“You look pretty even without all that stuff,” Rohan says once, and Jotaro feels a little uncomfortable just thinking about it, thinking about Rohan thinking about him in that way. He appreciates the sentiment, though. A couple times, he skips his ritual and lies in bed late into the morning—late for him, anyway—and it’s nice, in some ways. He can watch Noriaki’s eyes flutter open, that look he has having just escaped from dreams, plant a soft kiss on the man’s mussed red hair noodle. Rohan, well—they’re not really one for the transition between slumber and its opposite. Jotaro pets them on the head, smiling, without waking them. If they feel it, they show no indication of this, aside from the occasional barest hint of a upwards curve playing on their lips like light from a window.

Mornings are peaceful. In some ways, they’re Jotaro’s favorite time of day.

twoRohan doesn’t sleep. Or, they do, but in the way that other people don’t dance—they fight it, drawing late into the night and to the point where their drawings start to deteriorate in quality, and then some past it. It’s probably unhealthy or something, but there’s something about sketching at two a.m. that other times of the day could never really capture, they think. The windows are dark, and if Noriaki or Jotaro is awake, they’re quietly paging through a book by the small light of a lamp, or out somewhere else altogether, dancing, or sitting in the park, or kissing, or all three, maybe. Rohan feels a little like the night is the only time they’re zen enough to feel entirely like themselves.

They make themselves up to flawlessness for day outings, but it’s different at night—they dress up merely for their own pleasure, if not Noriaki or Jotaro’s. They wear sweatpants and baggy crop tops cut from old shirts of their partners (and usually without permission, much to the latter’s respective amusement and chagrin). They’re still pretty—just in a different, more relaxed way, is all.

Sometimes, they go out, too.

They usually go by themselves, but Noriaki will tag along sometimes, or even Jotaro, when Rohan has their nighttime adventures. They take reference photos of places in town, lick shit they probably shouldn’t even be touching, lie down in random peoples’ yard to get a feel for the texture of their grass. The fact that Morioh is relatively empty late at night is only a plus, considering their general dislike for the rest of the human (and stand) population. It’s quiet, finally fucking quiet, and they take endless pleasure from this simple absence.

They should probably sleep more; they think this constantly. But then again, they’re really too damned stubborn to change their way of doing anything.

threeNoriaki is probably the one who sleeps the most, although he doesn’t wake up particularly late or go to bed particularly early. He takes cat naps, instead, and very much becomes the phrase, falling asleep on nearly any surface and at nearly any time of day. Once, he’s feeling notably tired and falls asleep on a restaurant date with Rohan while the latter person is running him through the latest plot arc in their manga; his only regret, to be entirely honest, is not waking up immediately to see the look on Rohan’s face when they realize their conversation has sent their partner into something akin to narcolepsy. He wakes himself up, unfortunately, by knocking over his water glass and sending ice cold liquid running across the tablecloth and into his lap.

“Never let it be said,” he says to Rohan later, “that I’m not an interesting date.”

To which his partner rolls their eyes in both disdain and sincere affection. “I’m pretty sure falling asleep to me talking just make you shit, man,” they point out.

“You have a very relaxing voice,” says Noriaki, and Jotaro bursts out laughing at this obvious lie, and Rohan is offended, but laughing, too, and the three of them are sitting together then on the living room couch, dying and happy. It’s nice.