
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11200311.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Higashikata_Josuke/Kujo_Jotaro
  Character:
      Higashikata_Josuke_(JoJo:_Diamond_is_Unbreakable), Kujo_Jotaro
  Additional Tags:
      Sex_Pollen, Mutual_Pining, Uncle/Nephew_Incest, Sexual_Tension, Age
      Difference
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-14 Completed: 2017-07-06 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 14732
****** What I Need Is A Good Defense ******
by thekurosakiconundrum
Summary
     An encounter with an inhibition-lowering Stand brings some things to
     light for Josuke and Jotaro. Dealing with that is going to be
     difficult, for both of them.
Notes
     Hello! I'm KC, I'm new to this fandom, and I am super super thirsty
     for some Jojos, these two in particular.
      
     **edit at a later date**
     So uhhhh I have a_tumblr now.
     It's a jojo fanfiction ask blog... you can ask for virtually anything
     (there's an faq page specifying the bounds of "virtually anything")
     and I'll write you at least 1000 words of fic about it. SFW and NSFW
     requests accepted.
     I'll also post all responses (such as this one) on Ao3, and what's
     more, I accept anonymous questions so you don't have to be a tumblr
     user to send me an ask and submit a request.
     if you like this fic come follow me pls i don't know how to tumbl
***** Josuke *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“Josuke, are you alright?” Koichi asked, looking concerned. “You look like you
have a fever, sometimes you’re pale and sometimes you’re flushed.” 
“Yeah, and you’ve been in outer space all day, dude, with this weird-ass look
on your face,” Okuyasu added.
Josuke thunked his head down on his desk with a quiet groan, not wanting to
deal with this right now. He would have stayed home today—between the hangover-
like aftereffects of that goddamn flower Stand’s pollen and how spectacularly
sore he was, he really did feel badly enough to stay home from school in good
conscience—but then he would have had to deal with his mom, which was way worse
than having to deal with his friends. 
He’d tried to consider what he’d tell them if they noticed something was up,
but he couldn’t concentrate at all. He’d barely heard a word of his morning’s
classes, but he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else, either, not when
every small shift of his body reminded him of all the things he’d done—that
Jotaro had done to him—last night.
He ought to want to forget the whole damn thing, but it seemed like all he
could do was remember. And it wasn’t the way you persistently thought about
something awful, either, that was for sure. He knew that feeling and this
wasn’t it. The sickness he could do without, but he reveled in the soreness
that permeated his entire body. He felt well-used and well-fucked for the first
time in his life, and there was something deeply satisfying about that.
Honestly, maybe it was a good thing he felt so wretched, because every time his
body reminded him of what they’d done, it felt like a shot of desire right into
his veins, heady and hot, and it was only his sorry state that prevented that
from turning into a very public embarrassment.
Josuke sighed, realizing he’d have to answer his friends’ questions or they’d
get even more worried. In a defeated tone, he explained, “There was a Stand. It
got me and Jotaro good with some kind of non-fatal poison last night, he’s out
hunting it today. It’s weak; it just caught us by surprise is all. He’s
probably got it already—I hope so, anyway. I know he’s a badass but it’s
dangerous to fight alone, especially when you’re not at the top of your game. I
wish he’d have let me come.”
And just like that, with only a bit of phrasing that wouldn’t ordinarily give
him a second thought, Josuke’s mind was off to the races, remembering.
“Let me come,” Josuke mumbled, half audible, face turned to the side.
Jotaro’s massive hands were on his wrists, taking advantage of his greater
height to stretch out above him and pin them to the ground, his face hovering
over Josuke’s, every bit as flushed and sweaty as his own, lips parted and eyes
glazed, feverish and hungry. His back was hot and slick against Josuke’s calves
where they were locked around him, and goddamn but he wanted his arms free,
wanted to wrap them around his nephew and hold on, wanted to grab his face and
pull him down for a kiss, wanted to rake his nails down Jotaro’s back to see
the way he’d arch and shudder, but most of all, most of all, he wanted his
hands free so he could get himself off.
“Come on, man,” Josuke whined, hearing the petulant tone in his voice as he
spoke and not caring enough to curb it. “I fuckin’ … Need to come…”
“I’m not stopping you,” Jotaro answered, and it was infuriating because yes,
actually, he kind of was. Jotaro knew damn well what he meant. It was also
infuriating that anyone could sound so damn sexy when they were denying him. 
“That’s not…just let my hands go, or touch me, or something!” Josuke implored,
his voice close to a wail. He caved, need outweighing his pride, hoping that
his was what Jotaro wanted to hear. More quietly, he added, “P-please. I need…
I need my hands free. Jotaro, please, I need to…”
“You don’t,” Jotaro replied, talking over the trailing end of Josuke’s
sentence. “Not when you're all worked up like this. I can tell.  Gonna make
you—” Jotaro gasped, eyes flickering shut for a moment before opening again to
lock with Josuke’s—“Gonna make you come without a hand on you. I can do this
all night if I have to.”
“Nooo…” Jotaro moaned, bordering on delirious. There was only so long he could
withstand this pleasure, only so much he could take, so much he could contain,
and yet just this wasn’t quite enough, wasn’t quite the right kind of pleasure
to push him over the edge. 
“Yes,” Jotaro growled, insistent. “Now, I’m going to let go of your hands so I
can fuck you harder, Josuke, but I will be very disappointed if I see them
move.” 
  “Hel-lo, earth to Josuke,” Okuyasu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of
his friend’s face. Josuke started, straightening up from his slump and them
promptly slumping again to hide the fact that Stand-induced-hangover or no, he
was hard as hell after that little flashback. His already-flushed face heated
further in embarrassment and he muttered. “Sorry.”
He stood, shoved his hands in his pockets, and turned his back on his friends
all in one abrupt motion. “You know, I think I am gonna go home after all. I’m
definitely feeling better than last night, but I’m still recovering.” 
“Okay,” Okuyasu said agreeably, “Feel better, dude!” 
“Call one of us later and let us know if you’re feeling better,” Koichi added,
sounding worried. 
Josuke waved, calling over his shoulder. “Sure thing. I’m just gonna sleep this
off, I’ll call you tonight.”
His shoulders slumped in relief. He was glad to be out from under the eyes of
his friends—Koichi was smart and Okuyasu could be weirdly perceptive when it
came to reading moods, so he just couldn’t hang around them right now. But
despite what he’d said, he really didn’t want to go home. He didn’t think he’d
be able to look his mom in the eye, and worse than that, he might zone out
again around her. He wished he could stop thinking about Jotaro’s
hot, lush mouth on his, Jotaro’s big, absurdly fucking ripped body on top of
him, about Jotaro’s gravelly voice in his ear… Oh, he was doing it again—it was
almost like the effects had never really worn off. Hey, wait—was that possible?
Could it really be that that it wasn’t just a hangover from the drug-like
pollen? Was the Stand still affecting him? 
His mind seized on this theory with fervor. Maybe he was just still drugged!
Maybe this desire wasn’t coming from him! He had to find out if the Stand was
still active. He veered off to a pay phone and called Jotaro’s hotel. The
operator connected him to the room’s phone and he felt his belly tense with
nerves as he waited for Jotaro to answer.
“Kujo,” Jotaro answered gruffly, and oh my god, that voice. 
“Hey, it’s me. Did you catch that Stand?”
“Yeah. I explained to the user in no uncertain terms what she had done and made
her promise never to use that ability again, at least not until she's much
older. I dunno if you saw her, she's just a kid. A middle schooler. She
apologized to me and said to tell you she’s really sorry.”
Josuke’s heart sank, disappointed. There was no absolution to be had here after
all, no excuse for the degree to which he was obsessing over this. At least the
matter was resolved and Jotaro was safe, that was definitely good. “Okay, well,
whatever. Apology accepted, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Jotaro said, awkward and sincere. “I should have been able to
resist. I’m the adult here, and no Stand power excuses my behavior.”
Josuke blinked twice, surprised. After a moment’s consideration, he said, “You
have nothing to apologize for. You were just as forced as I was, and at the
time, I was just as enthusiastic about it as you were.”
“But I hurt you, I know I did.” 
“That wasn’t entirely your fault, either,” Josuke pointed out. “Anyway, do we
have to talk about this right now? I’m calling from a payphone.”
“I suppose not. Why aren’t you in school?” Jotaro asked, sounding concerned. 
“I still feel a little weird… Like a hangover. I look like I’ve got a cold or
something. People were asking questions so I left.”
“I’m the same. I should ask how you even know what a hangover feels like, but I
don't actually care. You going home?”
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t really want to see my mom yet. It's too weird--I feel
like she'll justknow. Hopefully if I tell her I'm sick, she’ll leave me alone
and let me sleep. I’m tired as hell.”
Jotaro hesitated for a moment, then said, “You can crash here for a while if
you want—I’ll be gone all afternoon. You have the key I gave you?”
“Um, hang on…” Josuke muttered as he patted down his pockets, diligently
ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach at the thought of going to Jotaro’s
hotel room. “Yeah, I’ve got it. But seriously? I can stay there? I’d really
appreciate that.” 
“For the afternoon, anyway. It’s the least I can do,” Jotaro said. “Really.”
“Stop it, seriously, you didn’t do anything wrong. But since apparently you
feel the need to make it up to me, bring a pizza whenever you come back.
Pepperoni, mushrooms, and onions. Unless you hate one of those, then get
something else. I’m easy to please when it comes to pizza.” 
