#kakpolweek2016

——— 

Attraction to any other man other than Lord Dio feels wrong, at first. He should devote himself only to Lord Dio. Deliver his body only to his, and give it to no one else. But there is another man he wants to give it to. He is charming and gullible, powerful and loyal. Similar and different to Lord Dio in so many ways. Kakyoin knows he should not even think of any other man in this way. But, he cannot control the lust born inside him.

When he sees Polnareff speak to Lord Dio with smirks and expressive body language, he only feels envy. Not for Lord Dio; he has the joy of laying with him every night (that is, the joy that only comes after Lord Dio feeds from him and floods his body full of endorphins). But envy to be that involved with Polnareff.

The most they've interacted is casual passes in the grand, spacious halls of Lord Dio's mansion with Polnareff winking at him or asking him how his day has been. No knowing, teasing smirks or sultry words spoken to him in a heavily accented voice.

Kakyoin strives to change that.

After another night of witnessing Polnareff converse with Lord Dio like they've been partners for years has Kakyoin cornering the Frenchman as soon as he steps out of the lounge area with Lord Dio (which is littered with corpses of willing young women). Kakyoin nets him against the wall with Hierophant Green's glowing tentacles, leveling the other man with a cold violet gaze. Polnareff looks only mildly alarmed, with his hairless eyebrows raised. He crosses his arms casually and leans against the cool stone wall.

“Something I can do for you, Kakyoin?”

“I would like to be your friend,” the redhead states, flatly and to the point.

Polnareff grins, sapphire eyes glinting with amusement.

“Oh? My friend, huh?”

“Yes.”

Kakyoin glances down with a flick of his eyes to see a glinting sabre pressed gently to his throat.

“Then I suppose you should withdraw your Stand. Not very friendly of you, petit bijou.”

“What?” Kakyoin questions with a curious tilt of his head (into the sabre, but he doesn't care) as he lets Hierophant's tentacles whip back into nothingness once again. Polnareff laughs, a low sound that Kakyoin blinks at, marveled.

“It means 'little jewel'. Your eyes are like amethysts. Your hair like ruby.”

“...I see.”

Polnareff takes four steps forward, closing the distance between them just enough to stand right before him with his hands behind his back, an easy smile on his face with his blue eyes searching in Kakyoin's guarded gaze.

“Well, what did you have in mind, mon ami? Oh, that means 'my friend'. So there, you are already my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, Kakyoin then turns away and begins to pace away with a controlled stride.

“Follow me.”

        Brushing aside the canopy leading into his bedroom, Kakyoin guides Polnareff past his shelves of books and steps over the many blankets and pillows littered across the floor until Kakyoin reaches the foot of his wide, circular bed. Turning, Kakyoin faces an amused Polnareff and reaches up to begin unbuttoning his gakuran.

“Ah, it's become so clear now,” Polnareff says with a smirk as he steps up and slides his broad hands around Kakyoin's slender waist, further down to grope at his (rather flat) ass. Kakyoin shivers and tilts his head back, offering, before he realizes his mistake and rights his head again. Polnareff laughs and reaches up to grab a fistful of soft red.

“Mmm, only Lord Dio has fucked you, oui? Expecting me to drink your blood? Don't worry, I can make use of your throat, too.”

A weak gasp comes from the teen when his head is yanked back and Polnareff's hot mouth begins to slowly, gently kiss across his bobbing Adam's apple. Kakyoin's hands begin to shake as he finishes unbuttoning his gakuran and then the white button up underneath it. Polnareff's other hand immediately shoves underneath the layers of clothing to grope at his chest, rubbing firmly at his pebbled nipple with a rough thumb. Polnareff whispers against his jawline, lips soft against his skin as they move.

“No pain, not this time, Kakyoin. I know you are only familiar with pain. With me, you will only feel pleasure and release.”

Eyes fluttering shut, Kakyoin melts in his arms, unbelievably relieved and comforted by those words. Polnareff kisses his way to the redhead's mouth. Kakyoin's brow furrows, expecting teeth to sink into his lips and leave a bloody mess. But instead, Polnareff's confident lips are soft and warm and kind; moving against his slowly and gently until Kakyoin is grasping at Polnareff's olive green jacket and panting against his mouth.

Polnareff deviates from Kakyoin's reddened lips to instead mouth at his chin and jaw, his broad hand sliding out from his hair to instead run down across his back. Kakyoin is tired of the wait. He uses Hierophant Green, curling its translucent tendrils tightly around Polnareff's arms and legs, keeping him rooted to the spot. Tightening a tentacle around Polnareff's wrists, he yanks his arms behind his back, ceasing his touching.

