homecoming :: josuke x reader

fourth period :: it's a date (part 2)

It might be almost midnight, but it's never too late to remember the time you were sixteen.

Prince's "1999" sounds surprisingly good on stereo speakers, and it sounds even better when you and the person you love are shouting the lyrics. It's one of the few times I liked the feeling of my ears ringing.

Amidst the chaos, I spot the parking garage to the university pass by as we cruise down the lane furthest from the exit. "BABE!"  I have to battle with the volume of the music.

"WHAT?!"

"WE PASSED THE EXIT!"

"WE'RE GOING TO MY CONDO!"

"CONDO?!"

"JOESTAR MONEY! HERE COMES THE BRIDGE!"

(Don't stop, don't stop, say it one more time.)

Even though I'm partially immersed in singing along, the expensive condos we roll past confuse me even more. Pain stings my throat as I shout, and I think to myself, this kid's full of secrets, isn't he?

When we park, Prince asks why these people have bombs, and Josuke slams the door of the Nissan as I lean on its roof. Warm orange light from the lobby shines through a pair of immaculate glass windows, and I can't help but stare at the floors and floors of building that tower above us. The car chirps when it's locked, and it makes me jump. Shoving the keys in his back pocket, he asks me, "You coming?"

We walk inside, and I glance over to the lobby - very obviously, recently built and lavishly furnished - before the familiar feeling of Josuke's hand filling the space between my fingers. He catches me blushing, and returns with a smile and a squeeze: "You're walking too slow, silly."

The elevator is yet another marvel of the building. The numbers Josuke presses are a shiny, plated chrome, and for whatever reason, the floor is carpeted, and the oak railing within seems to have been recently polished.

"How many floors up do you live?" I ask, leaning on the beam. We exchange a devilish look.

Years ago, one of the first real times I'd been embarrassed was the time when him and I decided to test out my old apartment's new elevator system. And as the doors opened on my floor, my poor old neighbor witnessed five long, painfully awkward seconds of two sixteen-year-olds making out.

(I could literally never look her in the eye again.)

"Near the top. I'd say we have about fifteen more seconds." He's already walking towards me.

"That's more than enough." I'm pressed against the cold metal wall, and his hands have already found their way around my waist.

Our foreheads touch for a moment as I lean in, and my fingers find their rightful place along his jaw - "Hurry up and kiss me, then."

It takes me twenty heated seconds to realize the elevator doors are closing.

"Josuke--" It leaves my mouth in sort of a whine, and the only sound he makes in response is somewhat of a grunt as his lips leave the corner of my jaw and reattach themselves on my neck.

"Josuke, we're at our floor."

"So?"

"The doors are closing!" Gently pushing him off me, I'm left with just enough time to wave my hands in between the doors to make them open again.

"Twenty-five seconds. I'd say that was a personal best." Josuke leans off of the wall and turns around, hair disheveled and cheeks dusted pink. "You would not believe how red your face is."

Weaving my hand back into his, I turn to him with an apparently warm, red grin. "Let's get a room, then!"

Josuke's condo is the kind of unexpectedly nice place where once you walk in, you have to look at the person who owns it with your mouth open a few times just so your brain can associate the place with the person. It doesn't have two floors, but that wouldn't be surprising, either. Immediately, I gravitate towards the massive windows that almost make me afraid to walk closer to the walls and let myself process the clear view of the twinkling city.

As my eyes dart from floodlight to streetlight to the blinking orb at the top of the radio towers on the hills, I feel the metal of his buttons press into my back.

Ah, the familiar feeling of his chin on my shoulder and his hands folded in front of my waist.

"Great view, huh?"

"Morioh was much quieter. I miss being there sometimes." I bite at the corner of my mouth. "It was crazy and noisy and bizarre sometimes, but that was because of all of us."

"It's weird when Morioh's all we've ever known."

"It's all you've ever known, Josuke. You belonged in Morioh."

"You knew it well enough to be a citizen."

"Wanna know something weird? I was born in Stuttgart, so technically, I'm German. But my parents are from here. But then I lived in Morioh for almost 11 years - so where is home?"

"Wherever you want it to be."

"Then ...right here, with you."

"I'd like that." He holds me just a little tighter and I take the opportunity to lean into him.

(And it does feel like home.)

I'm so distracted by the skyline that I don't notice that there's a balcony. Josuke throws the glass door aside and steps out, digging in his back pocket until he retrieves a cigarette. I step out into the cold and it stings my fingertips, compelling me to shove them into the pockets of my jacket. An old couch has been dragged out onto the balcony, contrasting the rest of the new interior of the condo, and Josuke flops down unceremoniously. I cautiously sit down next to him as he flicks open a lighter and lets the flame lick at the end of the cigarette. A steady stream of smoke drains out of his nostrils.

The ancient springs of the couch croak as I move closer to him. "Since when did you start smoking?"

"Since you left."

"Aw...Josuke," I sigh. I let him take a few drags before I take it from his mouth, holding it between my two fingers, and place a kiss on those chapped lips of his - as his arm snakes around my waist, I lay my forehead on his collarbone.

"You're killing yourself. Don't do that."

"Give me a reason."

"Well, you're sitting here next to me, aren't you?"

We lock gazes. I could stare at his eyes forever, watching his eyelids and those gorgeous eyelashes drop down ever so slightly over his pupils, going soft. Our foreheads touch.

"I'll sit here as long as you want. Just...Just— hold me," I say almost breathlessly.

We lean back into the couch until we're laying down across the cushions like a bed, my head resting on his collarbone the same way I remember we did that first time when we were sixteen. He blows another cloud of smoke into the air and his fingers tangle the bottom of my shirt. And for a second, I feel as if I'm right where I need to be.

"You make me numb," he whispers.

"In a good way?"

"In an excellent way."

(Two other things that have not changed about Josuke Higashikata: his shirts still fit me, and the empty side of his bed still cries my name in the same tone I cry his.)
———
05. — people spend their entire lives in the dark until someone special turns their head towards the stars. ☆