starmark | IC Inbox | prismatica

He's a good boy.

[And it's hard to say who originated the love of hands working through his hair, Star or his master, but it's apparent either way that they both relish it. Even as Star's eyes stay fixed on Kakyoin, pupils dilated almost until the irises can barely be seen, Jotaro breathes out a shaky sigh, confined only to secondhand sensation and bearing up to it like a champion.

Ora, Star murmurs, and pets his hands against Kakyoin's hips before raising his face and tugging lightly on the hanging drape of the skirt, trying to urge him into remembering the kiss he's been promised.]

So good. You're so good.

[ He almost does forget that Star's knelt here because he was promised a kiss, he's so occupied by stand petting. But Star's good at reminding him. And it's charming, the gentle but insistent tug at the front of his skirt. Star wide-eyed and staring up at him.

He takes one hand from his hair to stroke it down his jaw, then bends down to kiss him. It's like kissing sunlight. Warm and soft and bright in a way that he knows from experience he can sense even blind. Like kissing a wall of wind, solid and nothing both at once. ]

[It's not the first time that Star has been kissed, and it almost certainly won't be the last; that experience shows in the way Star turns pliant shortly after their lips make contact, moving in rhythm with Kakyoin even as he stays receptive, never trying to seize control. Star knows, after all, that being kissed means he's been good; it's his favorite reward for being a good boy, after all.

His hands, big and steady, stay still at first, but as the kiss starts to draw to a close they turn more playful, moving in slow circles that just so happen to have the side effect of making the skirt's fabric shift and bunch, riding up just a touch here and nudging back just a fraction there. It's all just a perfect accident, except for how teasingly it exposes just a bit more skin, more focused on implication than on actual outcome.]

[ It's different from kissing Jotaro himself, even though it maybe shouldn't be. Him leading and Star following, rather than the messy attempts to both lead in different directions. Jotaro likes to do stupid little things he wasn't expecting to catch him off guard, but Star is just- good. Just good. ]

Thank you for keeping Jotaro safe. For everything you've done for us. My Star. My perfect, beautiful Star.

[ It's saccharine. It was meant to be Adrian doing this, so he'd thought he should speak to Star the way Adrian does. Except that he's never actually witnessed Adrian speaking to Star, which is somewhat of an impediment to doing that. So instead he goes with what feels natural. The kind of thing the princess would whisper to her knight in the painting that he fell into the second that Star knelt. In any other situation he'd be horrified at himself. But Star deserves saccharine. Star is good. He kisses Star again as he whispers words against his lips, quick and light this time. Makes sure he commits the texture of his lips to memory.

When he draws back his face is just a little more flushed. It's flattering and charming both at once, the way that Star is so gentle while he touches him. So curious. Revealing more and more skin, little by little, like there's something new to see with every little sliver of pale against black cloth.

One of his hands is still in Star's hair, twisting locks of it slowly around his fingers. The other settles over one of Star's hands. ]

Do you want your presents now?

His "present"...isn't that you?

[Unable to help himself, Jotaro's got his wrist between his lips, biting faintly at the knob of flesh just for something to do with his mouth. That feeling of Kakyoin's mouth moving over Star's, with nothing solid to back it up — it's almost too much to bear, without some sort of relief.

The connection goes both ways; he's always known that. He just wasn't expecting how potent it could really be, feeling Star's emotions reflected back into him, when normally it's the other way around.]

Oh, fuck.

[Looking up at Kakyoin, Star beams, smiling with all his perfect white teeth before twitching his head in the opposite direction of Kakyoin's fingers, making the strands tug in a way that seems to satisfy him immensely.

Oraora, Star confirms, his hand below Kakyoin's moving just slightly toward the inside of his thigh, not enough to betray the hold that Kakyoin has on it, but enough to ask an unmistakable question.]

There are actual presents, Jotaro. I know how birthdays work.

[ Which is to say that he doesn't, at all, but that he won't tolerate any slight, real or perceived.

But it's hard to be even pretend mad when Star is looking at him like that. Like even with his ability to perceive every last detail, there's nothing he'd rather be looking at right now. He curls his fingers tighter in Star's hair, making sure to spread the tug of it between each strand. His other hand leaves Star's for just a moment. Just long enough to tug at the ribbon at the side loosely lacing the front and back of the dress together. It moves through the bottom few eyelets as he pulls it over to Star's hand, making a breath-quiet sound as it pulls through them.

He offers it to Star, so that he can pull it away the rest of the way. Traps it between Star's hand and his own when he rests his hand against Star's again. ]

But there is- there is also me. If you would rather that first.

If you let him have you, he'll forget about the actual presents.

[Or maybe that's just Jotaro, but that's not the point. The point is, Star is clearly trying to pay attention to this gift of the ribbon that he's been given, but he can't seem to hold his attention on it. Not when it keeps drifting back to Kakyoin's face, to watching his every expression so intently.]

