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“Hey man, i’m gonna go shower. Just chill here for a minute, okay?”
“Uh, yeah sure,” Okuyasu answers, but Josuke is already headed out the door, leaving Okuyasu alone in his bedroom.
And like, that’s no big deal. Josuke’s been complaining about wanting a shower for half the school day, and their whole way home. Okuyasu should have expected this, really, it’s not like he minds having to wait or anything. But something about being in Josuke’s room alone feels kind of paralyzing. Okuyasu shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks from foot to foot, looking around the room, at a loss for what to do with himself.
He’s been in Josuke’s bedroom a million times, they hang out here all the time, nothing new about that. The bed’s the same, the posters on the walls, pile of dirty clothes next to the dresser, books and other junk strewn across the desk. It shouldn’t feel like anything, just chilling here in his bro’s room waiting for him to shower. But it does feel like something, because this is Josuke’s space. It’s his junk on the desk, his posters on the walls, his clothes in the drawers.
(And Josuke himself is in the shower, all wet and naked, like only a handful of meters away right now, but Okuyasu had really better not think about that too much.)
And it’s not like Okuyasu’s gonna go through Josuke’s stuff or anything, but the fact remains that he could. He could rifle through the drawers, maybe see if Josuke keeps anything secret under his bed like Okuyasu does…
That’d be hella creepy of him, but it’s also really tempting.
But no, not gonna do that, just gonna plop down on the bed and chill and wait for Josuke to get out of the shower. And as his ass hits the mattress, and he feels it bounce underneath him, Okuyasu realizes what feels so weird about this. Josuke is trusting him in his private space. He’s trusting Okuyasu not to fuck with his stuff, or break anything —not that Josuke couldn’t fix it if he did— or just generally to see anything he’s not supposed to. —And Okuyasu’s pretty sure that’s never happened to him before. It seems crazy to think he’s never been alone in somebody else’s bedroom before, but like, definitely not since he was a little kid. It’s not like he’s ever had a lot of friends whose houses he could have gone to, and Keicho’s room was always off-limits.
He taps his foot, sits on his hands, looking around for something to do with himself. What do you do in someone else's room by yourself? Hell, what would he be doing in his own room? Reading a magazine maybe? Playing video games? Man, why didn’t Josuke leave him downstairs where the N64 is? He coulda been playing Castelvania right now instead of fidgeting awkwardly in his crush’s bedroom too afraid to touch anything in case it’s something he shouldn’t be touching. Because that’s really what the issue is. Josuke’s not just his best friend. Josuke is so, so much more than that. Okuyasu’s got such a big crush on Josuke sometimes he feels like he’s gonna burst into flame just thinking about him.
It’s pretty comfortable when they’re together, hanging out playing games, or doing homework, or even in school, or chilling with Koichi. Josuke’s cool, and funny, and nice to him, and sometimes that makes Okuyasu so flustered he can’t remember how to string words together, but it’s all good. Josuke in real life makes Okuyasu’s heart flutter, and laughs at his jokes, and sometimes even hugs him all close and tight, but Okuyasu can handle that, mostly.
When he’s alone though, it’s not so easy. When he’s alone and thinking about Josuke, which he is more often than not these days, his thoughts have a way of spiralling away from him, getting all caught up in the tiny details of him, the way Josuke’s eyes light up when he smiles, or how badass and intimidating he looks when he gets pissed off.
Sometimes it goes further than that. Sometimes Okuyasu starts thinking about how soft Josuke’s hands are, how good it feels when he hugs him or just leans his head up against him, how much he wants to lean in and kiss him then, how much he wants to feel those hands all over him...
Okuyasu has spent hours overanalyzing every innocent touch, spinning it off into a fantasy where they’re together, where Josuke wants him too. He’s also spent hours overanalyzing every stupid thing he’s ever said or done in Josuke’s presence, and kicking himself about every single one of them. He can’t help it. The Josuke in Okuyasu’s head is perfect. —Not that real life Josuke isn’t perfect, but real life Josuke is really fucking distracting, so Okuyasu doesn’t end up thinking too much about how bad he wants him, or how much he absolutely doesn’t deserve him.