“Don’t push it, Josuke. And the maid ought to have come by before you get
there, so there’ll be clean sheets on the bed if you want to sleep there. See
you later.” 
Josuke hoped that his nephew hadn’t heard his sharp intake of breath at the
sound of his name in that voice or the fact that he had briefly stopped
breathing upon learning he was not just invited to Jotaro’s room but to
hisbed.“Yeah, later,” he said echoed vaguely, and hung up.  
The walk to the hotel passed uneventfully. Once he got there, he headed
straight for the elevator and up to Jotaro’s room. The walk had tired him out
and that bed sounded awful good. But he also felt a little on edge in this
place, filled with a newfound awareness of people’s eyes on him. He was a high
school student in uniform on his way to a handsome older man’s room—it had only
just occurred to him that it might look a little sordid from the outside. He
had to bite down the urge to tell everyone that he was here to visit a family
member, not a lover. Though of course, after last night, he supposed Jotaro was
both. He sighed. That was just great.
The short elevator ride seemed interminable and he wished he’d taken the
stairs, but eventually he got there, found Jotaro’s room, and knocked. When
nobody answered, he let himself in. He’d been here before, but never by
himself, and he had to resist the urge to poke around in Jotaro’s stuff now
that he was. He could be nosy, but that was a poor way to repay this kind and
trusting offer. 
Besides, the bed looked really damn appealing—he knew he’d feel better after a
few hours sleep. He hesitated for a moment, hands on the buttons of his uniform
jacket. Josuke hated sleeping in his clothes, to the point where he didn’t even
care for full pajamas. He always wore boxers and a t-shirt to bed, if that. But
presumably Jotaro was going to have to sleep in this bed later, so it seemed a
bit rude to undress. 
Then again, if he stayed dressed, he’d get the dirt from his street clothes in
Jotaro’s bed. Between that and the lure of crisp hotel sheets against his skin,
he decided in favor of stripping down to his boxers and undershirt. That done,
he went to pull back the covers on the bed, and noticed that it was a little
rumpled. It didn’t look freshly made, rather like someone very tired had slept
in it, too passed out to even mess up the covers beyond getting in and out.
Either the maid was sloppy or she hadn’t come yet after all.
Well, whatever. At this point, he’d already caught any germs Jotaro had so he
wasn’t worried about sleeping in his bed. So he got in, sighing contentedly as
his head hit the pillow. That was better, that was so much better. He closed
his eyes and that was better still, his headache easing with the stillness and
lack of light. He inhaled slowly through his nose, grateful for the relief, and
that was when he noticed something incredibly distracting. The bed smelled like
Jotaro. Josuke could smell his cologne or aftershave or whatever it was, a
warm, woodsy smell that always drove him a little nuts whenever he got close
enough to Jotaro to smell it. The man must have done the same thing as him last
night and flopped into bed, exhausted, as soon as he’d gotten home, because he
could smell a hint of sweat and sex and the grass of the field they’d ended up
in clinging to the sheets as well. 
Josuke groaned unhappily as his cock stirred to life again, the scent reminding
him of how it felt to have his face buried in the crook of Jotaro’s neck as he
held on for dear life beneath him. Unable to help himself, he rolled from his
back to half on his stomach, half on his side and pressed his face into the
pillow, inhaling as much of the intoxicating scent as he could. In this
position, he was very aware that his ass was sticking out, and he imagined
Jotaro coming in and sliding up behind him, on top of him, breath hot on the
back of his neck, his body solid and comforting along his back, his cock stiff
and pressed eagerly to Josuke’s ass.
Eyes closed, he rolled more fully onto his belly, rocking his hips a little,
pressing himself against the mattress. He wanted Jotaro on top of him, the
weight of him pressing down and holding him in place, holding him steady.
Josuke spread his legs and tipped his hips up, imagining his nephew (his nephew
for God’s sake) between his thighs and…
Josuke’s eyes popped open and he rolled over and sat up abruptly, making his
head spin in a remarkably unpleasant way as he realized that he had apparently
moved past simply remembering what he and Jotaro had done to fantasizing about
what they could do. There was no getting around it, though he’d been trying all
day—he wasn’t just marveling at a strange and, okay, wonderful experience, but
rather he actively wanted to do it again.
Damn it all. Before this happened, he’d been aware that he had a bit of a crush
on Jotaro. But he'd never had any intention of saying anything about it, let
alone acting on it! The man was family, after all, and not particularly distant
family at that, even if they'd only known of each other's existence for a few
months. Even if he hadn't been... Josuke was self-aware enough to know that for
someone like him, a teenager who'd grown up without a dad, crushing on the
first male authority figure who showed up was more than a little embarrassing. 
And the whole thing was so stupid, anyway, so juvenile. He'd taken to Jotaro
immediately, looking up to him and wanting to look good in front of him. It was
honestly a little pathetic. He admired the man hugely, and at first he'd
thought of him as a role model, cool and serious and grown-up in a way Josuke
could only aspire to. But God, Jotaro was so handsome and so strong and so
smart, so gruff and aloof but with a hidden gentleness that only ever showed up
in his (fucking beautiful ocean-blue) eyes and in his actions, never in his
words. Jotaro was like some ideal of manliness, and Josuke wanted so badly to
be like him.
Praise from him was rare, but when he threw a kind word Josuke's way, it made
him feel like a million bucks. He felt nervous around Jotaro, sometimes, not
wanting to fail in front of him, wanting to look cool and skillful and not like
a dumb, goofy kid. Wanting to be useful. Wanting to fight alongside him.
Wanting to be worthy of him. It had taken a while for him to start to wonder if
what he felt for Jotaro wasn't just a truly appalling case of  hero-worship but
something messier and less pure. 
It had always given him a little thrill when Jotaro looked his way or treated
him like a competent adult, but slowly that thrill had become something that
left him breathless, his heart beating fast. The rare occasions when Jotaro put
a companionable hand on Josuke's shoulder had always given him a little buzz of
pleasure, but slowly that pleasure had become something that hit him low in his
belly, not unlike when a pretty girl touched him. It wasn't arousal, not
exactly, but it was certainly close. He wanted Jotaro to touch him more, talk
to him more, consider him a friend and an equal. He craved his approval and
attention more than was entirely decent.
He'd recently started to suspect that maybe he wanted Jotaro, that maybe
Okuyasu's jibe about him about him getting off on the older man's praise was
closer to the truth than anyone knew. But he hadn't yet given the idea much
thought, peering at it sideways and from behind his fingers, afraid to look at
it head on. 
He honestly didn't have much experience with real desire--sure, he got horny,
but it wasn't really directed at anyone in particular. Dirty magazines and
manga turned him on, but he wasn't one of those guys who really got into one
model or character. It was just isolated images that caught his eye--the curve
of a breast or hip, an open mouth, long legs spread open, that kind of thing.
Occasional real-life images stuck with him, too, both of girls and guys. Mariko
from 3-F's lips wrapped around a bottle of Coke, the way Okuyasu's nipples
often stuck out because he was too disorganized to put on an undershirt half
the time. It wasn't like he particularly wanted to have sex with Mariko, though
he probably wouldn't turn her down, and he definitely didn't want to do it with
Okuyasu, even if he did occasionally jerk off thinking about what it would be
like to suck on those stupid nipples. So he hadn't been entirely sure what it
felt like to really want someone.
Until today, that was. He definitely knew now. Goddamn that Stand because he
knew now exactly what it was like to crave someone's touch, to want to fuck
them, to want to get naked with them and do everything it was possible to do.
He was obsessed now, addicted. Jotaro's hands and his voice and his full, soft
lips; his hungry eyes and his perfect abs and his magnificent but somewhat
inconvenient cock... Josuke didn't know how to go back to not being consumed by
desire for him. 
He sighed and lay back down, curling into himself, and fell asleep like that,
in a lonely, confused little headachy ball. 
 
Chapter End Notes
     If you know me from Bleachland, don't worry, I'm still planning on
     finishing EJ this summer. This is me trying to get back into the
     groove of writing.
     Also remember, I love reviews! They make me happy! They inspire me to
     write more!
***** Jotaro *****
Chapter Summary
     Jotaro tries to figure out what to say to his perplexing young uncle.
Chapter Notes
     If you're problematic and you know it, clap your hands. (clap clap)
     If you're problematic and you know it, clap your hands. (Jotaro,
     stone-faced, claps along)
     If you're problematic and you know it, and you really want to show
     it, if you're problematic and you know it clap your hands.
     (historical Japanese customs clap along)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jotaro didn't want to see Josuke. He was ashamed of himself for taking
advantage of the situation with the Stand, not that he'd consciously done that
at the time. But in retrospect, he had to wonder—would he have resisted the
pollen harder if there hadn't been some little part of his mind whispering,
"This is a perfect excuse, you'll never get a better one. Go on, just take him.
He wants it, see? And no one could blame you—you were under the influence of an
enemy Stand.”
Up until this moment, Jotaro had never for a moment even considered actually
acting on his attraction to Josuke… He was just too young. He plainly admired
and had a crush on Jotaro, and he was so eager to please that Jotaro knew it
would be easy, even effortless, to seduce him. It would be so wrong, an abuse
of power of a truly deplorable kind, and that was before you even got into the
part where they were related. It was a remarkably enjoyable fantasy, but that
was all it ever could, should, or would be.