Startled, Polnareff looks at the boy with slight confusion until the redhead steps back and sensually lowers himself onto the soft silken covers of his bed. He rests back on the tassel pillows, letting his long legs splay open lazily with his red locks strewn about his head. Polnareff swallows hard as Kakyoin releases the tentacles from around his limbs, a heavy look of intent and lust in his violet eyes.

———

The following evening, Lord Dio is on top of him, between reluctantly spread legs. Kakyoin is looking up at the ceiling, gaze distant and deep in thought. With his hands pinned above his head by Dio's broad hand, he waits patiently for his Lord to cease biting mouthfuls of his heaving chest. It hurts, every single time, because Dio has yet to feed from him and pump his body full of those wonderful endorphins that make everything okay again. He doesn't notice when Lord Dio leans back, lips smeared with bright red. His eyes glow, fixed down on the redhead's unfocused expression. He frowns.

“What is distracting you, little one? Why do you look away from me?”

Blinking, Kakyoin jerks his wide gaze to Lord Dio, panic curling in his chest like a snake. He shudders and speaks in a low whisper with his face becoming even paler than it already is.

“I... I apologize, Lord Dio. I am only tired. Please, do continue.”

“Your eyes are now fixed on someone else, aren't they? Who.”

Kakyoin flinches when Dio's bloody hand grasps him by the jaw, fingers pressing into his slender cheeks and making his mouth bunch up slightly. Kakyoin begins to pant with his bloody chest heaving, anxious. He's not afraid. He could never be afraid of Lord Dio, because then that would be disrespectful.

“N-No one. I love you, Lord Dio. Only you. I swear to you.”

Narrowing his eyes at the boy under him, Dio searches in Kakyoin's shaken gaze and then slowly releases his face, leaving behind a smeared red mark.

“Hm.”

That's his only response, and then he's leaning back in, head angled with his golden locks sweeping down to caress Kakyoin's cheek when he kisses him. Kakyoin whimpers as soon as Dio sinks his teeth in.

        Two hours later, Kakyoin leaves exhausted. Normally he would stay and sleep along with the vampire, but something unpleasant is curling in his gut and he doesn't like it. He hurries to dress, caring very little about ruining his clothes with blood, before rushing out of the room with quick taps of his sleek shoes on the tile. He stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Polnareff leaning against the wall with crossed arms. His head is dipped down slightly, face hidden by shadows.

When he raises his head upon hearing Kakyoin's departure, Kakyoin sees the hard look on his face. The anger in his sapphire eyes. He rises from the wall and steps up to him, but Kakyoin doesn't shy away. He levels the other man with a cautious, tense glare. He tugs up on the collar of his sloppily buttoned gakuran and then crosses his arms (ignoring the flaring burn from the teeth marks on his chest and sides).

Without saying a word, Polnareff sets a gentle hand on the small of Kakyoin's back and encourages him to follow with a tilt of his head. Kakyoin realizes he doesn't want Lord Dio to possibly overhear any words they may share.

Kakyoin nods, hard violet eyes softening, and follows.

In Polnareff's room (that is much more grand than Kakyoin's), Polnareff pulls the redhead into a unexpected embrace. Staring with wide eyes at the gold lacy silk decorating the wall, Kakyoin tenses up entirely, unsure what to make of it. Polnareff's warm hands are sliding up over his back, to lay over his shoulder blades as he rests the side of his head against Kakyoin's. It has the teen relaxing in his arms, closing his eyes as he bore his weight against the other man.

———

The moment Kakyoin glances up mid-conversation with Jotaro to see Polnareff pacing up with a friendly look on his face, the restaurant's menu clutched in familiar broad hands, his heart drops into his stomach. He clenches his teeth, eyes hard and gut twisting. Of course he sent Polnareff.

Anxiety chokes Kakyoin throughout the whole interaction between Polnareff, Joseph, and Jotaro. He knows Polnareff knows he's a traitor. He knows he's sitting right there, rooted to the seat with fear (Of what? Maybe disappointment. Maybe of one of those knowing smirks). When icy blue eyes flick over to meet his, Kakyoin sucks in a breath and stares right back, his face betraying him and portraying shock. Polnareff offers a kind, forced smile, eyes portraying nothing, before directing his attention back to the rest of the group. Then he reaches for a star shaped carrot.