Okuyasu is never sure why Josuke puts up with him; he’s just an ugly dumbass with nothing going for him. He knows he’s got absolutely no shot at getting with Josuke, even if they weren’t both guys, which just makes this whole thing weirder and more complicated. He’s lucky as hell that Josuke’s even his friend, let alone anything more than that. He’s just so great, cool, and sweet, and absolutely freaking gorgeous, and Okuyasu is well and truly crazy about him.
And it’s that Josuke —the Josuke in his head, perfect, gorgeous, untouchable Josuke— whose space Okuyasu is in right now, no real life Josuke to bop him on the back of the head for getting lost in thought and distract him from the bubbly giddy feeling he gets just being around him.
And that, it turns out, is a lot for Okuyasu to handle.
He gets up from the bed and starts pacing around again, just to have something to do with his body. He’s restless, and just sitting here getting lost in fantasy land is obviously not leading anywhere good. It turns out pacing back and forth doesn’t actually help at all though, and he feels like an idiot wearing a hole in the carpet so he casts around for something to do. He’s got school books in his bag, he could start in on homework, but that sounds boring as hell and probably wouldn’t help. There’s an issue of Weekly Jump sitting on Josuke’s desk, but it’s the same one Okuyasu’s been carrying around for ages, and he’s already read it cover to cover twice. Looks like Josuke hasn’t been able to afford the new one either.
At a loss, Okuyasu finally settles on the pile of laundry sitting on Josuke’s floor. He really doesn’t wanna impose by going through Josuke’s stuff (he totally does, but like, he’s not gonna go there), but putting the dirty laundry in the hamper can’t be a bad idea, can it? Miss Higashikata is always after Josuke not to leave his clothes lying around, so Okuyasu would just be helping. Cleaning up is a totally reasonable and normal thing to do, not weird at all. And if it gives him an excuse to touch Josuke’s clothes, well, that’s between Okuyasu and the god he’s pretty sure he doesn’t believe in anyway.
He scoops up a pile of undershirts and pyjama bottoms and tosses them into the hamper, and then bends down for more, trousers, socks. It’s only after the floor is empty of clothes that he realizes he should probably go through the pockets just in case there’s money or something in any of them that shouldn’t get washed. And sure, that’s a little weirder, a little more invasive, but like, he’s already started and it would be dumb to just take everything back out of the hamper and put it on the floor now. Going through Josuke’s pockets is really the only thing that makes sense.
Okuyasu fishes out a pair of trousers and shakes them out, sticking his hand into the pockets one by one. This was definitely a good idea, because apparently Josuke keeps all kinds of random crap in his pockets. There’s a pack of gum, a handful of loose change, a bunch of receipts, a comb, a little mirror... Okuyasu is wondering what the heck he should do with all this stuff, and starting to seriously regret his decision to touch the laundry in the first place when it happens. A pair of underpants falls out of one trouser leg and lands on his foot.
Okuyasu plays it very cool. He hardly even freaks out at all as he realizes what is currently sitting, crumpled and royal purple, on top of his sock. He definitely doesn’t yelp, or jump about a foot in the air. Instead, he places his handful of treasure carefully on Josuke’s dresser, tosses the trousers back in the hamper and calmly bends down to pick up Josuke’s underwear.
He’s touching Josuke’s underwear .
With his hands.
And it’s soft.
The fabric is thin, worn with age, with touching parts of Josuke that Okuyasu has only ever been able to dream about. He runs his fingers over them, lets them slip between his palms, catching on calloused skin. And he should stop this, he knows he should stop this, but it almost feels like he’s in a trance, lightning crawling under his skin, heart rate speeding up with the illicit thrill of getting to touch something that has touched Josuke. Okuyasu can’t help himself. He brings the fabric to his face, and sniffs.