But there Josuke had been, looking up at him with his big, expressive eyes,
pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted. Impossibly tempting. So fucking
cute. So fucking young. And Jotaro felt… odd. Strange. Like this was all a
dream, and that nothing really mattered except that he could finally get what
he’d wanted for months now. Morality and consequences seemed very far away. It
was like being very drunk, sort of, all his inhibitions gone but with none of
the slowness or lack of coordination that came with alcohol. 
And so Jotaro had given in, unable or unwilling to help himself, and yanked
Josuke against him, bending down to kiss him harder than he should have, given
that it was probably the kid's first real kiss. But his mouth had been so good,
so soft and sweet, the first touch of their lips setting Jotaro’s blood on
fire. There was no way he could control himself or even think to try, not when
he wanted Josuke so badly that he couldn’t do anything but force his mouth open
and shove his tongue inside.
After a moment of shocked stillness, Josuke had come to life under his hands
and mouth, rocking against him, kissing back with an uncoordinated, desperate
hunger that turned Jotaro on more than any display of skill ever could have.
Josuke's kisses, or maybe that damned pollen, had made him mad with desire,
reckless in a way he hadn't felt since he was Josuke's age, and he remembered
taking his uncle's jaw in one hand and looking him in the eye from inches away,
their noses touching.
"I am going to ruin you," he had whispered, a promise, before tearing that high
school uniform jacket right off his body.
And oh, had he ever. Josuke was a delight, responsive in the way only the young
and inexperienced were. It was all a little blurry, but he thinks he must've
made Josuke come five or so times. Youth had its privileges, after all. He'd
finally got his chance to do everything to this stupidly alluring, stupidly
endearing teenager that he'd ever wanted and by God he hadn't been about to
waste it. By the last time, Josuke had been a wreck, bruised and
overstimulated, covered in his own come and full of Jotaro's, fucked up and
fucked open and too far gone to even think about keeping quiet. Sure, he felt
bad about it, but Jotaro was planning on jerking off to that memory for the
rest of his life. 
Good grief. Jotaro sighed, shrugging his coat a little closer around him, the
pizza in his hand wobbling as he attempted to course-correct his wandering
thoughts. The goal here was not to perv over how truly spectacular his young
uncle looked while he was getting fucked, the goal was to figure out what the
hell to say to him.
He should apologize again. Josuke had to be very sore today, and Jotaro hated
that he'd hurt him. He'd been too rough and too hasty by far, he knew it now
though he hadn't at the time. He wasn't particularly well-suited to being
anyone's first just in virtue of his size, but he could have been a lot more
careful if he hadn't been so impossibly hot for it, thanks to that Stand. There
was also the fact that Josuke had been in the same state, flying high on
endorphins and God-knew-what, and had never once asked him to slow down or go
easy—just "more, harder, faster, c'mon" and "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" like
some kind of mantra until he was too strung out for anything but wordless
moans. A tiny smirk curled the corners of Jotaro's lips—damn, he was good. He
hadn't lost his touch.
Jotaro inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to pull some of the chill of the
evening air into him to cool down the hot blood roiling in his veins. He was
trying to feel as bad about this as he knew he should, but his attempts at
beating himself up kept threatening to turn into beating himself off and that
wasn't the same thing at all. (What a stupid joke, that was the kind of of joke
that Kakyoin had liked and no, just no, he was not going to think about Kakyoin
right now. Nope. He did not need to add 'maudlin' to the already way the hell
too long list of feelings he was having today.)
But here was the hotel, and he still had no fucking clue what to say to Josuke.
He'd just have to wing it. As the kid would say, great. 
Arriving at the room, Jotaro knocked and then let himself in. He looked around
for Josuke—oh, no. Oh, why had he ever thought it was a good idea to let Josuke
sleep in his bed? Did he enjoy torturing himself? Because there he was, sitting
up and blinking muzzily, his expression sleepy and soft, his precious pompadour
listing sadly to one side. In Jotaro's room. In Jotaro's bed. To borrow a
phrase from a certain old guy—oh my god, but he was cute. He looked even
younger than he actually was, and Jotaro felt like a dirty old man because he
just wanted to... Ugh.
 Josuke blinked at the sudden intensity of Jotaro's stare and he shook himself,
holding up the pizza like a peace offering. 
"You actually brought a pizza?" Josuke asked, sleepy and bewildered.
Jotaro set it down on the table and took a slice in answer. 
Josuke blinked at him some more and said, "Well, I was kinda joking, but I'm
starving so I'll take it."
Jotaro nodded gravely—maybe he could just get through this by not saying
anything. 
Josuke looked at something on the floor, and Jotaro followed his gaze—oh, it
was his pants. Of course. His teenage uncle was in his bed and his pants were
on the floor. If Jotaro was the kind to believe in a just world, he might take
this to be his punishment. Of course, he wasn't. He set down his slice of pizza
and said, "I'm gonna wash my hands before I eat this."
He walked off to the bathroom, giving his guest a moment to dress in peace.
This, he thought as he stared at himself in the mirror, was one of the most
profoundly awkward experiences in his life.
When he got back, Josuke was sitting at the table, dressed in his wrinkled
uniform, his attention on his food. 
"I've hardly eaten all day, this is awesome. Thanks," Josuke enthused, his
words slurred around a mouthful of pizza. 
"No problem. I take it you're feeling better?" 
"Headache's gone, appetite's back. Otherwise, I'm sure I'll be right as rain
tomorrow. I never get sore for more than a day from lifting weights and
stuff—I'm sturdier than I look," Josuke explained brightly, clearly trying to
reassure him. 
Unfortunately, all the reminder did was make him feel guilty, and he didn't
quite manage to suppress his pained expression. Seeing this, Josuke's own
expression became shuttered as the boy seemed to withdraw, turning inward.
Jotaro considered prompting him, but ultimately decided against it, giving
him time to collect his thoughts.
After a moment of silence so long that even the taciturn Jotaro was struggling
with the urge to say something, Josuke blurted out, "Did you hate it that
much?"
"No!" Jotaro protested automatically and emphatically, before his brain caught
up with his mouth and he wondered if maybe it would have been better to let
Josuke think that he had hated it. 
"...Really?" Josuke asked, looking up at him hopefully, his usual bravado
nowhere to be found.
"Yeah," he confirmed. And before he could think better of it, he added, "I
don't know if I should tell you this, but I hate lying, so… That Stand's power
wasn't exactly to make people screw each other senseless--it was to make people
do something they wanted but didn't allow themselves." 
"You..." Josuke breathed, sounding amazed. "Wanted me?" 
This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have said anything. He should have let Josuke
think that Jotaro didn't want him at all. That he was totally straight or
Josuke was just too young. But he didn't want to make Josuke feel like he was
the one who had taken advantage, so what else was he supposed to do?  
"You wanted me..." Josuke murmured again, staring into space, still marveling
over this fact. Then he looked up, eyes bright. “Past tense?”
Jotaro didn’t know what to say. He pushed away from the table, turning to face
the window. There was no good answer. There just… wasn’t. He’d either crush the
kid’s confidence or set himself up as a target for his seduction. But, well,
that came down to either Josuke or him having to suffer, and he’d wasn’t going
to hurt Josuke to make his life easier. He could stand firm in the face of
Josuke’s attempts to seduce him, right? He’d faced down scarier things than a
teenage boy trying to get in his pants. 
“No,” he said, not turning to face him. “No, not just past tense.” 
“Oh, wow,” Josuke said, “Me too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. You wear your heart on your sleeve, Josuke. Maybe work on that,”
he replied, staring unseeingly at the night-time Morioh-Cho.
“Oh. Then…doyouwannadoitagain?” 
“No, Josuke. It’s not right. You’re more than ten years younger than me. A
minor, for God’s sake. We’re family. I’m a… I’m a kind of authority figure to
you. Surely you can see how wrong that is.” 
“Mmm, yeah,” Josuke hummed, sounding like he was gaining confidence now despite
Jotaro’s words. Jotaro’s heart sunk. He hadn’t thought he’d have to weather any
attempts tonight… “But it’s kind of hot, though, right? Take out the minor part
and it’s the stuff porn is made of.” 
“An important lesson for all boys your age: real life and porn are not the same
at all. Also, the minor part is important, so you can’t just take it out,”
Jotaro pointed out.
“Yeah, yeah—I’m legally over the age of consent, though. So you aren’t going to
go to jail if that’s what you’re worried about,” Josuke said. 
Jotaro pinched the bridge of his nose in a rare outward gesture of frustration.
“That’s not it, Josuke. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re just a kid
and you look up to me. I won’t take advantage of that.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m old enough to fight alongside you. I’m almost as old as you
were when you killed DIO,” Josuke said seriously, his teasing tone gone. “Maybe
I was a kid when you first got here, but I’m not and I haven’t been for a while
now. I’ve seen people die, Jotaro, people I care about. I’ve put my life on the
line and I’ve almost lost it a couple of times now. 
“And yeah, I look up to you. I guess I’m pretty transparent about it, too. But
I want you. It’s not just admiration, I really want you. I’m not just trying to
please you or get your attention. I want to have sex with you. I’m not looking
for some grand romance. I’m not looking to… date you. Nobody ever has to
know.” 
“You want to what, then? You want to be fuckbuddies?” Jotaro asked, and it was
his turn for incredulity. 
“No, that’s not quite it. I want you to… show me the ropes. We’re comrades,
right? Like… samurai, kind of. I’ll be your… I forget what it’s called.