Watching Polnareff in the midst of fight again, facing the wise, collected Abdul, gives Kakyoin a mixture of confusing feelings. Fear for Polnareff going too far and getting himself killed. Hoping that he will be incapacitated so the confrontation between them will never happen. The urge to intervene and end the duel. He just waits. He stands with the other two, watching apprehensively with a concerned expression on his slender face. Only after Polnareff is engulfed in flames and brought to his knees does Kakyoin bite his lip and look down to his feet.

At least Polnareff won't have to be under Dio's thumb anymore. At least he's free of that burden, with death. But then he is spared, and they're leaving his charred body behind, after Jotaro removes the flesh bud. Kakyoin casts a glance back at Polnareff's laying form as they're walking away, before averting his gaze.

Then, they're stopped at the dock by Polnareff, who had apparently healed at an alarming rate. Kakyoin tries to avoid his gaze, but once Polnareff begins to explain his quest in a firm, solemn tone, he pauses and then fixes his stare on the Frenchman with surprise.

He has never heard this story before. The terrible, awful truth. Why Polnareff had surrendered himself to Dio, why he went through so much suffering and pain for this seeking of revenge. Kakyoin had asked, a long time ago, why Polnareff was loyal to Dio. Polnareff had smiled at him faintly and gave some flippant answer and now Kakyoin knows why.

He can't say he's ecstatic about Polnareff joining them, but he won't speak up. He doesn't want the others to know he is already quite familiar with the Frenchman.

———

“Hey, Kakyoin.”

Tension shoots through Kakyoin's entire body as soon as he recognizes that voice. Sitting at a lone table at a cafe a minute's walk from the hotel, Kakyoin looks up from his weathered book to see Polnareff standing a foot or two away with his hands in his pockets, a weak, hopeful smile on his face.

He hadn't even addressed him until now, in Singapore. They hadn't exchanged words, even during the incidents with Dark Blue Moon and Strength. It's alarming. Kakyoin feels his heart pounding away, anxiety clutching at it like a fist.

“Polnareff,” Kakyoin greets, face cautious and stern. Polnareff's smile widens a little, sapphire eyes lightening.

“I know that face. Heh, it's nice seeing it again. Don't trust me yet, huh?”

Eying the other man, Kakyoin feels heat flood into his cheeks. He huffs and looks away, long bang smacking against his cheek with the motion. Polnareff snickers before Kakyoin mutters reluctantly, “Sit down, if you want.”

The rickety small chair squeaks and creaks under Polnareff's bulky weight. Peeking up, Kakyoin nearly laughs at the sight. That chair is much too small for him and Polnareff can definitely tell, considering he's making a frustrated face as he pointlessly shifts around in it to find a non-existent comfortable position.

“You know what, fuck this chair,” Polnareff says, giving up and instead smacking his hands down on the table. Kakyoin grins for just a split second before quelling it, but Polnareff still notices it and smiles fondly. Blushing, Kakyoin looks down at his book and busies himself with folding the corner of the page and shutting it.

“I wondered what happened to you,” Polnareff begins, voice a tad hushed, his blue eyes fixed on Kakyoin's shyly hunched form, “...Dio never told me what happened. I asked and asked but... He just didn't tell me whether Jotaro had killed you or what. I had to find out by... by seeing you. Seeing you walking with the group into that restaurant. I...”

Kakyoin curls his fingers tightly around the top of the book and hesitantly glances up to look at Polnareff's conflicted face. This is what he was afraid of. Polnareff expressing his disappointment and disgust. But then Polnareff gives a slight smile and Kakyoin finally notices the blurry tears in his pretty cerulean blue eyes.

“I was so relieved. After that, I had that slight hesitation in me. To betray Dio and refuse to confront you guys. But... Of course, his will and desire overruled mine. I... I was even relieved, burning on the ground like that. I lost the true desire to serve him from the very moment I saw you. I think that's how Abdul defeated me.”

“...You're still the same.”

Blinking, Polnareff looks at him with surprise. Kakyoin wryly smirks, violet eyes searching in Polnareff's.

“So open and honest. You possess no filter with your words. I expected you to awkwardly comment on the weather but instead you pour your heart out to me. Me, who abandoned you once Jotaro freed me from Dio's shackles.”

“I don't blame you,” Polnareff sighs, reaching out across the table before realizing his mistake and pulling his hand back with a blush on his face. Kakyoin hesitates just a moment before sliding his slender hand out across the wood of the table, palm up and offering. Polnareff beams at him and reaches out to set his broad hand atop the redhead's. Kakyoin feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He smiles back at Polnareff.