So. Better do those...first...

Presents first, then.

[ A tendril stretches out of the sleeve of his dress. It goes to Star first, stroking over the side of his face, and then leaves into another room. Kakyoin busies himself with continuing to comb his fingers through Star's hair as it finds its way into hiding places, eventually returning with a box and a thick envelope. Both are wrapped in thin purple paper, decorated with gold ribbons and little gold star stickers. Hierophant holds the envelope out to Star. ]

This first. It's- The box is from both of us. This one's just from me.

[ The contents of the envelope are a few sheets of stick-on earrings. ]

I know they're stupid. But Jotaro and I both have them, and we can't exactly have your ears pierced, and I don't think we could make clip-ons work. So-

[ -so they seemed like a better idea up until about 5 seconds ago, and now he's feeling incredibly self-conscious about them. This was a mistake. This is childish. ]

[Carefully, Star takes the envelope when he's bidden to, his huge fingers displaying an unusually deft precision as he slits the paper and carefully opens the envelope and withdraws the sheets within. And it's apparent, as he brings them out, that this particular gift is a little beyond Star's ken at first; without Jotaro looking and providing implicit context, Star spends a second or two at a loss, examining the prettily-colored stickers with an uncertain but appreciative eye.

It's only after Kakyoin clarifies that his demeanor changes, courtesy of sufficient feedback from Jotaro, who still isn't looking but is doing his best to wingman from the couch.]

On your ears, Star. Like his. See his?

[Star's eyes flick up, fixating on Kakyoin's earrings, and his eyes widen fractionally with sudden understanding. Eagerly, he tugs on Kakyoin's sleeve, pointing to a pair of green diamond earrings on the sticker sheet before turning his head to present one of his ears, hopeful.]

[ He relaxes, once it becomes clear that the self-deprecation is unneeded. The earrings are stupid and childish, yes, but Star likes them. That's what matters. Star liked them even before he really understood what they were.

He wasn't expecting Star to pick the pair that he does. The yellow circles are right there, not exactly matching Jotaro's studs but close enough. But Star chooses differently. The significance of the shape and colour isn't lost on him. Carefully, he strokes Star's hair out of the way with one hand and unpeels the first earring from the sticker sheet and presses it against Star's ear with the other. ]

It's on there. [ He says softly, twirling the lock of hair he'd moved out of the way around one finger before releasing it. ] Turn around, so I can do the other?

[Ora ora, Star answers, sounding unmistakably pleased even as he turns his head and presents his other earlobe for its adornment.]

He's really happy, you know.

[Says Jotaro, who almost can't keep a grin off his face, from how heavily Star's sentiments are bleeding over through their connection.]

He likes having things that are his. Being special, y'know...?

I'm glad. I was worried it might all be too childish.

[ He takes the other earring as he speaks, pressing it against Star's ear, then leans forward to kiss what passes to the shell of his ear. ]

You're so pretty. We'll show Jotaro, okay? Soon, once we're done.

[ Hierophant brings the other gift over to Star. It's about the size of a shoebox, carefully wrapped. ]

This one is from both Adrian and I.

[Ever so gently, once the stickers are in place, Star raises a single finger and gingerly rests it against his earlobes, feeling the makeshift earrings with the utmost care and consideration. It seems to delight him, having them in place, and after a minute he nods slightly, more to avoid dislodging them than out of any lack of enthusiasm.

Then comes the second gift, bigger than the first, and Star takes it reverently, holding the box a minute before removing the paper just as carefully for this package as he'd had for the first.]

Both of you, huh...

[AND JOTARO CONTINUES TO SUFFER, CONFINED TO THE COUCH AND FORBIDDEN FROM LOOKING.]

Then he's definitely going to love it.

[ It's a box. A wooden one, painted with the same purple and gold swirls that cover Star's skin.

(The was Adrian's input, technically. He stole his paints.)

When the hinged lid is opened, it plays a twee little musicbox song, whatever the Lunatian version of swan lake is, and a small glittery star spins in front of a mirror set in the lid. It's lined with a dark blue cloth and it's empty aside from three small haircombs, each decorated with a gold star. ]

If you're going to have things of your own, it only seems right that you should have somewhere to put them.

[ And because Star needed the earrings explained, he'll probably need help with the combs, too. Kakyoin turns his head, raising his hand to point out one he's wearing in his own hair. ]

Adrian has one, too. So you can match both of us. Do you want me to put them in for you?

Something that's just his...

