#josucho

Josuke didn’t even know Okuyasu had an older brother. He knew Okuyasu’s father was an ill man, which was why he never saw him. His mother had passed away. But Okuyasu said nothing about a sibling, or how Keicho took care of their father full time when he wasn’t working full time. Or, Josuke thought, maybe Okuyasu had mentioned his hunk of an older brother, sans the ‘hunk.’ Josuke did have a tendency to mindlessly daydream sometimes while Okuyasu was talking.

“Uh—uhm, hi,” he said, with every bit of awkward teenage fiber in his body. “I’m Josuke.”

“Oh. You’re Okuyasu’s friend?” Keicho asked. Josuke bowed his head a little; Keicho reciprocated the action.

“Yes! It’s very nice to meet you, K-Keicho.”

“Sure.”

Keicho resumed preparing dinner, not purposely ignoring the two of them though he didn’t care to make conversation. Josuke frowned a little. He really wanted to talk to the guy.

Better luck next time, he thought.

And he did have better luck next time. He came over after school to check on Okuyasu, who’d been sick for two days. He knocked on the door and waited a good ten minutes before it unlatched, and lo and behold stood Keicho in fitted blue pants and a white sleeveless top.

“Oh, Josuke, right?”

Josuke’s heart fluttered. He remembered his name.

“Y-yeah!” he said, a little too enthusiastically. He sat back on his heels and glanced to the side. “Ah, I know Oku’s been sick the past couple of days and I just wanted to check on him. Is he okay?”

“See for yourself,” Keicho said. He stood aside to let Josuke in; he hurried past Keicho with a hasty bow as thanks. Josuke slipped out of his shoes and put them neatly in a corner of the entryway. Keicho locked the door behind them and took two wide steps in front of Josuke.

“I’ll show you to his room,” he said. Josuke followed.

It was a bad idea to follow Keicho from behind. His back was broad and his triceps nicely shaped. He tried in vain to calculate the obtuse angle in which Keicho’s neck muscles opened from their junction at the shoulder. He thought about how warm that big neck must be, how nice it’d feel to cuddle such a strong back at night. Josuke would never feel scared again if this man were in his arms.

He blushed, cursing as he nearly ran into Keicho. He’d stopped to gesture with his hand, a large hand with masculine fingers – Josuke shook his head and looked to see a slightly opened door on the left. Josuke thanked him. Keicho exhaled, amused, or what Josuke perceived to be so, and left with heavy footsteps down the hall.

Josuke almost forgot why he’d come there. But when he entered Okuyasu’s room, he saw that his friend was asleep. Josuke chuckled softly and tip-toed to Okuyasu’s bed anyway. He placed the back of his hand on Okuyasu’s forehead, gently so he wouldn’t wake him. He still felt warm, but Josuke observed that his forehead wasn’t hot enough to be a fever.

“Feel better, Oku,” he said, tip-toeing back out. He left the door cracked just as it was before.

The next time he visited the Nijimura household, Josuke was surprised that Keicho stayed in the living room for most of the evening.

“Huh? Why d’ya care?” Okuyasu asked him laughing harshly. “It’s big bro’s day off, he always watches TV and stuff when he’s not at work.”

“Oh, just curious,” Josuke mumbled. “Does he play games too?”

“Yeah. Hey! Why don’t we have a tournament? Big bro!”

Keicho looked a little annoyed as he turned his head toward them.

“Wanna play a game with us?”

“Sure,” he sighed. Josuke’s heart skipped a beat.

Keicho set up the console, changed the setting to Video-1, and lounged comfortably on the couch. Okuyasu sat cross-legged and way too close to the TV. Josuke would have normally sat next to Okuyasu, but the temptation was too great; he took a spot on the couch within a few inches of Keicho.

“Eh? Ya not gonna sit down here, Josuke?”

“Nah,” he said, voice trembling. “Wouldn’t want to disturb your concentration.” Nice save.

“Whatever, I’ll kick your ass either way!”

“You’re on!”

Keicho laughed next to him. It was a deep and quiet sound, barely audible. Still, his heart thumped again and he grinned like an idiot.

“You playin’ winner?” Okuyasu asked his brother.

“Sure.”

