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Hot Town (Summer in Morioh-Cho)

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That Josuke hadn't bothered to style his hair that morning was testament to how hot it was. Even with the AC running at full blast, Rohan's house was ultimately too old, too big, and too poorly insulated to cope with Morioh's hottest day of the year.

Correction: the hottest day of the year, so far. It had been a miserable summer—one of the hottest on record, and Rohan was seriously considering abandoning the heat and humidity for cooler climes. Antarctica, maybe.

Of course, that would also mean abandoning Josuke for the rest of the summer. Loathe as he was to admit it, Rohan had actually grown fond of his sometimes friend and part-time lover. 

College looked good on Josuke, tempering his pride and giving him a newfound maturity and confidence that didn't hide behind his hair. Rohan liked it. Liked, also, the new breadth of muscle on Josuke's already wide shoulders. Liked the extra centimeter added to Josuke's damnably too-tall frame since last summer.

And Rohan particularly liked the way Josuke looked sprawled out on his office floor, wearing little more than a thin black tank top and a pair of purple boxer-briefs. Rohan had already caught himself twice that morning, sketching the long lines of Josuke's back, the curve of his ass, the wild tangle of his hair.

Rohan looked down at his illustration board and grimaced. Three times .

Ridiculous. The heat was ridiculous. Josuke was ridiculous. This whole thing was…


“Go put some clothes on,” Rohan snapped, refusing to acknowledge the flush on his cheeks. It was the heat, and certainly not the fact that he was so easily distracted.

Josuke lifted his cheek from where it had been pressed against the cool wood floor. His hair stuck to his forehead and neck. He pouted at Rohan. “But it's so hot!”

Damn Josuke, that expression should not have been so attractive on a twenty year old man. Rohan steeled his spine.

“Then go home. I’m sure the air conditioning works better at your mother's house.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sitting up and stretching. He pulled his hair back like he wanted to tie it up. “But you're not there and I dunno... I like watching you work.”

That was more flattering than it should have been. Rohan was used to praise from friends and fans alike. People begged for mere scraps of his time. But from Josuke, who didn't even like manga… Rohan's heart seemed to beat a little faster. He hated it. Loved it.

He didn't even know anymore.

“At least put some pants on,” Rohan insisted. He'd miss the view, but goddammit, Josuke was so—

“Am I distracting?”

Rohan glared at the knowing smile plastered across Josuke's smug, pretty face. He was caught. No matter what he said, Josuke had the upper hand now. Rohan would have ignored him, but it was too late for even that.

Insufferable ,” he said, putting as much venom into the word as possible. 

It didn't faze Josuke. He got to his knees, purposefully arching his back and drawing a hand across his collarbone. He kept eye contact the whole time, daring Rohan to look away. He played coy far too well for a man of his size, looking up through the fringe of long lashes and unruly strands of hair.

Rohan licked his lips and his fingers twitched for a pen. Now he wanted to draw Josuke, but he was reluctant to break the tension building between them. 

“It's too hot for this,” he protested, but it sounded weak to his own ears.

“So take some clothes off ,” Josuke said. It wasn't a request. 

Despite the thick heat, Rohan actually shivered. “Make me.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. Rohan regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Josuke's grin widened and he sat back on his heels, spreading his thighs and pushing his hips forward. He traced one big hand from his throat down his torso to his groin, slowly and deliberately drawing Rohan's attention to the way his muscles flexed and the way his cock filled out his underwear. 

Rohan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He crossed his legs to avoid squirming in his chair. Appearing nonchalant in the face of Josuke's antics had never been one of his strong suits.

If he'd still been holding a pen, Rohan likely would have snapped it as Josuke dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of his shorts. He tugged the violently violet fabric down far enough to offer a peek of hip bone and a trail of fine black hair. Rohan committed to memory the way Josuke looked at him as he drew the hem of his shirt up, his eyes somehow managing to be both pleading and dangerous. A lion offering his belly.

Rohan dug his fingers into the arms of his chair, because fuck if he didn't want to run over and pet those delicious abs.

He uncrossed and recrossed his legs. Tilted his chin up, trying to appear haughty and appraising. “I'm still clothed, Josuke. And I'm getting bored.”

“Liar,” Josuke snorted. “But I guess I'm gonna have to be more hands-on, huh? Should I come over there and get you naked or d'you want Crazy D to do it?”

“Get your lazy ass over here and do it yourself,” Rohan bit out, refusing to admit that he actually liked the idea of Josuke using his Stand to strip him down. They'd flirted with similar ideas before, but it was the first time he thought Josuke would actually do it if he asked. Rohan wasn't quite ready for that. It seemed too intimate.

They weren't that close. Not really. Right?

Not that it didn't feel intimate when Josuke crawled across the floor to kneel at Rohan's feet. When he stripped off his tank and shook his hair away from his face. Really, when had Josuke started wearing it down around Rohan in the first place? 