[So whispers Jotaro, acting translator for his Stand as Star reverently examines the little box and its spinning charm, touching it with the very tip of his finger before turning his attention to the combs nestled within. Kakyoin isn't wrong that Star doesn't know what to do with them at first, but the demonstration gets him up to speed quickly; reaching into the box, Star retrieves one of the combs and pushes it into his hair in an identical position to Kakyoin's —

...albeit with none of the actual technical know-how needed to make it stay in place, which is why shortly after he lets it go, it droops and sags like it's about to tumble out again.]

Right, just yours. You'll have to choose where you want to keep it.

[ He's uncharacteristically fond, uncharacteristically patient as he watches Star struggle with the comb. Mostly because it's Star and he can't exactly get impatient with him. Partially because the longer this takes, the longer Jotaro has to suffer and wait and that's funny. ]

Not quite. [ He's about to do it for him, but then thinks better of it, placing his hand on Star's instead of the comb and guiding it up to the one in his own hair. Letting him feel the way the teeth are buried in the hair. ] You can practice with mine, if you like.

Fuck, Nori, I haven't even gotten to look at you yet...

[Read: he knows his boyfriend through and through and yes he knows this is stalling by now. Such is his suffering. Such is his commitment not to cheat and peek, too, but that's not the point.

Gingerly, Star touches the comb in Kakyoin's hair, investigating, then returns to his own and feels against his own hair like he's trying to analogize between one and the other. But then, after a thoughtful moment, Star shakes his head and offers the comb back to Kakyoin, lowering his head like an obedient puppy.

Ora, he says insistently, a pleading request.]

Because it's not your birthday.

[ He doesn't even deny it. But he does comb a hand through Star's hair while he investigates, trying to find a balance between bullying one half of his boyfriend and spoiling the other.

He has to wonder, because he has to wonder about all things, whether Star's giving up on putting in the comb himself has more to do with actually giving up or sharing Jotaro's impatience. Or perhaps impatience of his own, wanting Jotaro to see him. Or wanting Jotaro to see him, bringing him a thing he wants the way he always has.

Perhaps he just wants him to touch his hair.

Carefully, he takes a section of Star's hair and slides the comb into it, pinning it back. Then he takes another from the box, sliding the remaining two combs slowly into place. Pinning stars into the swirling void that is Star's hair. ]

There we go. [ And he rearranges himself just slightly. Rests his hands on Star's shoulders in a way that'll make himself easy to carry one-handed so the other hand can be used for the box. So that Star gets to show him to Jotaro, rather than just inviting Jotaro to turn. ] You can show Jotaro, if you like. Only if you want to. It's up to you whether or not you want to share.

[The noise Star makes as Kakyoin's deft fingers begin to sink the combs into his hair is perhaps best described as a purr; it's low and rough and self-satisfied, and Star's eyes fall closed as he seems to melt beneath the feeling of it, having gotten precisely what he wanted from the request.

Whenever he disappears, the combs won't follow, of course; his collar wouldn't either, and neither will the makeshift earrings. They'll tumble to the ground without a mop of hair to hold them, left behind after their owner has vanished. But that's a problem for another time, because right now Star has no intention of disappearing. Quite the contrary, he lets his new decorations get settled in, then sets the box aside and turns his attention fully to Kakyoin for a long, thoughtful moment.

In another second, his mind made up, Star moves — this time, catching hold of the forgotten ribbon ties lacing the sides of Kakyoin's dress shut and working them free eyelet by eyelet. Yet he never undoes them altogether; rather, it quickly becomes apparent that what Star's after in that moment is simply marring the previous perfection of Kakyoin's appearance — mostly leaving him intact, yet rendering it undeniable that hands have been on him, exploring him, enjoying the gift that he is.

And tease Star does — stroking Kakyoin's sides through the fabric, dipping beneath it in the front to trace shapes on the insides of his thighs, dipping to kiss at the bend in his knee and doing everything he can to muss and fluster him, wanting his final present beautifully disheveled before he ultimately shows him off to his master.]

[ It's not as if he didn't know that Star wanted to touch him. It's just that he didn't know Star wanted to touch him right this moment. He'd thought he'd want to go to Jotaro right away to present his gifts, not pause to-

-oh.

The realisation that this is Star making him better to show off hits at the same time as Star's lips touch his legs and air pulls into his lungs as a gasp and leaves them as the kind of exhale that catches in the throat and comes out too thick, pushing out of him with a soft noise that isn't quite voice but is more than just breath. Star doesn't want him put together, when Jotaro sees him. And maybe it's just because Jotaro prefers him messed up and flustered and a little out of his depth.

But maybe it's because that means that Jotaro doesn't get to see what he looked like at first, when he was perfect. So that can stay something that's only his. And he'll find some way later to word why that thought is so appealing to him but the point right now is just that it is. ]

Star- [ He's still bad at making actual word noises, at these kinds of times. It's embarrassing. It always feels like he'll say something wrong. But he wants to. He doesn't usually want to. He wants to encourage Star. He wants to make it clear to Jotaro that something's happening that he can't see. It's still difficult. It's still embarrassing. But Star won't judge him. Star won't even gently tease him about sounding stupid. Star probably isn't capable of thinking he sounds stupid.