He rolled his eyes at his boring older brother as the character screen began its countdown.

“Ah man! C’mon Keicho! You can’t lose to him bro!”

Josuke was on a winning streak. Keicho was supposed to play after the first time Okuyasu lost, but he was stubborn for a rematch. Keicho didn’t care all that much and let him play. But then Josuke beat him again… and again… and again. Okuyasu even made him choose the most difficult character to control, a big slow guy. He still won.

Which led to Keicho finally placing his hand on Okuyasu’s tense shoulder. It startled him, but he handed over the controller, still warm with wasted effort.

They were on the last round. Josuke won the first two, but surprisingly Keicho caught up immediately after that and tied it up. It was almost too close to call who’d have the last hit—they were both low on health—but Josuke was determined to win. Determined to impress Keicho if only that meant a possible burst of anger or irritation.

Not that the quiet, hunky blonde seemed the type to be a sore loser. Josuke couldn’t be sure. He didn’t think Okuyasu would be such a hothead, either, and yet he was!

One last kick—Josuke’s jaw dropped. He was leaning all the way over his knees, sure that he’d been timing Keicho’s attempted attacks perfectly. Yet that was it, the killing move, the finisher. He whined childishly and had to keep himself from tossing the controller; It’s not my stuff, he reminded himself. He placed it gently on the wooden floor and frowned, burying his face in his hands.

“Aw yeah! I knew big bro’d beat ya, Josuke!”

Josuke grumbled.

“Give the kid a break,” Keicho said. “You’re not too bad, Josuke, but I’m a seasoned player. You need a bit more practice.”

Josuke felt an arm around his shoulders. He looked up just as Keicho pulled him against his chest and Josuke thought the world was stopping. He couldn’t breathe and didn’t understand what Keicho was saying, but nodded anyway, absorbing the heat and musky scent of Keicho’s skin. He was very thankful for that tank top, for the hard muscles he could feel on him. Josuke was afraid he’d given himself away.

“Ah—I guess so. W-well, uh, it was fun but I should get home—mom’s expecting me for dinner, y’know,” he mumbled. Unwillingly he slipped out of Keicho’s hold and grabbed his schoolbag. Okuyasu stood and followed him to the door, promising another rematch next time he was over. Josuke agreed and left.

He walked home as fast as he could. He couldn’t handle the fire in his veins or the shaking of his heart. Part of him wondered if it was a Stand attack, but no, Josuke thought, no one’s been on our tails and even if it was you’re too love-struck to know it!

When Josuke reached his house he closed the door and locked it behind his back. He sighed, his eyes cast down toward the floor. His mother turned on the hall light when she came down the stairs, stopping a good distance away before she spoke.

“Josuke? What’s wrong?”

“Mom…” It hurt so much that tears stung in his eyes. He took two swift steps forward and wrapped his arms around his mother, hiding his face in her neck. “Mom, why do I feel like this?”

“Feel like what, sweetie?”

“He’s so hot…” His mother visibly tensed. “S-shit, I mean, uh… S-shoot!”

“Let’s talk over tea, hm?”

She removed his arms from around her. Josuke nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

“So you got a crush, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he said. She set down a cup of tea in front of him. “Thanks, mom. I just—he’s so gorgeous, I can’t not look at him when I’m over at Oku’s, y’know? He’s tall and kinda quiet but he’s super muscular, too… and he cooks really good. He’s got this crazy hair but it’s blonde and looks soft if it’s left down. His style is off the wall—I just…”

“Whoa, there, honey,” she said, laughing a little. “You’re really head over heels for this guy?”

“Um… maybe…” Josuke looked away, well aware of his mother’s intense gaze. “We, uh, we all took turns playing a fighting game today on Oku’s console. I was doing pretty good, but his bro tied it and at the end beat me. But he… he…”

“Did he touch you?” she asked sharply, standing from her seat. Josuke started as her flat palms slammed on the table.

“What! No! Well, yeah, I mean, but—“

“What do you mean, no, then yeah?”

“Let me finish, mom!” She sighed, but sat back down and conceded. “Sheesh. I mean, he said I was good at games and uh… said I should practice more b-but he also put his arm around me and pulled me close…”

“Already putting his hands on my boy, is he?”