Heady, sweaty, scent of boy, filling his nose, knocking out all his other senses as a desperate wave of arousal washes over him. Fuck. This is so bad. He’s being such a creep right now, but all Okuyasu can think about is how this little piece of fabric would look stretched over the curve of Josuke’s ass, how it would feel, so smooth under Okuyasu’s hands, the firm give of flesh under his fingers. Reaching down to cup the bulge of Josue’s dick, feeling it hardening in his hand, the little hitch in Josuke’s breath as Okuyasu squeezes, as he pulls him close, heartbeat hammering wildly in his ears, as he sinks to his knees and buries his face in the thin, dark fabric, as he opens his mouth and hears Josuke gasp…
Okuyasu doesn’t notice his other hand straying to his waistband until he’s already fumbling at the belt buckles, and by then, it’s too late to look back. He’s hard, aching, stumbling backwards to sit on Josuke’s bed, worn underwear pressed to his face as his hand pushes into his trousers.
*
Josuke steps out of the shower into a bathroom full of steam. He dries off quickly and pulls on a pair of joggers, sweeping his wet hair out of his face as he turns to look in the mirror on instinct. It’s too fogged up to see anything though, which means he can either wipe it off and risk his mom’s wrath, or just not make sure he looks okay before going back to join Okuyasu. It’ll probably be fine right? It’s not like Okuyasu is gonna care about seeing Josuke half naked with his hair all wet and messy. Okuyasu doesn’t care about stuff like that, even if Josuke would probably have a heart attack if their roles were reversed. Okuyasu has slept over plenty of times, it’s not like he’s never seen Josuke shirtless with his hair down before. This is really no big deal, and Josuke definitely looks fine, but he still has to steel himself before heading out back down the hall to his bedroom.
His door is slightly ajar, and he’s just about to push it further open when something makes him pause. Maybe it’s a quiet hiss of breath, maybe it’s just his instincts as a Stand user cluing him in to the intense energy radiating from inside his bedroom. Either way, he stops, hand on the doorknob and peers in through the crack.
Okuyasu is sitting on his bed, turned slightly away, one hand pressed to his face, the other moving rhythmically in his lap, and oh god, oh holy shit. He’s jerking off. Josuke freezes, pulse speeding to about a million miles an hour as his brain goes into overdrive.
This is undoubtedly the hottest thing he’s ever seen in real life. Okuyasu’s still got his clothes on and everything (well he left his school jacket downstairs), but his ears are flushed red, his big powerful shoulders hunched, muscles flexing, and Josuke can just see the head of his dick disappearing into his fist over and over, as his hand moves frantically back and forth and his body shakes with tension.
And oh fuck, oh fuck, what the hell is Josuke supposed to do now?
On the one hand, he’s clearly intruding on a private moment, and should probably just leave and pretend he never saw anything. He doesn’t wanna freak Okuyasu out. But on the other hand, he can’t tear his eyes away. He desperately wants to get closer, to get a better look at exactly what Okuyasu is doing, see just how he touches himself, exactly how he likes it.
...And maybe, Josuke could even touch him too, wrap his hand over Okuyasu’s around the hot hardness of his dick, pull him close, kiss him as he pants and shudders.
Fuck.
It’s like a wet dream come true. A wet dream Josuke has definitely had before, because, god, Okuyasu is the hottest guy he’s ever met, and Josuke is completely freaking head over heels for him. Goddamn. How many times has he been in the exact position Okuyasu is now? Sitting on his bed jerking it to thoughts of his best bro, all hot and bothered.
He wonders what Okuyasu is thinking about, and it’s only then that Josuke realizes what his crush has pressed up against his face. It’s Josuke’s underwear. Okuyasu is jerking off while smelling Josuke’s underwear.
And there’s only one thing that can mean, right? That means Okuyasu is thinking about him.