Trainee, of sorts. I think I’m a little old for that, but you know, whatever.
Close enough. If it’s good enough for our honorable Japanese ancestors, it’s
good enough for us, right? Though I really wouldn’t mind the whole system being
a little less rigid, if you know what I mean…” 
He was facing away, but could practically hear Josuke wiggling his eyebrows to
accompany that last statement. Jotaro felt like his brain was going to explode.
First, what the hell. How did history enter into this? And second, what the
hell? Was he really losing this argument right now? He had the moral high
ground, dammit! Good grief.
“We’re still related,” he told Josuke, seizing on the one part of his argument
that the boy hadn’t dismantled.
“So what? It’s not like one of us is going to get knocked up and have some
inbred kid,” Josuke pointed out. 
Jotaro sighed and turned started to turn around, “I said n—o…” 
Josuke was naked.
Very, very naked. 
Naked and sauntering up to him. Jesus Christ, this kid was shameless. He’d been
a virgin yesterday! What had he and that Stand wrought upon the world? Josuke,
like many before him, was clearly drunk on his newfound power.
Josuke was naked and sauntering up to him and shameless and gorgeous; utterly,
utterly gorgeous. The messy, dark hair; the big, blue eyes, that pretty fucking
mouth, his well-muscled but not-quite-done-developing form. Lithe and powerful
with just a hint of baby fat here and there. All for him, all on offer with
very few strings attached. Jotaro's mouth was dry. His heart was beating too
fast. His cock was a dull throb, heavy between his legs, filling quickly. 
Jotaro bit down hard on the inside of his lip, trying to think, trying to
distract himself with pain.
How had his uncle taken his clothes off without Jotaro hearing? Crazy Diamond,
maybe? Could he do that? Or maybe he’d just been very quiet and Jotaro hadn’t
heard him over the sound of losing an argument that should be impossible to
lose. Had he been lying to himself when he thought that he could refuse
Josuke's advances? Had he put himself in this position on purpose? He hadn’t
even made it ten minutes… But, wait, he still could refuse. Josuke would back
down if he was firm enough.
Josuke took a step forward, and Jotaro took a step back, trying frantically to
think of something to say to deter this new Josuke, this incubus of a boy.
Josuke took another step forward, and Jotaro took a second step back. The room
wasn’t large, and it was only a few more steps until Josuke had him backed
against the window, staring him down. And how was it that he’d been so worried
about protecting Josuke from his predations that he’d managed to somehow become
the prey? 
Josuke bit his lip and smiled, every inch the coquette, and Jotaro realized
what he was about to do just a moment before he did it. Oh, he was so screwed.
His willpower was not infinite, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t up to this
task. And so, as Jotaro’s stomach dropped to the ground, Josuke dropped to his
knees, looking up at his nephew with triumph in his eyes. He nuzzled at
Jotaro’s groin and ran his hands up his thighs, hips, abs, making an
appreciative sound at that last. He looked utterly pleased with himself and the
world, like there was nowhere he’d rather be than with his face pressed to his
nephew’s crotch. 
He opened his mouth and licked at Jotaro’s rapidly stiffening cock through the
fabric, eliciting a weak groan, and then settled his hands on Jotaro’s belt,
looking up at him again, silently daring him to say ‘stop.'
He didn’t.
He couldn’t. 
It was taking all his control not to open the damn pants himself and shove his
dick into Josuke’s pretty, willing mouth. He hadn’t had a blowjob in ages, and
somehow Josuke had intuited that that would be the way to get him. Though,
really, he supposed it was no great mystery. It was a solid guess on how to get
to any man.
Josuke opened his first belt.
He said nothing.
Josuke opened his second belt.
He said nothing.
Josuke’s hands lingered over the fastening of his pants, and looking up and
asking, “Do you want this, Jotaro? Please say yes.”
He said nothing. 
Josuke slid one hand down to cup the bulge in Jotaro's trousers, rubbing
lightly, teasingly at his now fully-erect cock. "Come on, say yes. You want me,
you said so. But I want to be absolutely clear on it before we go any further.
Affirmative consent is important. We learned about it in school."
School. Good grief. Jotaro closed his eyes, pained and indecisive. Consent was
important, and that was the whole problem. Josuke's ability to consent
was compromised by his youth and his feelings towards Jotaro, and Jotaro wasn't
going to take advantage of that.
But then again, he thought, Josuke was hardly an innocent. This casanova act
was a front, sure, but Josuke, in all the ways that mattered, really wasn't
just some naive kid. It seemed like he'd thought this through.
Jotaro was rationalizing and he knew it, trying to explain away the wrongness
of this. But really, was it so bad? Couldn't he have something for himself? He
wanted this so badly, and he was so tired of always being the good guy, always
on the straight and narrow. Couldn't he indulge just this one time? He'd done
the world a big fucking favor, and more than one—wasn't he owed this?
"You're upset because you were too rough with me, right? We're both sober now,
so show me how you would have done it. Be gentle with me. We can do it slowly,
won't that feel good?"
It would. It would feel so good. Jotaro could just picture it—he wanted kiss
Josuke until he was writhing, then lick him out until he was until he was
begging for it, and then suck his cock while he fingered him open. Then he'd
put the boy on his belly and fuck him slow and slick and hot, kissing and
biting the back of his neck, buried to the hilt in soft, yielding flesh, making
him moan.
He cupped Josuke's face, breathing hard as he stared down at him, thumbing his
pouty bottom lip, pushing the tip of the digit inside. Josuke sucked on it,
licking wetly over the pad of his thumb with his tongue, and something broke
inside Jotaro. He didn't know anymore if this was something he should resist,
but he knew it wasn't something he couldn't resist. He had no arguments left,
no force of will left, and he pulled Josuke up by his shoulders and kissed him
lightly, just once, and said, "Yes."
Chapter End Notes
     u got to wait, I haven't written the next chapter yet... Should have
     it up by this time next week but no promises.
***** You can't always get what you want, but then again, sometimes you can.
*****
Chapter Summary
     Josuke cannot believe that he just won that argument.
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to RemainInLight for notifying me that Josuke isn't actually
     over the age of consent in actual Japan, which is 18. Fortunately,
     this story is not set in actual Japan but in JJBA Japan, where (I am
     stipulating) the age of consent is sixteen. Why the difference? I
     dunno. Stands, probably.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
“Yes.”
Holy shit! It actually worked! His attempt at seduction had felt so awkward, so
clumsy and unsubtle, but Josuke was never going to scoff at the trite advice
“fake it ’til you make it” ever again. He’d felt like a kid and an idiot, but
he’d tried his damnedest not to let it show on his face or in his body language
and it had actually fucking worked.He briefly wished that Okuyasu was here so
he could high-five him, because apparently, Josuke had some serious game and he
wished somebody could congratulate him about it. He couldn’t suppress his grin,
not even a little, and he felt the edges of it stretch his face as he stared at
Jotaro, feeling like he was on top of the world. 
“Shut up,” Jotaro muttered, looking put-upon, like he would have tipped the
brim of his hat down to cover his face if Josuke’s head hadn’t been in the way.
“I didn’t—” he began, but then Jotaro was kissing him again, a real kiss this
time, but different than the ones from last night. It was something slower,
something more careful.  Jotaro kissed his bottom lip, then the top one, then
the bottom one again, and okay, Josuke could get into this. He followed his
lead as best he could, head tipped to the side, as Jotaro drew him closer, one
hand spread between his shoulder blades and the other at the small of his back.
Josuke didn’t know where to put his own hands, but they settled naturally
enough on Jotaro’s hips, so he’d go with that for now. 
It was strange, being naked and pressed against Jotaro’s fully clothed body,
wrapped up in his arms. He felt small and vulnerable, but it wasn’t a bad
feeling—he trusted Jotaro completely, so it was alright. It was rare for Josuke
to be this close to someone bigger than him and he thought he kind of liked it.
It felt warm, in more ways than one. Also, it kind of turned him on.
Jotaro sucked at his bottom lip, and it was almost like he could feel the
sensation in his whole body. Warmth was becoming heat, and Josuke wanted more
of it. He ran a hand up Jotaro’s front, accidentally letting out a pathetic
little moan at the hard, solid feel of his abs under his thin shirt. He slid
the hand up Jotaro’s neck and into the soft, wavy hair on the back of his head
and ran his fingers through it, low enough not to disturb the hat, scratching
at Jotaro's scalp with his nails and earning himself a rumbling noise of
pleasure so quiet that he felt the buzz of it against his lips rather than
heard it. 
He gasped as the tip of Jotaro’s tongue touched his lip, impossibly aroused by
the small sensation. His lips were so sensitized from kissing that the touch
was magnified a hundredfold, and he hadn’t known it could be like this, hadn’t
ever had a kiss like this—before now, he’d only ever known chaste pecks and the
ravenous, domineering crush of Jotaro’s mouth when they were both half out of
their minds with lust. That had been a flood where this was a trickle, and
instead of being entirely overwhelmed and tossed about by the current, this
time he was drinking down every languid drop, appreciating each and every
sensation even as his body cried out for more. 
He opened his mouth and felt Jotaro’s tongue enter it, lightly stroking along
his own, slick and gentle. Another surge of desire rushed through his body, up
from between his legs to spread hot across his face and chest, flushing his
skin. He pressed himself full-length against Jotaro with a sound that could
only be called a whimper, hips jerking involuntarily, shoving his cock (so hard
from so little) uncomfortably against the coarse wool of Jotaro’s pants.