“Mom! It’s not like that!”

Josuke groaned, resting his forehead on the table. It felt cool against his overheated skin. “It made me feel so happy but scared ‘cause I don’t think he’d like me back, you know?”

“Josuke,” she said, but this time her voice was devoid of scorn. “He’d be silly not to like you. But—I know, I know, that’s beside the point. I understand what you feel better than you think.” Josuke’s heart clenched. “I felt that way, too.”

He suddenly felt guilty.

“I remember when I met your dad—“ Josuke sucked in his breath. “—I thought, wow, that guy’s handsome! And he was charming and sweet. Charismatic in comparison to your boy, though, I think.” She laughed again. Josuke braved it and lifted his face. His mother’s eyes held deep admiration, staring off into a void he couldn’t see. She was enamored. “Anyway, enough about the bygone days, am I right? The point is that what you’re feeling is normal. It’s real. All the good feelings, and the bad ones. The anxiety.”

Josuke reached out, placing a hand on his mother’s arm.

“I’m okay, Josuke,” she said. “And you are too.”

He snorted a little. It sounded so corny. But thus far, his mother had been right about everything in life; so he once again put his faith in her word and squeezed her forearm.

“Big bro thinks you like him,” Okuyasu said, completely casually one day when Josuke was walking him home. “I dunno—he says you stare a lot and it’s obvious, an’ you ran out after he beat you at the game but I dunno what that was about. Anyway, do you?”

Josuke choked on his own spit. He had to stop mid-step and beat on his chest ‘til it came back up. He spit into the street, cringing afterward; he hated people who did that.

“U—umm…” He wasn’t sure how to answer. He wasn’t sure whether Okuyasu could tell immediately by his hesitance to answer that the answer was yes, yes, yes! but Josuke hoped all the same that it wasn’t.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer or nothin’, I was just curious,” Okuyasu added. “See that new fighting game that’s coming out?”

Josuke was so very thankful that Okuyasu changed the subject.

The next time he saw Keicho was on a run to the grocery store. His mom needed eggs for dinner, but she couldn’t pick them up after work because the store would be closed by then.

There he was, as if waiting for Josuke; no, Josuke knew that was what his mind constructed. He wanted Keicho to accidentally run into him on purpose, wanted him to know that he liked him. He wanted to be welcomed into that warm embrace of mutual attraction where he wouldn’t run like a coward because he couldn’t handle his own feelings.

“H-hey!”

“Hm? Josuke? What are you doing here?”

Josuke regretted making contact at all.

“Had to pick up some stuff for dinner,” he said. “Mom’s cooking tonight. What—what about you?”

“Dad and Okuyasu wanted sweets. Mostly Okuyasu, but dad’s rarely ever in the mood for them.”

“Ah, I see.”

They stood stiffly, both sides awkward with paper bags in their hands. Keicho spoke first.

“Walk with me?” he offered.

“S-sure!”

They walked on the gray sidewalk in a mostly uncomfortable silence. Josuke was ecstatic that Keicho wanted to walk together, but knew better than to get his hopes up. Still, the warmth of Keicho’s arm seeped through his coat; Josuke was close enough to feel it radiating from his core. He racked his brain for something to talk about, but Keicho beat him to the punch again.

“It’s nice out today, isn’t it?” he said. “Not too many people. Cool breeze.”

“Yeah, it is,” Josuke agreed. He looked down at his feet as they turned a corner, unable to keep the conversation going.

“Want to go to the park?”

“Y-yeah…”

They found an empty park bench easily; not a lot of people in Morioh visited the park after dark. Though the sun was just setting, the children had all gone home and their parents were busy with dinner or just returning from work.

Josuke sat next to Keicho, their thighs almost touching, but his voice wasn’t working. He’d open his mouth once, turn to see Keicho staring at him, and immediately close it tight and look away. His fists balled around the fabric of his loose pants, bouncing up and down with his nervous knee. He couldn’t bear the anxiety weighing down his heart.

“Josuke,” Keicho said.

He felt an arm around him again and made a sound. Josuke’s head snapped up as he stared at Keicho; there was a satisfied smirk on the elder Nijimura’s lips as he pulled the younger man closer.

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” he added. “It’s not a big deal.”