He put his hands on Rohan's knees, forcing his legs to uncross and his thighs to part. He settled his broad chest between them, gripping Rohan's hips and pulling him closer. Looking up, Josuke gave him an earnest smile that was less predator and more puppy.

Rohan couldn't resist cupping Josuke's face in both hands and leaning down to kiss him. He was weak. How could one person do this to him? How could Josuke , such a contradictory mess of arrogance and ridiculousness and kindness and loyalty become the one person to wiggle past all of Kishibe Rohan's defenses and make him so… so sentimental?

“You're so unfair,” Rohan breathed against his plush lips.


“Nothing.” Another kiss. A distraction.

Josuke went along with it, circling his hands around Rohan's wrists, kissing him like a dream. Rohan didn't even bother to stifle his moan. He'd always loved kissing Josuke and the younger man knew it. Turned it to his advantage whenever possible.


Rohan could be unfair too. He slid his hands into Josuke's hair, finding it silky soft and smelling of his own shampoo and conditioner. He wrapped it around his fingers, tangling and pulling until Josuke groaned.

“Thought you were going to undress me,” Rohan purred, drawing away with a teasing flick of his tongue to Josuke's lips.

“Thought you said it was too hot,” he replied, the impish smile back on his face.

“I say a lot of things. I can't be held responsible for them all.”

The smile faltered. Something flickered in Josuke's eyes that Rohan couldn't decipher. It had been years since he felt the urge to open Josuke up and Read him like a book, but Rohan wanted to know what that look meant. He was afraid to ask.

“Undress me, Josuke,” he said instead. More distractions. “Please.”

The “please” was enough to get Josuke into motion. He slid his hands up Rohan's legs, up his stomach. He caught the edge of the white crop top, pushing upwards until Rohan lifted his arms to help take it off. Despite the heat, gooseflesh pimpled on Rohan's pale skin. His nipples peaked beneath Josuke's thumbs. He shuddered out a breath.

He might have whispered another “please.”

“You're so pretty,” Josuke murmured. He probably hadn't meant for Rohan to hear. A flush colored his cheeks and he pressed his face against Rohan's thigh. It was cute.

When Rohan didn't scold him for being a sap or insult him for saying the obvious, Josuke looked up, still blushing, but smiling. Rohan stroked his hair affectionately and found himself smiling back when Josuke leaned into it. He really was a puppy. So eager to please.

Josuke kissed Rohan's hand, reverently enough to make the artist catch his breath. He let Josuke keep doing it despite the way his heart wanted to pound out of his chest. This felt more like worship than a need to please and be praised for it. Once, Rohan might have brushed it off as receiving his due. His ego certainly didn't need stroking, but it was always more than welcome.

Except… Josuke didn't do that. Never did. He had, in fact, once spent a considerable amount of time trying to knock Rohan's pride into the dirt. 

When had things changed? When had they become important to each other?

And why did Rohan want that?

Before Rohan could grow too uncomfortable with his revelation, Josuke let go of his hand. He reached for the buckle on Rohan's belt. That was somehow far less intimate than what he'd just been doing. Rohan breathed out a sigh and arched his hips forward to help.

Josuke dragged white linen pants and silk boxers down Rohan's legs, pausing to remove his shoes and socks before stripping him fully. Rohan complained about the careless way Josuke tossed his clothes to the floor, but his protests were blatantly ignored. They vanished altogether when Josuke kissed his way up his thighs.

He looked up, keeping eye contact as he brushed his cheek against Rohan's cock. He licked his lips, taunting, tempting. Waiting .


He shivered, eyes fluttering shut. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

Rohan wanted to dismiss that far too intimate statement with a biting insult, but Josuke didn't give him a chance to dwell on it. He wrapped his hand around Rohan’s cock, fingers squeezing firmly, thumb pressing just right against the underside of the glans. Rohan gave a gasp, quickly smothering it behind closed lips and gritted teeth. 

Josuke heard anyway, smiling with satisfaction. His pretty lips pressed against the very tip of Rohan's cock, a gentle tease that earned another shuddering breath. He shouldered Rohan's thighs open until they were spread wide and his ass was perched on the very edge of his chair. 

Rohan watched Josuke's tongue slip out to lap at his tip, those vivid, indigo eyes shadowed by impossibly long lashes. When his hair fell in the way of the view, Rohan reached out to gather it into one hand. Josuke sighed appreciatively and kept licking, the strokes of his tongue growing longer and wetter. 

Rohan had always liked to watch his partners during sex, but Josuke was by far his favorite. He was so expressive, with a mouth made for cocksucking and a desperate need to prove himself. And at this point, he didn't have much to prove. All of his conceit was very well deserved.