———

The first week and a half is extremely bumpy, dealing with the first two Stand users on water and then Yellow Temperance, Devo, Abdul's “death”, Polnareff's grief. Kakyoin knows Polnareff too well, from all those years, and convinces the others to hold their tongue about Abdul because he's well aware Polnareff can't hold his. He was one of the major gossipers in the mansion when they both served Dio.

Traveling across Pakistan by Jeep with the others is tense, with Polnareff's reckless driving and Kakyoin's thinning patience. Once again, Jotaro saves their lives and Kakyoin finds himself grateful of the other teen. Meanwhile, Kakyoin has come to realize Polnareff is considerably less charming and impressive when he's not influenced by Dio, but he supposes this is only his true self. He was incredibly different himself when he was under Dio's control. Colder, distrusting, and unfriendly. Whereas Polnareff was cunning, attractive, sharper, and even manipulative, if he chose to be.

And now, Polnareff is obnoxious, clumsy, hot-headed and brash. But he is also strong-willed, committed, loyal and caring. Kakyoin often finds himself repulsed and equally attracted to the man, which is more than frustrating and confusing.

It's only after they work together to defeat The Lovers does Kakyoin feel truly in sync with Polnareff again, like they once were when they lived in Dio's mansion. That Polnareff now understands him once again—now as Kakyoin and not as Dio's slave.

Only after their battle with the tiny Stand, when adrenaline is still pumping through them and Polnareff continues grinning with triumph, does Kakyoin feels the urge to kiss him, for the first time since they were reunited. He presses a hand to his perspired forehead, looks away from the vibrant Frenchman, and mentions that they should regroup with Jotaro.

———

Exhaustion crawls through their bodies like lead following the draining “fight” with Arabia Fats. In the circle of sleeping bags, with flickering fire in the center of the ring, Joseph and Polnareff snore noisily. Jotaro lays awake from insomnia (unbeknownst to Kakyoin), though his eyes are closed. Kakyoin is staring up at the breath-taking night sky littered in glistening stars.

He wants to scoot over to where Polnareff lay and snuggle up against him. He wants to slide his hand down into his sleeping bag and grab his hand. He wants to kiss him.

It's stuck on his mind like a broken record.

He wants to kiss him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to touch him.

He doesn't. He falls asleep soon after the thought persists.

———

The first time they (finally) have privacy, its in a cozy, rustic little inn. It smells like wood and dust all-around, but it is still very comfortable for Kakyoin's standards. When they first get settled in the moderately furnished room, Polnareff tosses his bag on his bed and loudly claims he is going to take a long, hot shower and jerk off while he's at it. Kakyoin sets his bag down meanwhile and steps up beside the boasting Frenchman, who soon stops blabbing and looks over at the teen with an arched brow and an easy smile on his face.

Kakyoin raises his hands to rest them over Polnareff's strong jaw. He's given a startled look before Polnareff realizes what his intentions are. He grins and sets his hands on Kakyoin's slender waist, like before. It's familiar and easy. Kakyoin's face heats up as he stares into Polnareff's delighted blue eyes, his own face a tad hard and unsure. Is he making a mistake, initiating romance again with the other man?

——— 

The first thing Polnareff thinks upon stepping into the dull, white room and laying his eyes on the laying redhead is that he's so frail looking. Like he could shatter if he touched him. He's so... pale. His eyelashes are a stark contrast to his skin, resting against his cheeks. He looks like a ghost. Polnareff swallows hard and approaches. He takes a seat on the wobbling, little chair by the hospital bed and hesitates only a moment before reaching out to gently rest his hand over Kakyoin's.

Cupping his other broad hand over his mouth, Polnareff stares at his face. His toes and last two fingers are missing, and his ribs are cracked (though he is definitely given pain medication for those wounds), but he definitely didn't come out worse than Kakyoin. He looks so... He just looks terrible. Polnareff feels his eyes sting. He's tired of that feeling. He's felt it so often in the last couple days and he wants to stop it. Just stop crying. But he hates how he couldn't protect Abdul, he couldn't protect Jotaro from Dio, he couldn't prevent Kakyoin from having a fist punched through his torso.

Why is he so useless? Two amazingly brave teenagers had it worse than him. They supported the group and did all they could, and succeeded, in defeating Dio. Why is he so goddamn pathetic?

With his hand trembling over his mouth, Polnareff feels the bitter tears drip from his red eyes, down his sunburned cheeks to disappear against his fingers.