There’s only one way Josuke can possibly respond to this. Okuyasu is in his bedroom after all. Josuke has every right to just walk in there. Okuyasu may as well be straight up asking to be caught. It’s his bed, it’s his room, and it’s him Okuyasu is thinking about. Or at least he really fucking hopes so, or this is about to get really, really awkward. Josuke takes a steadying breath and pushes the door open.
*
When the bed dips under Josuke’s added weight Okuyasu startles so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t jump right out of his skin. His eyes snap open, hands going defensively to cover his crotch while his mind recoils in siren-screaming panic. Holy shit. Holy shit. He is fucked. Better to just call out The Hand and make himself disappear forever right now, because there’s no way he’s ever gonna be able to live this down. No way he’s ever gonna be able to look Josuke in the face again. Crush over. Friendship over. Life over. Man, what the absolute fuck is wrong with him?
Okuyasu is so paralyzed by mortification he doesn’t even flinch when Josuke puts a comforting hand on his back. His muscles are all locked in fight or flight as time seems to slow down and speed up all at once. All he can think about is how much he needs to disappear, and how little he can do about it.
“Hey,” Josuke murmurs. “Don’t freak out, dude, it’s okay.”
As if Okuyasu could do anything other than freak out right now. But Josuke’s words and his touch seem to break something open in him, and all at once he deflates. “Fucckk,” Okuyasu sobs, “i’m so sorry, dude, i’m so sorry.” He tries to pull away, get up off the bed and get the hell out of there, but Josuke grabs his arm and pulls him back.
“Hey! I just told you not to freak out!”
“Just lemme go, dude!” Okuyasu cries out, panic making his voice go all high and strange. “I’ll get outta here and you never gotta see me again.”
“Oku, i don’t want you to go anywhere!”
Okuyasu’s heart sinks even further in his chest. Of course Josuke doesn’t wanna let him go, he has every right to yell at him first. Okuyasu definitely deserves it, he just doesn't know how he’s gonna handle it. His brain is so full of buzzing panic and guilt he hardly registers Josuke’s next words.
“I want you to sit the hell back down, and keep doing what you were doing… I’m sorry i interrupted you, dude.” Josuke sounds kinda sheepish, and that can’t be right. He’s got nothing to apologize for.
“...What?” Okuyasu asks, finally looking up to gape at Josuke.
“I said, i don’t want you to stop, dude! That was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.” Josuke’s hand is still on Okuyasu’s back, and it moves up, cupping the back of his neck, pulling his face real close so Josuke can whisper right in his ear, “i wanna watch you get off, dude. I wanna help.”
Okuyasu shudders. “...Josuke, what the fuck?”
His mind is reeling, heart pounding like he’s just been in a fight, but all he can think about is how hot Josuke’s hand feels against his skin, still damp and shower-warm, how good it feels, how much he just wants to melt into it, like he wants to melt every time Josuke touches him.
“Come on, man,” Josuke murmurs, and the hand on Okuyasu’s bicep is sliding down, moving to wrap over the hand still covering his crotch, gently pulling the fingers away. “I wanna watch you cum,” Josuke whispers, and Okuyasu feels like the whole world has been ripped out from under his feet and he’s plummeting into nothingness. But Josuke’s lips are pressed right up against his cheek, and his voice is so sexy, all low and seductive, and Okuyasu can smell the minty perfume of his soap, and feel the heat radiating off his naked chest, still damp, and so gorgeous Okuyasu can hardly remember how to breathe .
This has gotta be a dream, right? It’s only in Okuyasu’s dreams that Josuke is naked and touching him, only in his dreams that Josuke talks like that, that Josuke wants him. Because no way in hell Josuke would ever want Okuyasu. But he’s nuzzling his face into Okuyasu’s neck; and his lips are so soft against his skin, tingling, shivering pleasure that makes Okuyasu’s hair stand on end as his whole body breaks out in goosebumps as his confused dick throbs. God, he was so close before, and he wants this so bad.
