#jotarohan

There were very few weaknesses that could be ascribed to the great Rohan Kishibe. He was creative, talented, driven, and of course humble. The magazine that published Pink Dark Boy had called his debut chapter the most promising manga of the year, and he had only surpassed expectations. He was rich and famous at an age when his peers were only just now leaving college, and he was respected in manga circles as a superhumanly prolific author.

However, he did have one weakness. Rohan loved ice cream.

For anyone else, an affinity for a particular treat would not be a problem. But for a creative mastermind like Rohan, it was crushing. It meant he had to leave the serenity of his house at least once a week and venture out to the local ice cream parlor. Could he have simply bought ice cream at the grocery store and kept it in his fridge? Yes, but a true connoisseur recognized the superiority of freshly-made ice cream, and Hell would freeze over before Rohan spent hours making his own. He had manga to draw.

As with all things in his life, Rohan had a system for obtaining his one vice. He would ride his motorcycle to the ice cream parlor every Tuesday afternoon around one thirty, purchase a cone with one scoop, eat it at the store in a fairly expedient fashion, and then return home by two.

Today was meant to be the same as any other Tuesday. Rohan was in an especially good mood. That morning, he had finished another chapter, putting him a whole six months ahead of deadline. He entered the ice cream parlor in high spirits, only to have them instantly squashed.

Sitting at one of the tables, with a laptop open in front of him, was none other than Jotaro Kujo.

In Rohan’s opinion, there was nothing worse than running into someone you knew while out doing business. It was guaranteed to be awkward. Enemy Stands, ridiculous publishing deadlines, all that he could handle better than the uncomfortable moment of ‘oh, fancy seeing you here’ that inevitably awaited meeting an acquaintance at random. And the fact that it was Jotaro made the whole situation about ten times worse.

To say Jotaro was a quiet man would be an understatement. He was withdrawn and stoic to a fault, the sort of mysterious character who showed up to sweep the heroine off her feet and carry her away into the sunset. Jotaro probably had some dark secret or tragic past that made him as standoffish as he was. And Rohan would just love to read his story and find out.

No one else made Rohan feel the same as Jotaro did. He was a simply beautiful specimen of a man, like some massive work of art given life. But it was more than aesthetic appreciation. Rohan wanted to touch that body, to see every inch of it uncovered, to feel the skin against his. Rohan had tried many different words for that desire, but the one that suited it the most was attraction. He was attracted to Jotaro, and that made interacting with him a nightmare.

Rohan didn’t know what to say around Jotaro. To think the great author Rohan Kishibe was at a loss for words was hard to imagine, but it was true. Jotaro would say some gruff one-liner and Rohan would just melt, reduced to a stammering mess because it was so hard to believe someone like Jotaro could exist outside of manga.

“Hey, Rohan.” Jotaro looked up from his laptop and waved him over.

Maybe he could just leave. Ice cream wasn’t a necessity. Rohan could just go home and never leave the house. Have all his meals delivered, get Koichi to do his shopping, never show his face around Morioh again. Yeah, that could work.

But he couldn’t throw away his chance at Jotaro like that. If it had been anyone else, Rohan would have just turned around and walked out of the ice cream parlor. Instead, he made eye contact with Jotaro, quite a feat in itself, and held up a finger, the universal signal for ‘one minute’.  If he was going to be there, he would at least actually get ice cream.

Rohan ordered a scoop of mint chocolate chip, the color matched his green shirt rather nicely, and took the cone with shaking hands. Jotaro clearly wanted something from him. What could it be? Something to do with Kira most likely. Ever since the man had disappeared with three bodies in his wake, attacks by enemy Stand users had picked up in frequency and everyone in Morioh who knew about them was on high alert.

“Take a look at this,” Jotaro said, as Rohan approached his table. He pulled a chair up beside him.

Rohan sat down, and immediately became aware of how close together they were sitting. Jotaro probably hadn’t noticed, but their knees were almost touching. Perhaps Rohan could get away with touching their knees together, under the guise of an accident.

All thought of discreet touches was pushed from Rohan’s mind when he actually looked at the screen. “Are those starfish?”

There were two pictures open on the laptop side-by-side, showing two different yellowish starfish. “Yes.” Jotaro was as serious as ever. Surely this couldn’t be what he wanted to show Rohan, could it? He pointed at the one on the left. “This is the Japanese Common Starfish. And this-“ He pointed to the other. “Is a picture I took in Morioh Bay.”

“And?” Rohan knew Jotaro was some kind of biologist, but it hadn’t really come up until this point.

“You’re an artist, so you’ve got good eyes. What’s the difference between the two?”

Rohan squinted at the screen. The second picture was hard to make out, obviously not a neat, professional photograph like the one on the left. “Proportions. The arms are shorter and the bit in the middle is bigger on the right one.”

“I knew it.” There was a change in Jotaro’s face. It softened, not quite enough to call it a smile, but still noticeable. “Thank you.” Jotaro put his hand on Rohan’s shoulder and Rohan just about felt his heart stop in shock.

“Wh-what does it mean?” Rohan couldn’t believe the sound of his own voice. It was much higher than it should be. His face felt hot.

“I think Morioh Bay has a unique subspecies of Japanese Common Starfish.” Jotaro looked down at the table. “And your ice cream’s melting.”

Indeed it was, running down the cone and dripping onto the table in little green puddles. Rohan grabbed a handful of paper napkins from the dispenser on the table and attempted to clean up the mess as best he could.

Jotaro dipped his finger in one of the puddles and raised it to his lips. His tongue darted out and licked the liquid off and it was almost erotic the way it moved. Rohan felt dirty just watching.

“Mint?” Jotaro asked. Rohan nodded, trying desperately to hide what was quickly turning into quite an impressive blush, and he continued, “I haven’t had mint chocolate chip in a while. May I?”

Rohan somehow found his voice. “Go ahead.” Suddenly Jotaro’s hand was on top of his and Jotaro leaned forward and…

In most cases, Rohan was above flat out lust, but this was not most cases. Jotaro’s tongue moved like a cat’s and Rohan could see every ridge and valley and it took every ounce of strength not make some terribly embarrassing sound when all he could think about was how that tongue would feel probing the inside of his mouth, how it would taste, how Jotaro would look licking his-

“Rohan?”

“I- I’m fine.” Rohan was jerked rudely from his imagination and back into reality, where Jotaro was unfortunately not doing anything like that.

“Good.” Jotaro had that look again, that almost smile. “Are you busy this evening?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Would you like to go out to the bay and look for starfish?” Jotaro seemed to notice what he was saying, and it was his turn to look a bit flustered. “Because you’re so good at telling them apart.”

Rohan couldn’t believe it. Jotaro was so calm. He shouldn’t be getting embarrassed at such a businesslike request. Unless he meant something else by it.