“You are only seventeen,” Polnareff whispers hoarsely amongst the soft beeping of the heart monitor, his face twisting up slightly in pain, his burning eyes glistening, “You're so young. How could this have happened to you? I'm so sorry. Fuck...”

He rubs at his eyes, exhausted beyond comprehension. Weighed down, he finds the need to duck forward, resting his forehead against his hand atop Kakyoin's.

“Please, wake up soon.”

———

They find him hours later. He's nearly swept away into the ocean off the blood-caked rock, the salty water lapping at his lower half and making his obscenely curled body shift again and again. Kakyoin immediately lurches over, hands on his knees, and heaves when he sees Polnareff's intestines and shredded organs splayed across the boulder like a butterfly pinned to a board for all to see. His head is carved down the side, showing a grotesque sliver of skull. His eye and eye socket is just a mess and flooded with blood, remaining partially lidded with his other eye closed. His arm is missing. Probably lost to the ocean now.

Jotaro uses Star Platinum to move aside nearby rocks, stepping around repeatedly to inspect the scene and debate what they should do, his legs splashing through the lapping water. Then he looks up, stares at the sight of Kakyoin wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, and says calmly, face hard, “Kakyoin. We need a helicopter.”

Spitting out the lingering stomach acid in his mouth, Kakyoin nods, turns away from the sight, and pulls out the bulky phone from his trench coat pocket. He has to redial the foundation's emergency line three times before finally getting it right.

      “Oh, God,” Kakyoin whispers in a short breath, hand pressed to his chest with his violet eyes wide behind the green frame of his glasses. He's leaning over at the waist, eyes fixed on the tile floor as he starts to pant, his long ponytail slipping past his shoulder to hang towards the floor. Jotaro has never seen him so unhinged and in open emotional distress. His shaking hand curls into a tight fist against his dark green top, his eyes closing.

Jotaro reaches over and sets a broad hand on the center of his back.

“He'll be fine. The foundation will find a way.”

“He... He was out there for hours,” Kakyoin whispers with his brow furrowing and jaw tensing, not really processing Jotaro's comforting words. He opens his eyes again to stare at the floor, “His organs had to have died. They had to—W—We were too late. His heart stopped beating, Jotaro. He—He was truly dead, on that rock. For hours. Oh, Jesus.”

He presses his shaking hand over his face to hide his twisted up features. Jotaro presses his lips together when Kakyoin sobs and sucks in a shuddering breath. Jotaro turns to face the other man and then silently brings his arms up to curl them around Kakyoin, stiffly. He sucks at hugs, and comfort by physical touch isn't really his go-to method, but Kakyoin immediately clutches at him regardless. He buries his face into his shoulder and starts to cry, hands curling tightly into Jotaro's white coat. Sitting together in the waiting area of a hospital in Rome, Jotaro continues to hold him, eyes closed and brow furrowed tightly.

He didn't cry when he woke up years ago only to realize he was still alive and he had a new spine. He didn't cry when he first held the little bundle of Jotaro's newborn daughter, who had then grabbed onto his finger with a tiny fist, and he didn't cry during the ceremony when he married Polnareff. This is the first time he's ever seen Kakyoin shed tears.

———

Polnareff comes to a month later. A month of never-ending painful hope and exhaustion and numbness for Kakyoin, until he's given a call while he's standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables for a late dinner. As soon as he sputters out a flurry of quick, breathless questions and politely hangs up, he leaves the food on the counter to run and grab his coat and keys.

The entire way there he's tempted to speed and run red lights but he knows better than that. He drives stone-faced and with a hammering heart. Anxiety eats at his insides like a disease, gnawing and gnawing at him as he parks and shakily hurries into the lobby of the hospital. It suffocates him as he strides quickly past all the nurses and people lingering in the hallway, until he reaches the room.

Hand hovering on the door knob, his heart skids to a stop and he comes to realize he is terrified. He opens the door and steps inside.

When he looks inside, his mind is still attempting to wrap around what he's seeing.

Jotaro is showing Polnareff all of the pictures of Jolyne that his wife had taken while they were traveling through Greece, Egypt, and Rome. His hulking form leaning over a frail, skinnier Polnareff, who is smiling and laughing,  showing him a handful of pictures, is beyond disbelieving. Kakyoin blinks, stunned. Why is this so startling to him?