“Impatient,” Jotaro chided, having pulled away just enough to speak before
closing the gap again, and despite his words (or, well, word) he kissed Josuke
a little more forcefully than before. Josuke opened to him wider, doing his
best to keep up, caressing Jotaro’s tongue with his own, and oh, god, now his
tongue was in Jotaro’s mouth, and this should really be disgusting but instead
it was impossibly erotic, so much so that Josuke felt himself starting to
tremble. Last night, there was so much going on all at once that he hadn’t
really had time to experience this kind of want, and he had never guessed that
just the anticipation of getting what you wanted could be so all-consuming and
so achingly sweet.
The hands on him had started to wander, caressing his back and hips and sides,
mapping him out with light touches, learning the way he shied away from touches
along his hipbones with a helpless, ticklish huff and the way he pressed into
touches along his spine even as they made him shiver. He felt like he was being
studied, his responses analyzed for Jotaro’s internal database, and it was
remarkably satisfying to have all of that focus turned on him.
It wasn’t fair, though. He wanted to touch like that, too, but Jotaro was fully
dressed, including his jacket, and he felt weird about asking him to undress.
As for undressing him himself, they’d have to untangle quite a bit for him to
push the jacket off his shoulders and then he’d still have the shirt to contend
with. Well, all that could wait—instead, he tugged Jotaro’s shirt out from his
pants and slid his hands up underneath it, and oh, god, his skin, Josuke was
touching him, Jotaro was letting him touch him. This was fucking great, the
best thing, or maybe the way Jotaro was kissing him now, slow and deep and a
little bit wet was the best thing, but either way this all was just… really
great. And it was really happening, and Jesus, Josuke wanted him so much that
he thought he might combust.
Jotaro’s skin was so warm and soft under his hands, and the muscle under that
was firm but yielding and just so absurdly plentiful. He felt spoiled for
choice, unsure where to touch. Honestly, he thought he might be a little
obsessed with Jotaro’s abs, but there was also the neat curve of his waist, the
tops of his hipbones barely peeking out over the top of his unfortunately high-
waisted pants, and hey, those pecs, those were good too. Josuke wanted to knead
them like a cat, squeeze them every way possible, but he was a little concerned
that Jotaro would think it was weird or feel offended because Josuke was
treating him like he had boobs. Just a bit, he decided, just one good squeeze. 
It was pretty glorious, but he got distracted by the way Jotaro’s nipples
stiffened under his palms, pebbling delightfully. He couldn’t resist thumbing
at one of them and was rewarded with a little gasp from Jotaro, who slid a hand
into Josuke’s hair and kissed him a little harder, bending him backwards,
apparently losing a little of his composure. Josuke felt inordinately proud of
himself.
They continued kissing and exploring each other for several more minutes before
Josuke once again felt his efforts confounded by the truly excessive amount of
clothing Jotaro was wearing. Fortunately, this time Jotaro picked up on it and
pushed him back a little so he could shrug out of his jacket and shirt. 
Josuke stared. He bit his lip, suddenly nervous, torn between awe at how
stupidly hot Jotaro was and bafflement that someone so gorgeous could want him.
But when he finally dragged his eyes up to meet Jotaro’s, his expression didn’t
leave any room for doubt—Jotaro’s eyes looked the same as they had last night,
when he’d been under the influence of that Stand. He was eyeing Josuke like
something out of a nature documentary, something starving that had come upon
its first prey in a long, long time. Those eyes roved over his body, and Josuke
wasn’t sure if he wanted to cover himself to avoid the scrutiny or stand up
straight and preen at the attention. Heat flooded his face as Jotaro’s eyes
caught on his dick, and yeah, it was embarrassing to have him stare like that
but there was also something… Jotaro wanted him, wanted his body, wanted his
dick, and well, let’s just say that at least one part of him wasn’t struggling
whether to hide or stand up straight and proud.
Jotaro licked his lips (fuck) and then seemed to collect himself, blinking, and
swept his gaze back up Josuke’s body to his face. It was a little unnerving how
intense his expression was, especially because Josuke couldn’t really pinpoint
how it was different from his usual one. Jotaro must have picked up on his
nerves, because he stepped closer and said, “Are you sure you want to do this?
We can stop if you want to.”
Josuke shook his head, replying, “I still want to. I really, really want to. I
just… I’m not used to having anyone see me like this.”
By way of answer, Jotaro walked past Josuke, over to the other side of the room
and flipped the light switch. The curtains were open to let the orangey night-
time glow of the city in (though they were up high enough that no one could
look in,) so it was light enough to see, but only barely. Upon his return he
caught Josuke by the hips and tugged him against him, making them both gasp at
the sudden contact, and holy shit, Jotaro was rock hard, just as much as
Josuke—it had been hidden from sight pretty well by the cut  of his trousers,
and they had been close before but not this close. Jotaro ground their hips
together with a breathy groan and leaned down to tell him, voice low and
intimate in his ear, “I’m glad you didn’t say ‘stop.”
Me too, Josuke thought, biting back a whimper, oh God, me too. He was trembling
again, too turned on to think clearly, and then both his hands were on Jotaro’s
face, pulling him down for a kiss and licking into his mouth with a desperate
little sound. This time, there wasn’t much finesse to it, no delicacy, just the
insistent crush of their lips together and the warm, slick slide of their
tongues, the occasional clack of teeth that was supposed to be unpleasant but
only turned Josuke on all the more. 
“Bed,” Jotaro rumbled, pulling away just enough to speak, and hell yeah, Josuke
couldn’t agree more. 
"Go lie down," Jotaro directed, pulling away. His hands went to the fastenings
of his pants, where his belts were already undone, and unbuttoned his fly.
Finally, Josuke thought, he wouldn't be the only one naked. The sound of the
zipper seemed amazingly loud in the silence of the room, and it made something
inside Josuke wind a little tighter, anticipation cranking up another notch. He
wanted to watch, but it was too dark to really see anything, so he did as he
was bid and lay down on the bed in a position that he hoped seemed like a
relaxed sprawl. It wasn't, his nerves were back in force--he was on a bed, in
the dark, with Jotaro. This was some real shit right here, not some weird,
anomalous occurrence brought about by a Stand. He and Jotaro were about to have
sex because they were two consenting adults (or close enough, in his case) who
wanted to fuck each other. It wouldn't really be the first time they'd done it,
but it sure felt like it. 
Josuke's heart was beating so hard and fast that he swore Jotaro must be able
to hear it as he put one knee down on the bed, then the other, then planted his
hands on either side of his head. He was up on all fours, straddling Josuke,
looking down at him, his half-lidded eyes and the spit-wet sheen of his lips
glistening in the murky orange light. It seemed like he might say something,
but he didn't, just leaned down and kissed Josuke on the mouth. 
It was an unexpectedly soft kiss, a gentle glide of lips that eased away some
of Josuke's nerves even as it prompted him to wrap his arms around Jotaro,
pulling him closer as he arched up under him. His chest against Josuke’s felt
amazing, the swell of those ridiculous pecs and the simple joy of touching
skin-to-skin.
Jotaro settled more firmly atop him, touching him all over, covering him with
his body Josuke jerked and cried out softly as Jotaro’s dick brushed against
his, surprised by the way the brief touch electrified his whole body. He felt
the corners of Jotaro’s mouth turn up, apparently pleased by his reaction, as
the older man rolled his hips in a long, slow grind, huffing out a little sound
of pleasure that was almost drowned out by Josuke’s moan.
So hot, Josuke thought, so hot and so hard, all of him but especially his cock,
blood-hot and almost painful where it pressed against his belly, digging in a
little when Jotaro thrust against him. Jotaro was this hard for him, because of
him,and god, that thought alone was almost too much to handle. He pressed his
whole body up harder against Jotaro, locking their lips together, hands digging
into his hair and the muscles of his back, hips arching up against him, moaning
against his mouth. He was being too loud, he knew, but he wanted Jotaro so much
and this felt so good… He couldn’t really think, let alone stay quiet. 
Jotaro broke the kiss to mouth along the underside of Josuke’s jaw, and Josuke
tipped his head back to give him better access, panting as the other man found
his way to the sensitive spot just under his ear, kissing and nipping and
sucking just shy of hard enough to leave a mark. He writhed under Jotaro, too
worked up, and he didn’t want to seem this overwhelmed, it wasn’t cool, it
wasn’t manly, but God, he wasn’t cool and he wasn’t manly, he was just so
turned on that he thought he might die. All he could think was that Jotaro’s
skin against his was hot, making him sweat, making their skin slide and cling
together, making the narrow space between their bodies where Jotaro’s cock was
nestled alongside his own damp and slick, but then again maybe it was slick
with pre-come because Josuke knew he must be leaking all over the place by now.
Maybe Jotaro was, too, the fluids from both their bodies mixing, smearing
messily over them both, and shit, yeah, Josuke fucking hoped so.
Jotaro’s hips stilled and Josuke whined unhappily, disappointed by the lack of
movement and friction, pressing up against him all the harder to try and make
up for it.
“Here, just—wait—hey,” Jotaro muttered disjointedly, the meaning of his words
lost on Josuke. He pushed himself up on one arm, distressingly out of reach,
and said, “Come on, just a second, hold still.”