With a breathy moan, Rohan settled back in his chair, bare shoulders sticking to the leather, and watched Josuke from under drooping eyelids. He murmured soft praises—it wouldn't do to feed Josuke's ego too much—and occasional instructions. Not that Josuke listened. He knew what Rohan liked.

Fingers thicker than his own played over Rohan's inner thighs. The chair creaked as he was spread wider—wider for those teasing hands, wider for those broad shoulders—as Josuke swallowed the whole of Rohan's cock. The smooth, wet sensation of filling his lover's throat in one slow push tore a cry from Rohan's lips. He dug his nails into Josuke's scalp.

“Don't… don't fucking stop…” he all but snarled. Josuke arched an eyebrow, fucking smirking at him with his mouth full of dick. Rohan wanted to murder him, but Josuke was pulling back, his tongue dragging sweetly along the underside. A slow breath, purposely drawing air across the head of Rohan's cock, then Josuke went down again. 

And again. And again, until Rohan's head fell back against the chair and he was shifting his hips in frustration. His feet couldn't reach the floor with the way Josuke had him spread out. He couldn't get enough leverage to buck his hips up and fuck that delicious mouth the way he wanted. The chair creaked beneath his futile efforts.

The room grew hotter. Sweat pooled at the small of Rohan's back and dripped from his temple. His skin stuck more firmly to the leather chair. He felt dizzy. Suddenly remembering to breathe, Rohan took a deep gulp of air, but it didn't help much. The air conditioning was no match for the summer heat and two grown men fucking in a closed room. 

Rohan managed to get a foot on one of Josuke's shoulders, finding his skin just as hot and sweat slicked as his own. He tangled his fingers into Josuke's hair. It wasn't much, but it allowed him just enough control to speed up Josuke's infuriatingly slow tempo.

One eye cracked open to pin him with a knowing gaze. It was Josuke who allowed him any semblance of control. Josuke who gave, willingly letting Rohan take. It would be very little effort for Josuke to put Rohan back in place, legs in the air, and keep going at his own pace. But he didn't. He looked pleased. Content, even, that he had driven Rohan into snapping. And somehow the knowledge that Josuke wanted Rohan to do as he pleased, trusted him with his body after all of the times it had been broken…

Too much. It was too much.

“Fuck… you fucking…” Rohan couldn't come up with an insult strong enough. Did he even want to hurl insults now? Endearments? Declarations of love or lust or… 

His thoughts were scattering. He fucked up into Josuke's mouth harder. Faster. And Josuke let him. Encouraged him. Those eyes, those fucking beautiful eyes didn't look away.

“J-Josuke… Jojo…” Rohan arched back, his head pressing into the chair, neck at an uncomfortable angle. His toes curled. 

Josuke gripped Rohan's thighs tightly. That was probably the only reason the chair didn't go tumbling backwards. Not that Rohan would have cared at that moment. He was too busy cataloging the way his body seized, every muscle going tense as his vision greyed out and Josuke’s throat convulsed around his cock. Swallowing. Drinking him down like he could taste Rohan's soul.

A still silence settled in Rohan's ears before the blood began rushing back. Time seemed to start again. His heart seemed to beat again. His lungs remembered to breathe.

Josuke pulled back with a wet cough, wiping at his cheeks and mouth. He looked a beautiful mess. More so than usual with his hair down.

Rohan liked it. He reached out to run a gentle thumb over Josuke's swollen lower lip. He started to say something. He hesitated. 

“What is it?” Damn Josuke. He was always so observant when Rohan least wanted it.

“Did you come?” he asked instead. Josuke's blush was more than enough answer, but it wasn't enough of a distraction. 

“That's not what you wanted to say.”

No. It wasn't. Rohan glanced away from those eyes, that honest face. His skin stuck unpleasantly to the chair as he sat up. As he pulled away from Josuke. 

Sex was easy. They were good at that part. Even when it had been frustrated fucking up against a wall, three years of tension finally snapping between them, it had been good. Simple. Rohan saw no reason for that to change, even if they were usually gentler with each other now. Emotions only complicated things.

“Hey.” There was something serious in Josuke’s voice that made Rohan look up. He didn't look like a puppy now. “What did you want to say to me, Rohan?”

The afterglow was fading into something hot and sticky. Uncomfortable. Rohan reached for it before it could slip away completely. Before Josuke slipped away into that unreadable expression he'd worn before.

Rohan traced a fingertip along Josuke's jaw, thinking again how much he'd like to paint him. Keep him. Love him.


“You're mine, Higashikata,” he said quickly. Quietly.

“Are you just saying that?” Josuke asked, sounding strangely uncertain. “Or can I hold you responsible?”

Rohan took a deep breath. There it was. Responsibility. Complications. But dear gods, he wanted to know what was like to leap headfirst into those messy emotions Josuke made him feel. 

“I don't know,” he admitted. “But let's find out.”