He wants Josuke so bad.
Okuyasu takes a slow shaky breath. “Okay.”
“Good boy,” Josuke purrs, and Okuyasu can feel the blood rushing simultaneously up to his face, and down to his dick. There are still tears staining his cheeks, and he can’t look at Josuke, but he doesn’t need to. Josuke’s hand on the back of his neck is guiding him, tilting his head, and then Josuke is kissing him . And it’s fine that Okuyasu's eyes are squeezed shut, because he couldn’t see anything for the fireworks going off in his brain anyway.
Josuke’s lips are so warm, plush, and perfect, and just a little bit hesitant, and it’s only now that Okuyasu realizes that despite all Josuke’s boldness, he’s shaking too. He’s nervous too. And that feels almost silly, and very sweet, because Josuke is the coolest, most awesome guy on the face of the planet, and the idea of anyone, let alone Okuyasu refusing a kiss from him is completely ludicrous. He wraps one arm around Josuke’s back, fingers tangling in the loose strands of his wet hair; and Okuyasu’s heartbeat is pounding because that feels impossibly intimate, no one ever gets to touch Josuke’s hair, but now, it’s just so easy, and nothing has ever felt more right.
Kissing Josuke is amazing. Slow, and sweet, mouths opening against each other, wet and messy, and fucking glorious. And Okuyasu still can’t believe this is happening, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s really hard to think with Josuke’s tongue pushing against his teeth, demanding entrance. Who cares if he can believe it? Josuke is kissing him, and he’s kissing Josuke, and as far as Okuyasu’s concerned, this is the best fucking thing that’s ever happened in the history of the universe.
Josuke pulls back slightly, mouthing along Okuyasu’s jaw to his ear and then down to the vulnerable spot beneath it. His lips are soft, almost teasing, and Okuyasu’s whole body feels like it’s on fire, tension shuddering through him, electric nerve-pulse elation as Josuke sucks the delicate skin of Okuyasu’s neck into his hot, wet mouth. His tongue flickers and Okuyasu can’t help the little moaning gasp that bubbles up in his throat as the whole world goes fuzzy around him. How can something as simple as a mouth on his neck feel so good? It’s impossible, and ridiculous, and he’s shaking, and Josuke’s hand over his own hand is wrapping around Okuyasu’s now once again very interested dick, and then Okuyasu is really gasping.
It’s nothing like touching himself, nothing like getting lost in his fantasies of Josuke. The Josuke he imagines is ethereal, immaterial. But this Josuke is so very real, body hard and muscular under Okuyasu’s free hand, pressing up against his chest, and the encouraging little noises he makes in the base of his throat as he continues to kiss Okuyasu’s neck are way hotter than anything Okuyasu could ever have imagined on his own.
His hand is wrapped tight over Okuyasu’s hand, fingers pressing down on his fingers, moving with him as Okuyasu tentatively starts to jerk off again. His dick is aching with want, so oversensitive, bright flashes of pleasure crawling under his skin and exploding behind his eyes as he touches himself, and Josuke touches him, and kisses him. And just being this close is enough to have Okuyasu coming apart at the seams.
“Fuck, Oku,” Josuke breathes, a cool shiver against Okuyasu’s wet, tingling skin, “You’re so hot, dude. ...drive me fucking crazy.”
The words feel like sinking into a hot bath, like coming in out of the cold, comfort and elation, wrapping around Okuyasu’s heart, buoying him up into the stratosphere. He whimpers, biting his lip, and then Josuke’s hand is moving faster, guiding him, stroking him, overwhelming him as pleasure wells, and pools deep in Okuyasu’s gut.
It’s so good he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so good he can’t think, Josuke’s words in his ear, all low and smooth, telling him how hot he is, telling him how much he wants him, how much he thinks about this. It’s impossible. There’s no way. But with Josuke’s hand on the tensed muscle of Okuyasu’s back, pulling him so close against his naked chest, with Josuke’s skin under his lips, and the taste of his tongue still in Okuyasu’s mouth, and his words soft and seductive in Okuyasu’s ears, Okuyasu almost believes him.