It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate Josuke’s lust-fogged brain,
but when they did, he stilled, eyes opening—when had he closed them?—to look up
at Jotaro. He had to close them again for a moment, though, overwhelmed by the
shock of desire that ripped through him at the sight of the older man’s face
above his in the dark.
He licked his dry lips, wanting to say something, but all that came out was a
whispered, “Jotaro…”
“I know. I know, baby, me too,” Jotaro soothed absently as he turned a little
aside and brought up one hand, spitting into it and then slipping it between
them. 
Josuke had just a moment to wonder how he felt about being called ‘baby,’ but
then that hand wrapped around his dick and stroked him once, pulling a high,
sharp cry from him and not so loud, Josuke, keep it together.Jotaro shifted
above him, and then, oh god, and then, fuck, his dick, big and hot and harder
than ever and Jotaro’s, fuck, it was caught in Jotaro’s fist right along with
Josuke’s, slipping against it in the mess of sweat and spit and pre-come that
covered them both.
He was going to come. He couldn’t hold out, not for long, not like this, not
with Jotaro’s huge hand squeezing their cocks tight together so that there was
this long drag of delicious slippery friction along the underside every time
either of them moved. They had a bit of a rhythm going, but it was an
uncoordinated stutter-stop thing, unevenly syncopated because Josuke was too
close to manage anything better and Jotaro didn’t seem to be far behind, his
breathing labored, each exhale a half-voiced groan.
They weren’t really kissing anymore but their mouths were still pressed
together, bruised lips clinging, breathing each other’s air, moaning into each
other’s mouths. Josuke shuddered, shoving himself harder, faster against
Jotaro, because he’d just had a thought, and oh, oh—he was going to come, and
when he did, it was going to get all over Jotaro’s dick, wet and sticky-slick
and just—smeared all over it, he could picture it—so filthy, and fuck, he
didn’t know why but that—but that—
Josuke’s toes curled and his back arched and he came with a low, loud moan that
he muffled against Jotaro’s mouth, kissing him hard as his dick jerked and
spilled, messy and copious over Jotaro’s hand and his cock and their bellies,
just like he’d imagined, and that image was still in his mind as his moan
trailed off into a shaky, overstimulated whine because Jotaro was still moving
against him, fast and jerky, and it felt so good that he—so good that he—so
good—
“Too much,” Josuke croaked, and Jotaro let him go. He sagged back against the
bed, panting, the rigid tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his body
in all going out of him. Jesus Christ, that had been good. He always thought
people were exaggerating about sex, and that it couldn’t be that much better
than jacking off because jacking off was pretty damn great, but he was entirely
sure that had been so, so wrong. Better wasn’t even the word, they just weren’t
the same thing at all.
He was pulled out of these vague, post-coital thoughts by the sound of Jotaro
groaning harshly through gritted teeth. He opened his eyes and looked up at
him, giving him a little smile that he meant to be seductive but might have
just been dopey. Jotaro, staring down wide-eyed at him as he jerked himself
off, made a high, rough sound that seemed almost distressed.
“Why,” Jotaro gritted out, “Why do you have to be so fucking hot?”
Josuke made a small noise as his spent dick twitched in response to Jotaro’s
praise, and to his desperate, overwhelmed tone. It was so amazing that he could
make Jotaro of all people feel that way, and honestly it just increased his
current general smugness at having so spectacularly gotten his way to truly
obscene levels. He arched his neck up to kiss Jotaro, who seized on the idea
(and his mouth) with the same kind of ravenous abandon he’d shown last night,
shoving his tongue into Josuke’s mouth as he stiffened, his movements going
jerky, and Josuke felt him paint a warm, wet stripe across his belly, and then
another, and then another.
Jotaro leaned his forehead against Josuke’s and sighed, sounding wrung out. He
stayed there for a long moment, eyes closed, as their breathing began to return
normal. When he opened them again, his eyes were dark and serious, and Josuke
felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. 
Jotaro moved off him and sat cross-legged on the bed, regarding him with an
unreadable expression. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant, like he was going
to say something he didn’t like or didn’t think Josuke would like. “Josuke…”
“Nope,” Josuke said, cutting him off. “If you’re starting in on beating
yourself up for banging a minor again, just… Don’t. I feel awesome, don’t ruin
it for me. ”
“Good grief,” Jotaro muttered. He eyed Josuke, his gaze catching on the come
spattered across his belly, and Josuke was almost sure he saw some kind of
primal satisfaction flicker across his otherwise neutral features. 
Josuke raised his eyebrows and flung out an arm, beckoning Jotaro to lay down
beside him. To Josuke’s surprise, he did, after only a moment’s hesitation,
settling with his head on Josuke’s chest. They lay there in a silence somewhere
between companionable and awkward, until Josuke began to doze off. 
Chapter End Notes
     If you're disappointed by the lack of fucking (in the narrow sense),
     don't worry and stay tuned. There won't be any in the next and final
     chapter, but my tarosuke/josujota thirst is nowhere near quenched, so
     this is going to be a series.
***** Don't You Tell Me To Deny It. *****
Chapter Summary
     Jotaro makes a decision.
Chapter Notes
     This was just supposed to be some resolution but Jotaro... eh, well,
     you'll see.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jotaro stared at the ceiling. He’d really just… He looked over at the softly
snoring, entirely naked Josuke. Yup. He’d really just had sex with his relative
the high school first year. Again. Good grief. He put his hand to his head, and
upon finding no hat there to pull down over his eyes, massaged his temples with
his middle finger and thumb instead.
He should have better self-control than this. If, when Josuke had tried his
brute force approach to seduction, Jotaro had managed to look at him with
disdain instead of desire, the matter would likely have been closed forever.
But no, his legendary stone face had failed him, and he hadn’t been able to
hide his lust for the boy, not even a little, not even for a moment. 
It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. He had passing crushes on
colleagues and acquaintances from time to time, but they were never
reciprocated. Or, if they were, Jotaro had never been able to tell, so they
might as well have been unreciprocated as far as he was concerned. So long as
he thought he didn’t have a chance, such feelings were manageable. As for his
wife, well, the less said, the better. At any rate, their particular brand of
chemistry had always been more intellectual than sexual.
But unlike his predecessors, Josuke had just been so obvious that even Jotaro
couldn’t miss the way the kid looked at him. Even that, Jotaro found
charming—Josuke was so straightforward and so expressive that he couldn’t help
being honest, even though he fancied himself pretty sly. And so, fed on such
strong nourishment as they way Josuke blushed when Jotaro complimented him and
the way he always turned to him with those wide, trusting eyes whenever he said
his name, Jotaro’s desire for him had grown. Fantasy after fantasy spun out in
his head, all the thousand ways that he could seduce his young comrade, all the
ways he might react. 
Even with all that, though, he could have held out, could have defended his
moral high ground ’til the end. If it hadn’t been for that brat and her stupid
stand, he would never have known that Josuke was so much better in the flesh
than he could have possibly imagined. He would have never known what a noisy,
needy boy he was, would have never known the way his fair skin flushed all down
his chest, would have never known that Josuke kisses like he’s begging to be
fucked. If he hadn’t known all that, he’s sure he could have resisted. 
But he did know it, and that knowledge wasn't going to go away. He'd already
given in once, and he saw no reason to think that he'd be able to resist next
time. Josuke had his number, well and truly, and one thing about Josuke that
he'd discovered was that he could be relentless once he'd set his mind on
something. There would be no backing away gracefully, there would be no 'don't
call me, I'll call you.' If he'd given Josuke a little less reason to be
confident, perhaps acting cool and disinterested would be enough, and perhaps
Jotaro could have resisted the urge to make a move on him. 
But as things stood, Josuke had every reason to expect any advances he made to
be well-received. He would probably just climb into Jotaro's lap or go to his
knees before him or just up and kiss him next time they were alone, and Jotaro
would fold like the weak, weak man he was. He would give in and give Josuke
whatever he wanted and enjoy the hell out of it. 
He groaned inwardly. What was he going to do? The only way to be sure he’d
never do this with Josuke again was to leave and stay gone—the only way to
resist an irresistible temptation was to make sure you didn’t come into contact
with it at all. He couldn’t leave now, though, not with Kira Yoshikage on the
loose. That would be tremendously irresponsible, and he wasn’t about to allow
some random civilians to get killed just because he had no self-control. So
that option was off the table. 
He could stop working with Josuke, but that wasn’t much better than just
leaving. He could hardly just exclude Josuke from the team of Stand users
working together to find Kira with no explanation, and besides his healing
ability made him too much of an asset to arbitrarily ban for personal reasons. 
He could, he supposed, have Rohan write his attraction for Josuke out of his
personality, or write in a prohibition against acting on it. That would mean
he’d have to tell the man that he couldn’t otherwise resist his young uncle,
which was not a thing he wanted to do, ever. Plus the idea of having someone
(especially someone who tended to be a bit amoral and was generally really
fucking weird) mess with his head made his skin crawl. He honestly wasn’t sure
he could go through with it. 
The last option… He could just give in. He so, so wanted to, after all. He
could fuck Josuke to his heart’s content, teach him everything he knew about
what two men could do together. He could glut himself on those stupidly erotic,
clinging kisses, and for once get to screw himself mindless with a partner
whose libido most likely outpaced his own, formidable though it was. He could
have Josuke in every way, every position. He could get a dick up his ass for
the first time in about a zillion years. He could teach Josuke to suck cock,
and he wasn’t sure whether he was looking forward to giving him a practical
demonstration of the skill or seeing what he had learned from it more. Even
ignoring the fact that he was way more into Josuke than he should be, the
prospect of good sex and lots of it was so intensely appealing that he was
sorely tempted to stop even trying to resist.
