Eleven Years

But Today Just Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow

It had been a long trip. They'd lost Kakyoin, Avdol, Iggy, and Joseph had almost been lost, but thanks to Jotaro's quick thinking and Star Platinum's help, they'd saved him.
Polnareff sat alone, watching the sun set over the desert, head in his hands, past the point of crying. He only felt emptiness now, numb from the loss of their friends.
He didn't startle when a warm, firm hand gripped his shoulder lightly.
"I know." Jotaro said, before Polnareff could even speak. His voice was softer and quieter than usual.
He sat next to Jean, and allowed him to lean his head on his shoulder, blushing slightly at the intimacy of the moment.
He didn't stay distracted from the somber mood and the heaviness in the now cooling desert air. An unspoken question hung between them, but neither acknowledged it in favor of being present with each other. 
Night fell, and they stayed there, the last time they would be close like that. They had planes to catch and places to be, and unfortunately they were headed in separate directions. They didn't talk about the kiss.
Eleven years later, Jotaro had been married, had a daughter, and become a marine biologist and was currently investigating a dark figure he saw looming over Joseph's illegitimate son, his uncle, in Morioh, Japan. He was suddenly the guiding adult in a group of teenagers and he felt extra respect for the late Avdol, especially for handling Joseph all the time. He felt himself laugh, thinking of Avdol trying to corral Jiji, who's old and senile now. He quickly forces his smile away before any of the kids notice and ask him if he's having a stroke, since he's so old (he's 28, he swears he hates children, despite having one himself). Joseph had stolen an invisible baby, and slapped a ridiculous amount of makeup on her face, and named her Shizuka Joestar. Jotaro supposed he liked that child, it was quiet most of the time. And Koichi, he was very responsible for his age. And Okuyasu, who needed father figure in his life. And he supposed the scary one with the hair, Yukako, was entertaining when she was angry. Okay, okay, he liked these kids even if they were a pain in the ass, but he would never let them know it.
The investigation had led them to the discovery of a serial killer who liked taking the hands of his young female victims, for everyday 'tasks', and Jotaro had been busy researching the button they found- the one Josuke passed along to him, when there was a knock at his hotel suite door.
"Jiji, did you forget your room key again-"Jotaro was stopped mid-sentence by what- no, *who* he saw at the door.
It was Polnareff, wringing his hands in coat, staring at Jotaro's shoes, while a soft pink blush dusted his cheeks as he looked up to meet Jotaro's eyes.
"Hello, Dr. Kujo, it's been awhile."
"Yeah." Jotaro spoke, almost in a daze. He grabbed Polnareff by the waist and pulled him inside, and Polnareff tossed his bag and coat to the floor as their lips collided in a hot kiss, filled with eleven years of want and pain and the feeling like something had been missing until this very moment. Jean kicked the door shut behind him and dove back into the kiss, his hands sliding over Jotaro's bare muscled arms, as he'd forgone his own coat while investigating the button's origin, and gave a hearty groan deep in his throat as Jotaro's tongue chased the rumble. Polnareff allowed him the dominance of the kiss. Jotaro pulled him close, chest to chest. Jean's warm body always felt good against his own cooler one. Polnareff pulled back for air finally, but Jotaro chased his body heat. Jotaro continued to hold him close, burying his face in Jean's thick neck and murmuring "I missed you."
"I missed you too, missed your lips."
"I'm married."
"I know. And I don't care." Jean whispered into his hair.
"Good. Me either. Just thought you should know."
"Do you love her?"
"No."
"Then kiss me again."
Jotaro complied, this one much softer and slower than the last, tender and sweet. Jean hummed and Jotaro replied by placing one hand on the back of his neck and kissing him with deep adoration that had been simmering inside him for years.  He suddenly felt lighter, free of the weight of what-ifs and maybes, and let all of it go into the kiss. He supposed when this moment of bliss ended they'd have a lot of talking to do, but right now all he wanted was to melt into Jean and feel at peace. He was grateful they both had enough restraint to not just latch onto each other in the open hallway, he'd hate to have to explain to Joseph what the hell he was doing with that stranger who could be an enemy stand user that happened to look a lot  like Polnareff. After all, Joseph was still a bit slow on the uptake.
They separated once again, breathing erratic and faces flushed. Jotaro nodded in affirmation to Jean's unspoken question and moved them to the sofa across the room.
They sat in silence for a bit, to regain their composure. After some time, Polnareff spoke up, clearing the silence.
"So obviously I've been thinking about our kiss from years ago."
"Me too, all the time."
"I should've never left things so open-ended, I- I should've told you then, but everything happened and I was so confused and afraid- I didn't want to lose you too."
"I understand, I remember when my wife and I kissed, it was nothing like when I kissed you. I don't know why I married her, I don't know why I had a kid with her, I don't know why I stay. I think I was afraid of being alone again. Losing them, and then saying goodbye to you made me feel like I was hopeless, I wasn't meant to be someone who got it right on the first try, I was meant to settle for what came my way."
Polnareff felt himself bite his cheek at the word wife, but he knew that Jotaro needed to be a model family man for society to like him more, even if he disagreed with that way of thinking. It was simply self preservation, to seem more approachable and normal and to cover up some of the trauma. Polnareff was a hopeless romantic however, and chose to be alone, busting himself with whatever he felt necessary. He tried to take up painting, but he couldn't paint the pyramids or the ocean or dogs or even fruit bowls full of cherries without feeling like a failure. He didn't like music anymore because he could hear the gang singing along and he didn't like the echo of voices when he was alone. He started writing letters with the intention of never sending them, some of them with recipients unavailable anyways, and he found himself writing letters to Jotaro asking him if he remembered the kiss, if he remembered the night in the desert, if he'd like to meet and catch up- only to end up crumpling every last one into a rounded over pile in a wastebasket. Until he couldn't sleep or eat. So he bit the bullet and flew out to Morioh to ask him in person.
He supposed the buzz that lingered on his lips was answer enough to the first question.
He'd have to wait for the answer to the rest.