“How did you know?” Josuke asked through gritted teeth.

Keicho simply shrugged, pulling Josuke tighter against his side. Josuke slowly wound his arm around Keicho’s abdomen. He couldn’t feel the muscles he knew were underneath that thick coat, but Keicho’s body heat and the soothing up-and-down of his breathing kept Josuke calm. He surrendered to the body next to him, glancing up to see the first signs of glittering stars in the sky.

They remained huddled together for at least a half an hour. Keicho’s wide hands rubbed Josuke’s arms, chasing away his fears. Josuke even closed his eyes and rested his ear against Keicho’s chest where he could hear his heart beat perfectly normal.

When the time came that they had to part, Keicho stood and extended his hand. Josuke took it timidly and they walked slowly together, fingers threaded tightly, all the way up to Josuke’s front door.

“Thanks for spending time with me,” Keicho said. He smiled, and Josuke swore he’d died and gone to heaven.

“N-no problem! Um… Keicho, can—can we do this again?”

His hands clasped nervously behind his back. Josuke swayed sideways, avoiding Keicho’s gaze. The bright eyes of his friend’s brother bore into his pompadoured skull.

“Of course,” Keicho said. “Goodnight, Josuke.”

He leaned down the little bit that he needed to and kissed the young man’s forehead. Josuke would also swear that Keicho had a smirk as he walked away, but had no way to prove it true.

His mother immediately noticed the giddiness that glowed on his face when she got home from work that night. She suspected it was his crush’s doing, but said nothing and let Josuke be.

She could always tease him later.

Josuke didn’t have time after he got out of the shower to do-up his hair. It frustrated him leaving the house with his hair wavy and too long in the front, still damp with shampoo and conditioner. But the new fighting game had just come out and he was anxious to play with Okuyasu—and by extension, Keicho. Mostly Josuke wanted to see Keicho again.

“…Josuke?!”

“Y-yeah, it’s me,” Josuke answered, pushing his bangs out of his eyes again. “Sorry, I was just too anxious to play this game. Is Oku around?”

“Oku…? –Okuyasu? No, I think he has detention today…”

“Oh shit! That’s right!” Josuke’s shoulders slumped forward. “Damn, I was really lookin’ forward to playing…”

"You know I could play you,” Keicho said. “Why don’t you stay a while and wait for Okuyasu to get back?”

Josuke blushed, but he was smiling. “Yeah,” he said, “That sounds great!”

They played a few rounds on arcade mode, then switched to PVP. Josuke won the first match by chance, while Keicho dominated the next few rounds.

“Like I said, Josuke,” he echoed, “You just need a little more practice.”

The two of them sat on the couch again, this time closer. Their thighs touched, a detail Josuke only became aware of because they’d stopped playing. Keicho’s arm found its way on his shoulders again, but this time Josuke eagerly leaned into the offered hug. Both of his arms wrapped around Keicho’s stomach and he shimmied his legs all the way up onto the cushions. Keicho laughed a little and kissed his forehead again.

Josuke couldn’t fully comprehend exactly what was happening, but the joy in his chest blinded him and he was happy with that.

“Josuke,” he murmured, “you’re cute with your hair down like this. Why don’t you wear it down more often?”

“…Long story,” he said, eyes closed. Keicho’s fingers were in his hair now, combing stubborn strands away from his forehead. Dry padded thumbs traced down his sharp brow and to his ear, feeling the gem of his earring as he rolled carefully around it

Josuke’s breathing slowed to a calm, steady rhythm. He yawned wide and loud, squeezing Keicho before his hold slackened. He nuzzled the warm, broad chest beneath his cheek with a giddy smile.

“Cute,” Keicho mumbled. Josuke heard him and felt the bending folds in Keicho’s clothing as he leaned down. Chapped lips kissed his forehead and over his eyes. His lips were too far at that angle, lest Keicho break his back. Yet they tried anyway, ghosting over Josuke’s plump, parted lips, and he smiled.

Josuke heard the front door open, and Okuyasu’s raspy voice. Heard the footsteps coming closer, but he didn’t care to budge. Keicho greeted him and Okuyasu’s tone was that of surprise, but Josuke could only catch bits and pieces of their conversation as he drifted in and out of sleep.