Could he live with himself if he did that, if he just threw all the good
reasons he had for not having any more sex with Josuke right out the window? He
didn’t really care that they were related, that was fine. Josuke was right,
there was no particular reason it should matter, at least not in their case.
Absent both the possibility of reproduction and the massive power imbalance
that often existed between junior and senior family members, there was no
particular reason the fact that any relations between them technically
constituted incest should bother him. The two of them had never met before a
few months ago, and Josuke was technically the senior family member anyway, so
it was really beside the point.
No, the sticking point was Josuke’s age. They didn’t have that distinctly
familial power imbalance going on, but they did have one. Josuke was fucking
sixteen. He was not, in any way, a full grown adult. Then again, being eighteen
or even twenty didn’t automatically make anyone a full grown adult, either, and
if Josuke was that age this problem wouldn’t be nearly as worrisome. 
Jotaro had never thought of himself as having a kink for youth and
inexperience. He didn’t usually even look at the undergrads in the classes he
TAed for that way, though there were exceptions, mainly the ones that looked
older than their eighteen or so years and were exceptionally smart. And Josuke,
he realized, fit that profile. He looked older than he was, though not to the
fairly ridiculous degree Jotaro had when he was that age, and despite being a
total goof most the time, was actually pretty clever. 
What a pain. This was getting him nowhere. He envisioned two separate versions
of himself, arguing. ‘He’s fucking hot!’ ‘Yeah, but he’s sixteen.’ ‘Sure, and
cute as hell!’ ‘Sixteen.’ ‘Who cares? Have you heard the way he moans?’
‘Sixteen!’ “He likes you. He wants you so bad.” “He’s fucking sixteen!”and so
on and so forth. 
He only had two viable options. One, buck up and somehow figure out a way to
resist Josuke, or two, say ‘fuck it,’ throw his concerns out the window, and
have all of the sex with him. Dithering around about it was no good, even if he
claimed to be deliberating rationally, he couldn’t be sure that he was, not
when Josuke had him so riled up.
He looked down at Josuke again and that was all the impetus he needed to tip
over into a decision. He just… he couldn’t pass this chance up. He needed this.
He was tired and stressed and deeply alone, and he needed the relief that human
connection brought. He wasn’t great at that, in general. He had a hard time
relating to people, and didn’t always enjoy talking with them. But sex, that he
liked. It was a way to bypass all that stuff and just go straight for the thing
he craved most. Josuke was much more extroverted, but somehow Jotaro sensed
that he felt the same way, at least a little bit. Or maybe he was just a horny
teenager, Jotaro didn’t know. 
And so Jotaro was going to be selfish. He was going to take what was offered
and stop trying so damn hard to feel bad about it. He would do his best to be
careful with Josuke—emotionally, that was—and treat him with respect. It was an
honor to be his first and his teacher, and Jotaro would treat it as such. Maybe
that was the “morally right” thing to do, and maybe it wasn’t, but honestly,
Jotaro didn’t care. 
Josuke was young but he wasn’t a child, and though the situation was such that
Jotaro could easily hurt him badly enough to leave permanent scars on his
heart, he absolutely wouldn’t. Relationships like this could be terribly
exploitative, and so there was good reason that society frowned upon them, but
Jotaro was determined that this one wouldn’t be like that. He nodded to
himself, pleased to have that resolved. 
Now then. They’d have to be discreet, which meant he couldn’t have Josuke over
here at all hours. They had some cover, but it wasn’t infinite. He’d have to
send Josuke back to Ms. Tomoko soon. He didn’t want to… He wanted Josuke to
stay here so he could have his way with him all night. 
He looked at Josuke, eyeing him up and down. He licked his lips—god, the boy
was appealing. He was so fair… Making him blush and seeing how far down his
body he could get the pink to extend just might become Jotaro’s new favorite
hobby. His lips were pink, too, and his nipples… It was so different than
Jotaro’s own coloring, despite their similar ancestry. 
Jotaro couldn’t tell if Josuke was going to bulk up more as he got older or
not. He was already pretty well filled out, but there was something about the
shape of his chest and shoulders that told Jotaro that a few more years and a
good exercise routine would make a difference. His current shape was plenty
beguiling, though. He had broader hips than most men, and a truly killer ass
that was unfortunately hidden from view at the moment. He wasn’t as lean as
Jotaro, so that probably helped with the ass—Jotaro wasn’t sure if it was just
the last traces of baby fat or the result of his love of video games and potato
chips. He was far from chubby, but his body had a slight lushness that made him
extremely satisfying to touch, to dig his fingers into. 
Josuke stirred again, as if sensing Jotaro’s eyes on him. He’d only been out
for fifteen minutes or so, he probably wasn’t that deeply asleep. Perhaps
Jotaro should wake him so he could get ready to go home. Or perhaps Jotaro
should wake him and keep him for just a little while longer.
Yeah, he was gonna do that. It wouldn’t make any difference whether Josuke got
home at 8 or 8:30. Now that he’d given himself permission, he wasn’t in the
mood to waste any time in teaching Josuke just how good a skilled lover could
make him feel. 
“Hey, Josuke,” he said quietly, giving his bedmate a small shake. 
“Wazzat?” Josuke murmured, opening his eyes and blinking sleepily at him. 
Feeling slightly mischievous, Jotaro looked at him straight on, his expression
giving nothing away, and said, “Want a blowjob?”
Josuke’s eyes went wide and he made a little choking sound in the back of his
throat as he flailed to sit up. “W-what?” 
“You heard me,” Jotaro replied, leaning in a bit. “But I’ll say it again.”
This time, he deliberately dropped his voice to a sultry murmur, an imitation
of the way his voice naturally sounded when things were a bit further along. It
was a trick that had always gotten him good results in the past. “Do you want
me to suck your dick, Josuke?”
Josuke made a little involuntary whimpering noise, a vivid blush coming to his
cheeks. “I uh… Yes?”
Jotaro allowed himself a small smile, pleased with his reaction. It confirmed
what he’d suspected—Josuke was particularly weak to the sound of his voice and
a little bit of dirty talk. Good to know. 
Excitement swirled in Jotaro’s belly as he gently pushed Josuke back to the
bed. He’d done this the first time they’d been together, but that incident had
taken on the fuzzy, vague quality of a dream. Before that, it had been years. 
He slowly slid down the bed over Josuke, planting a few kisses here and
there—his collarbone, the center of his chest, just to the right of his navel,
his hipbone, and a particularly lingering one on that part below the belly but
above the dick, a particular favorite of his. 
Josuke was already mostly hard, and Jotaro licked his faintly smiling lips. He
hadn’t thought he had a fetish for the young ones, but goddamndid how much of
an eager brat Josuke was turn him on. Wanting to tease him just a little, he
kissed just a few centimeters away from the base of Josuke’s dick, sucking hard
enough to make him shiver and arch a little.
Satisfied—he could take his time teasing and tormenting Josuke some other
day—Jotaro turned to the main event. All his breath shuddered out of him as he
contemplated Josuke’s frankly gorgeous cock, and, unable to resist for one
moment longer, gave it a long lick from base to tip, letting out a small, low
noise at the sheer eroticism of running his tongue up another man’s dick.
Josuke gasped, and then moaned aloud when Jotaro slid his lips down over the
head of his cock. Jotaro flicked his gaze up at the boy’s face and found him
staring down at Jotaro with this awed expression like he was seeing the face of
God. No man should have this much power, Jotaro thought to himself, a little
amused but mostly just turned the fuck on. Knowing that he was affecting Josuke
this much was heady as hell, and he kept his eyes on Josuke’s face as he let
his mouth slip lower, lower, lower, and though he was out of practice, he
managed to swallow Josuke all the way to the root. 
Josuke made a noise like he was in pain, and Jotaro worried for a second that
he’d grazed him with his teeth, but no, he still had that same amazed
expression on, his mouth agape, his eyes scrunched up, open just enough to
watch. Jotaro hoped he wasn’t going to come too soon—it would be cute, but he
wanted to enjoy this. 
He pulled off slowly, sucking as he went, drawing a high, keening cry and a
gush of pre-come from his lover. The taste of it jolted from Jotaro’s tongue to
straight between his legs, making his cock twitch and his hips jerk slightly as
he tried not to rut against the bed. He was just as hot for it as Josuke, and
he didn’t even have the excuse of youth. He had no excuse, really—Josuke just
tasted so fucking good, salt and blood-hot skin and a hint of bitterness from
their half-assed clean-up job earlier that made him want to chase down every
single last molecule of it even if it was actually, objectively kind of
disgusting.
Before he’d started doing this, he had plans to wow Josuke with his pretty-
awesome-if-he-did-say-so-himself technique, but he was having a hard time
focusing through the haze of arousal clouding his mind. He’d forgotten this,
forgotten how much he fucking loved the feeling of a fat cock filling his
mouth. And Josuke’s was, certainly; thick and hard and long and perfect. This
was one part of him that wasn’t balanced on the cusp—here, Josuke was all grown
up. It was those good Joestar genes, Jotaro supposed, and this time, worked up
as he was, the thought didn’t so much cause a rush of guilt as a rush of
arousal. 
