping from this rift to the next and the next, different times, different eras, different people — he'd held it together, because he had to, because there was still work yet to be done.
Then he'd gone back over it all like a gardener with his bonsai, trimming here and there, making the slightest changes to the existing tree to make it divert where it needed to — never an upheaval, never a roundabout, but little interventions as simple as he held on a little longer, help got there in time.
And now he's here. Back in the arms of the people he loves, giving more of himself — and willingly, utterly, tenderly — to them because they need him, making sure they're all right, bringing the world back to equilibrium once again —
And Kakyoin whispers I missed you, and finally Jotaro Kujo gets the gift of being allowed to break.
His hands scrabble at Kakyoin's clothes, digging into the fabric with more desperation than before as he shifts from holding to clinging and his breath turns ragged, and maybe he ought to be loath to let anyone see him cry, but that's a problem that doesn't even come close to being on his radar right now.
His voice is thick and choked. He's crying, too, not that anyone can see it — a secret pressed against Kakyoin's hair for safekeeping.]
M-Missed you too...
[He doesn't get to break. He doesn't get to be weak. He doesn't get to be anything but the person everyone depends on, the pillar of support they all know will stand sure as stone.
Except that this time he does. Wrapped up in his living not-dead not-zombie not-gone boyfriend on a rooftop in a city in the middle of no-one-knows-where, he gets to stop and breathe and cry.
And he does.]