He almost feels like he deserves this, like he’s good enough for Josuke. And it’s that, more than the friction of his palm against the aching hardness of his dick, that sends Okuyasu over the edge.
He cums hard, clinging to Josuke with his free arm, head buried tight in the hollow of Josuke’s shoulder as every muscle in Okuyasu’s body winds tight, and blackness explodes behind his vision. The pleasure rolls over him in waves, each cresting, and breaking, only to be subsumed by another, even bigger, more devastating, shaking Okuyasu apart as he gasps and spasms in Josuke’s arms. He’s hardly aware of the desperate words forming on his own lips, escaping from deep within his soul as his world spins apart around him. “I love you, Josuke. I love you.”
“I love you too, bro,” Josuke whispers, holding the panting, sweating Okuyasu to his chest as his body continues to shake. “I love you so freaking much.”
It takes a while for Okuyasu to come out of his daze enough to string words together, but that’s fine by Josuke. Okuyasu looks adorable , all flushed and shaky, and Josuke would be happy to just get to hold him like this for the rest of his life. His wet hair is dripping onto Okuyasu’s shirt as Josuke leans down to kiss his temple, and Josuke doesn’t even care that it’s probably gonna be a wreck if he lets it dry like this. Anything would be worth it just to keep getting to hold Okuyasu like this.
“D’ya really mean that?” Okuyasu says eventually, when his breathing has calmed, and Josuke can feel him starting to pull away already, starting to retreat back into himself.
He cups Okuyasu’s cheek in his clean hand and tilts his head up so he can look deep into those gorgeous violet eyes, trying to make Okuyasu see every word of his truth, the sincerity of his intention. “Oku, i’m freaking crazy about you.”
If it were possible for Okuyasu to blush any deeper, hearing those words would certainly do it. He looks up into Josuke's face, and Josuke’s not sure if he’s about to start sobbing again, or grinning like that time they won the jackpot. In the end, it winds up being both.
“I love ya so much!” Okuyasu cries, going to throw his arms around Josuke’s neck, and the face he makes when he realizes that one hand is covered in cum is so horrified, and hilarious that Josuke can’t help bursting out laughing. Okuyasu looks offended for about half a second, but then he starts laughing too, and suddenly it’s like everything is normal between them again. Like they didn’t just confess, or maybe like confessing can just be as simple and easy as everything else is with them. There’s a reason they’re best bros after all. And maybe now they’re more than that, and that’s even better.
Josuke casts around for something to clean up with that doesn’t require him to let go of Okuyasu. He remembers the dirty underwear Okuyasu was clutching earlier and reaches over him to snag it, dropping it in his lap with a teasing smirk. That makes Okuyasu go all quiet again, eyes widening, ducking his head in flustered embarrassment as he goes to wipe off his hand.
“Sorry for being such a weirdo creep, dude,” he mumbles, not looking up. “Like don’t gemme wrong, i’m glad as hell it worked out like this, but still...”
“Bro, shut up,” Josuke laughs. “That was so freaking hot. You can jerk off in my bedroom anytime you want... Just as long as i’m invited!”
“Oh yeah?” There’s an escaped lock of hair falling in Okuyasu’s face, and tearstains down his flushed-pink cheeks; he looks totally wrecked, and goddamn if he’s not the sexiest, most beautiful, most perfect guy Josuke has ever seen. Josuke never wants to let go of him. He wants to kiss every part of him, and make cum like that again and again, shaking and gasping and good in his arms. He’d do anything for this boy, and he’s ready to prove it to him every day for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes to make Okuyasu happy.
“Maybe i’m gonna have to take you up on that then...” Okuyasu trails off, his eyes move down to the obvious tent in Josuke’s joggers, hand reaching out. “Hey… can i…?”
Josuke grins. “Oh hell yeah.”