Josuke bucked a little under him, taking him by surprise and gagging him,
making his mouth flood with saliva. He’d forgotten that feeling too, the much-
too-much of it, and the surge of hungry lust that followed took him by
surprise, overwhelming his already tenuous control. With a muffled groan, he
fucked his mouth down on Josuke’s cock, over and over, greedy and messy and not
particularly coordinated, shifting his weight onto his knees so he could palm
his own cock, cupping it against his belly. 
“Holy fuck,” Josuke groaned, reaching down to touch Jotaro’s face. “You’re so
into it.”
Jotaro looked up at him, enjoying the soft caress of Josuke’s fingers on his
cheek. He wasn’t sure if the statement required an answer, and anyway, he
didn’t feel like stopping, so he only hummed his agreement, smiling a little
around his mouthful.
“You’re a-ah-almost cute like this, Jotaro. You look r-really hot.”
It felt a little embarrassing, a little insulting, to be called cute, and it
made his face heat, but it didn’t do anything to cool his ardor. If anything,
it had the opposite effect. 
He swallowed Josuke down again, wanting him inside. He wanted Josuke to fuck
him, but he didn’t have the patience for it right now, so he’d have to settle
for this, not that it was really settling because Josuke’s cock in his mouth
felt so hot, so satisfying. To be allowed to give pleasure was something he’d
missed, maybe even more than receiving it. 
Josuke shifted restlessly under him, his hands tentatively sliding into
Jotaro’s hair, petting him gently. His fingers felt so good skritching along
Jotaro’s scalp. His whole body was crying out for touch so anything was
welcome, and Josuke’s soft, approving caresses were nothing short of blissful.
Jotaro flicked a glance up at him and saw him watching with half-lidded eyes,
biting his lip even though it didn’t seem to keep him quiet at all. His every
exhale was a low groan, and Jotaro realized that he was trembling, twitching
and shivering under Jotaro’s ministrations. 
He was fighting to keep still, Jotaro realized. That was no good—Jotaro wanted
him to move if he felt like it. Yeah, that was exactly what he wanted; right
now, he only wanted to give Josuke pleasure, and that included letting him take
it as he would. He pulled off and told him, “You can fuck my mouth, if you
want.”
Josuke gasped, eyes going wide, and yeah, Jotaro’s voice did sound extra low
and rough this way. Or maybe it was the content and not the sound, because
Josuke’s grip on his hair tightened, and his hips slowly lifted, pushing
himself into Jotaro’s mouth with a shaky moan. 
“Jotaro…” he sighed as he did it again, apparently emboldened by the fact that
Jotaro hadn’t choked on him the last time. “You’re amazing.”
Josuke settled into a quick, shallow rhythm, working the head of his cock past
Jotaro’s lips again and again. His moans had gone high and breathy, and kept
murmuring thing like “Oh, you’re so good,” and “Jotaro,” and “Letting me…” and
“So hot.”
All the noise and the praise and the precome-slippery feel of Josuke’s cock in
his mouth and the still-gentle grip of his hands in Jotaro’s hair was making
him lose track of things, making him be able to do little other than moan and
take what Josuke gave him. He tightened his hand around his own cock, jerking
it quick and hard, wanting to come, wanting Josuke to come, wanting to taste
it, wanting to feel it flood his mouth, too much to swallow. 
And then Josuke gasped out his name, panted, “Shit, shit, Jotaro, I’m gonna,
Jotaro, I—” and came in Jotaro’s mouth with a long, loud moan. Arousal roiled
in Jotaro’s stomach as it filled his mouth, bitter and brackish and just what
he’d wanted, too much too quickly, spilling from the corners of his lips. When
Josuke’s moan had subsided and he sagged back to the bed, Jotaro pulled off and
swallowed, near mindless with lust as he rose to his knees and shuffled
forward, straddling Josuke, kneeling over him as he stripped his cock almost
frantically. 
“Mmm, yeah,” Josuke commented, looking utterly blissed out and not a little
smug. It suited him. Jotaro wanted to see that look on his face every day.
“You’re so hot like this. Who knew you had this side to you, Jotaro? Who knew
you’d get so hard just from having my dick in your mouth?” 
Jotaro panted, unable to respond, close to coming. He had the presence of mind
to be vaguely embarrassed about all this, but mostly he didn’t care. Josuke
didn’t seem to mind that he could be a complete slut when the mood took him. 
“I bet you’d even let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” Josuke asked, his voice a low
croon like he’d been doing this for years. 
“Yeah,” Jotaro gasped, part answer and part senseless vocalization, “yeah.”
Jotaro’s eyes fluttered shut and his breath got caught in his throat, so close,
so—
“Jotaro, come for me. I want to see it,” Josuke purred, licking his lips.
And Jotaro did, curling up like he’d taken a hit to the stomach and making a
harsh noise through clenched teeth, his cock pulsing in his fist as it spilled
over Josuke’s belly, white against his pale, flushed skin. 
Jotaro sagged back, chest heaving, eyes shut tight. When he opened them again a
moment later, it was only to see Josuke drag a finger through the mess on his
belly and pop it into his mouth. 
Jotaro made a strangled noise as he watched the boy sucking Jotaro’s come off
his own finger. Those lips of his…
“Stop that, or we’ll be here all night,” Jotaro scolded, but he was sure the
effect was ruined by the husky tone of his voice and the way he was still
staring at Josuke’s lips wrapped around his finger. 
He did stop, but only to return his hand to his dirtied skin, choosing this
time to smear the sticky wetness around, dragging a finger through it, rubbing
Jotaro’s come into his skin. Jotaro made a small, incredulous noise—what a
dirty boy Jotaro was. He clearly liked being made a mess of, and it only made
Jotaro want to mess him up more.  He was still altogether too coherent—Jotaro
wanted him like he’d had him the other night, utterly wrecked. For such a fair-
skinned young man, Josuke had surprisingly few bruises from their previous
encounter, a clear oversight on Jotaro’s part. Would Josuke like being marked
in that was as much as he seemed to like this one? Would he press his fingers
into Jotaro’s bites and bruises when he was alone in his room? 
Jotaro moved off him. He’d given in to temptation, and he was going to keep
doing it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use a bit of good sense. He couldn’t
keep Josuke here all night, nor even all evening. He didn’t want to worry Ms.
Tomoko, and he certainly didn’t want her suspecting anything (though he knew
this wouldn’t be the first thing she’d suspect if Josuke kept staying out
late.)
Josuke stretched, looking very pleased with himself, Jotaro, and the world as a
whole. He looked over at Jotaro and grinned at him. Jotaro couldn’t help
smiling back just a little. He asked, “Can I take a shower?”
“Don’t you usually take one before bed? It would be weird if you didn’t. I
think you should just get dressed and go home. You can shower later.”
“But, Jotaro! I’m sure I smell. I’ll just have to take two showers. And
besides, I need to get my hair a little damp to get it back in order. If I went
home with it like this, my mom would know something was up right away.”
Jotaro was slightly disappointed by this unassailable logic. He really liked
the idea of Josuke walking around Morioh covered in the scent of their sex and
Jotaro’s cologne. Josuke was right, though. It would be stupid, even if it
would be hot. Maybe some other time when Ms. Tomoko was out for the night.
“Get on with it, then. Take your clothes in the bathroom with you, maybe the
steam will unwrinkle them,” Jotaro told him. 
Josuke did as he was bid, only stopping to look back over his shoulder with a
smile and a raised eyebrow. “You could…” 
“You’re insatiable. No,” Jotaro refused.
“Can I come by tomorrow, then?” Josuke asked, his expression a beseeching pout
that made him look young enough to give even the newly resolved Jotaro a flash
of guilt. Well, maybe notjust guilt.
“Depends. When?” Jotaro asked. He actually had no time-sensitive plans tomorrow
whatsoever, but he didn’t want to make things too easy. 
“Mmm…Six? I’m going to study with Okuyasu and Koichi right after school.”
“Should you miss dinner two nights in a row?” Jotaro asked, playing the
responsible adult. Sort of.
“It’s fine. Mom has to work until eleven!” Josuke told him with a grin.
Oh, excellent. He’d try to get Josuke home by 10, so that meant that they’d
have four hours. That was great news. “Very good. I’ll look forward to it. Now,
go get in the shower and get gone.” 
Josuke gave him a cheeky little salute-like wave, and sauntered off to the
shower—a state of affairs Jotaro very much enjoyed watching. Josuke really did
have a truly excellent ass. Jotaro was going to have a lot of fun with it
tomorrow. 
When Josuke disappeared into the bathroom, he wandered back to the bed and sat
down, fishing around in the night stand drawer. Jotaro wasn’t a habitual smoker
anymore, but he still indulged occasionally, mostly when he was stressed. He
wasn’t stressed now, but it seemed like a good time for a cigarette. When he
found the pack and his lighter, he threw on some pants and went over to the
window, opening it. 
He lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. He could have ruminated more on the
error of his ways, but he didn’t particularly want to. He felt too good right
now to beat himself up about it. Instead, he just leaned against the window
frame, took another draw off his cigarette, and tried to decide what he wanted
to do to Josuke first tomorrow. He was spoiled for choice. Because there was no
one to see, Jotaro let the smile that was threatening to break out spread
across his face.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it : 3
     As always, comments are much appreciated!
     By the way, this fic's title (and this last chapter title) comes from
     the Fiona Apple song, Criminal. Because this in this fandom we have a
     great excuse to be lazy with titles. It's great, I love it.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