His voice is still strained with the effort it takes to actually get words out of himself, even more than it's strained with arousal. The little whines that escape him as he tries to force himself to make words happen and keep track of the shapes Star is drawing against his thigh probably say more than the words he ends up with. But he manages. ] -good. You're so good.

He is good. He's a good boy.

[Fuck, fuck, that's his Stand making Kakyoin make those noises. That's Star, that's part of him and yet not altogether him, that's part of his soul guided by his will and yet autonomous in his own right, and when left to his own devices, what that part of him wants is to wreck Kakyoin into a disheveled mess that makes noises like that.

And it's true that Star is enjoying himself; he's taking his time, coaxing out those sounds, pulling Kakyoin's ribbon ties loose but not free and letting them hang haphazard against his legs, nibbling and kissing and encouraging a blush to blossom in his skin, and when he's finally content to pause, Star rises up to his feet and scoops Kakyoin up into the crook of just one arm — just one, because that's all it takes to lift him.

Oraora, he pronounces, looking to Kakyoin as if for confirmation and agreement, before retrieving his box and tipping his head toward the couch, intent on taking him over to put him on display.]

[ He tries his best to make more words, he really does, but Star's teeth graze lightly against the inside of his thigh and the noise that comes out of him is so embarrassing that all future noises have to be approved by the brain until further notice and the brain has so, so many other things to deal with right now.

By the time he lets Star lift him, lets him treat him as if he's something small and delicate that needs to be treated with the utmost care, he has to untangle his hands from his hair. His breaths come shallow and shaky and don't happen unless he holds his mouth open just a little. The flush on his face spreads from ear to each and down below the collar of the dress, reappearing on the backs of his hands, stretching down to his knuckles. He's soft, pliable, leaning against Star and folding himself neatly in the crook of his arm. It'd be incorrect to describe him as a mess, if only because a mess implies carelessness. Very little about this is careless. He's been methodically, carefully rendered imperfect.

This is, apparently, how Star wants Jotaro to see him. ]

Close your eyes. [ He says, and his voice doesn't sound quite as firm as it ought to. He's conveniently placed to kiss Star's jaw, just below his new stick-on earring. So he does that. ] You can open them when Star says so.

He's my Stand.

[The protest itself is a lot more irritable than any sentiment that Jotaro is actually feeling; mostly it's just sort of comical to be the one pushing back against Kakyoin's insistence on treating Star like he's an entirely separate person of his own, much less his co-conspirator in these particular suggestive shenanigans.

But he closes his eyes anyway, because he knows how this game is played and the last thing he's going to be is a bad sport about it, and he waits patiently while Star brings his precious cargo around to arrange them both in front of Jotaro, just a few feet away — in perfect viewing range, but too far to reach out and touch.

That, too, is deliberate.

Ora, Star decides at last, and slowly Jotaro opens his eyes to the sight that he's already half-perceived through sound and touch, and his eyes don't stop at merely "open" but keep getting wider and wider as he winds up taking it all in.]

Holy shit.

[At least Kakyoin won't be alone in his hue; Jotaro's gone fairly red right along with him.]

Holy shit. You're — you're. Wow.

So he'll know when it's right for you to open them.

[ Star sets him down and he holds on, keeping one hand rested against him. Jotaro isn't going to be an asshole about this. He knows that. If Jotaro was going to react in any way other than positively then Star would have, too. Jotaro is going to look at him like he's beautiful and say nice things and it's still difficult.

For a split second he wants to run away and put on trousers and find someone who he doesn't like and make them feel stupid and worthless until he feels like himself again. But he can't, because he's holding on to Star. It's only a split second. The vulnerability only feels uncomfortable in tiny little fragments of time that end when Jotaro's eyes open.

There isn't really any time for self-doubt once Jotaro's eyes open, even before he speaks. ]

It's a special occasion. [ He offers as explanation, because it feels slightly less ridiculous in the moment than 'I thought it would make you happy'. ] I think Star likes it.

...Yeah...

[Unconsciously, he's sitting forward in his seat, eyes never leaving Kakyoin as he seems to naturally gravitate closer to him — at least, as much as he can without leaving his designated spot on the couch, from which he has not yet been authorized to move.]

Fuck, I'm — I don't want to say it wrong. What I think. How you look.

[Because that is very much not trousers and it's not a school uniform and it's not...masculine, but all the words he wants to use might come with connotations and he's not nearly artful enough — or coherent enough, even — to trust himself with all that right now.]

You're...so pretty.

IC Inbox | prismatica

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