They both look up at the sound of the door closing. Kakyoin sucks in a breath. He recalls he hadn't gotten ready at all for this: his hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, his glasses are barely hanging onto his nose at this point, he hadn't changed out of the splattered jeans he wears while painting, and he has his house slippers on. Despite that, Jotaro's face softens and Polnareff grins, bites his bottom lip, before his face suddenly falls from gleeful to something pained. And then he bursts into tears, hand raised to slap over his mouth.

That's when Kakyoin's legs finally move and he's running over to Polnareff's bedside. At first, he stops himself from hugging him, knowing he could be in pain or it could strain his body or something, but Polnareff does it for him regardless. He throws his arms around him and Kakyoin pauses, frozen, before melting and returning it gently. Polnareff sobs, crying already (though Kakyoin isn't surprised), and gasps out, “Nori, I'm so sorry!”

Kakyoin sucks in a breath, shakes his head, and says firmly, “You're fine, it's—it's not your fault, you're fine. I love you so much, Jean.“

Polnareff lets out a breathless, ragged laugh and squeezes him tighter in his weakened arms. Pulling back from the hug, Kakyoin then cups Polnareff's flushed, wet face with trembling hands. A glistening blue eye gazes up at him with a mixture of emotions (pain, desperation, longing) and Kakyoin searches in it before tilting his head and leaning in to kiss him. Polnareff clutches at the old, faded Pacman t-shirt Kakyoin wore and returns the kiss desperately with a clenched eye and firm purses of his lips. Jotaro is pulling down on the bill of his hat with his eyes downcast, smiling faintly from behind his hand.

Only when they separate does Polnareff shakily glance towards their friend.

“Hey, Jotaro... Um.”

“Got it,” Jotaro says in a low murmur, earning a curious glance from Kakyoin, before he's politely excusing himself from the room. Kakyoin watches him leave and then glances back to Polnareff. Polnareff looks reluctant and even afraid, eyes downcast to Kakyoin's paint stained pants. Kakyoin takes a quiet seat on the chair by the bed, pulling it as close as possible. He reaches out to take Polnareff by the hand atop the bed, brushing his thumb back and forth against the back of his hand. Polnareff swallows hard and meets his patient gaze. His other hand curls into a fist on the covers.

“Nori... I'm... I'm kind of messed up now.”

Nodding slightly, Kakyoin glances down to their hands, heart clenching up. Polnareff lets out a shuddering breath, appreciating the averting of his eyes. It makes him less scared to talk.

“Things won't be the same anymore. I... I'm missing parts of myself now,” Polnareff whispers, gazing at Kakyoin's face sadly. He pauses, giving Kakyoin the chance to say something, but when he doesn't, he continues softly, “And... I... I understand if you don't want to deal with that. If you want... If you want some time alone. Or something. You don't have to force yourself to be with me.”

Looking up to meet his gaze again, Kakyoin's face becomes stern as he says in a low voice, hand tightening on Polnareff's, “I will never leave. Don't ever think that I might, or that I could. I never could. I want to be by your side, Jean, no matter what.”

“I'm not the same anymore,” Polnareff shakily murmurs, his tired blue eye glistening with the film of brewing tears, “I messed up. I lost an eye and both of my legs and half of my fucking torso. How is that okay to you?”

“Because you're okay,” Kakyoin whispers, reaching out to set his other shaky hand on Polnareff's wrist, his eyes watering now too, “I won't leave due to any change you may go through, no matter how severe. I won't love you any less. You're still Jean, the man who I love and married. Both of us will learn to adjust. It will be hard... And that's what I'm most concerned with, Jean.”

He pauses, sniffling as he bit his lip. Seeing Polnareff cry has his repressed tears simmering at the edge. He blinks a couple times and exhales shakily, squeezing his hand around Polnareff's.

“I'm more concerned about your recovery than how you look. It's going to be so hard, Jean. But I know it'll work out. You and I will be okay. I just wish... I just wish you had come back for me.”

Kakyoin rubs at the tear that broke free and slipped down over the vertical scar on his cheek. Polnareff lets out a shuddering breath and squeezes his hand around Kakyoin's.

“I know,” Polnareff whispers, biting his lip with his eye squinting down at the blankets on his lap as he clenches a fistful of the covers, “I'm so sorry. I thought—I-I was on the right track and I didn't want to lose that chance.”

Saying nothing, Kakyoin just brings his other hand up to cup Polnareff's jaw as he leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

“Don't beat yourself up over it,” Kakyoin murmurs, pressing his forehead against Polnareff's with his eyes closed, “It's in the past now and I have already forgiven you. Please don't dwell on it, Jean, I know you tend to do that.”

“...I'll...I'll try not to.”