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cosmicevila · 6 years

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JJBA Secret Santa 2018 Fic: Mirror for You

Merry Christmas, @rember-redink! I was your Secret Santa for the JJBA Secret Santa exchange! I tried to incorporate two of your OTPs, so I hope I was able to do them both justice!

Fic title: Mirror for You

Pairings: Josuke/Koichi, YasuGap

Rating: G

Two couples are reflected in one another.

People always asked Koichi why he bothered with “a guy like Josuke.” They never explained that phrase, but Josuke knew exactly what it implied—a thug like Josuke, an asshole like Josuke, a guy as frightening and intimidating as Josuke, who could and would beat you to a pulp for the smallest of offenses. Even though they were adults now, and Josuke had become a well-respected police officer in Morioh, for fuck’s sake, known for his perception and quick thinking in tense situations, people still questioned Koichi and Josuke’s relationship. Hell, they’d been dating since the end of high school and people still asked Koichi when he was going to settle down with a nice young woman. These questions really didn’t make them angry anymore like they used to, but Koichi wasn’t particularly good at hiding his feelings, and when they met on Clover Bridge after Koichi was finished grading his high school literature students’ homework, as they did every day so Josuke could walk him home and they could chat for a moment, Jouske could read the frown lines on Koichi’s skin and know what kind of day he’d had from their depth, and how many people had tried his patience.

And it’s not like Koichi was any sort of shy about sharing Josuke’s most positive traits with the people that quizzed him—“He’s a good person with a good heart, he’s always in my corner, I feel safe with him, he’s a nice guy who just doesn’t suffer fools”—each compliment made Josuke’s heart go supernova, and he thanked whatever gods happened to be listening that this sweet guy who thought so highly of him had chosen to stay at his side for as long as he had. That first year of high school was full of horrors that he never could have imagined, but it was also the year that Josuke met his ride-or-die bro Okuyasu, with whom he was still as tight as ever all these years later (although they argued sometimes when Okuyasu went past the speed limit testing whatever new motorcycle he’d just finished repairing while Josuke was on patrol, because Josuke really didn’t want to give his ride-or-die bro a speeding ticket even though it was The Law), and Koichi, the man he hoped to marry someday, and all of his other friends, living and dead and alien, and Josuke held them all close in his golden heart.

As Josuke watched the water flowing underneath Clover Bridge, the winter air cold enough to make his breath visible but not cold enough to freeze the Ichigo River, waiting for Koichi on a sliiiiiiightly-over-regulation-length break, he thought, with a smirk, about the people who asked him about Koichi, asking him why a tough guy like him wanted to date a wimpy nerd like Koichi. So few knew that Koichi was a fucking badass! People didn’t bother Okuyasu about dating Mikitaka as much as they did Josuke dating Koichi, and Mikitaka was the one who was mistaken for a woman half the time. Maybe it was because Okuyasu and Mikitaka were proud enough oddballs that derogatory comments flew right by them (or because any implication that femininity equaled weakness led to either a punch from Okuyasu or the standard speech from Mikitaka about all of the strong women he knew personally, which did include Josuke’s mom and did just about make Josuke die from embarrassment because of it). Anyway, these small-minded people pissed Josuke right the fuck off. If they managed to get past, “How can a tough guy like you be gay?” and still be standing, which depended on if they’d dared to use a slur and how close Josuke was to his yearly review from the chief of police, the next question was always slandering Koichi’s strength. Usually, the question asker certainly wasn’t standing after that, and even if they were, Josuke just couldn’t tell them about all of the times that Koichi physically kicked someone’s ass with Echoes, because he couldn’t just explain Stands to randoms. But even without Echoes, Koichi’s heart was strong and proud, and Josuke loved his steadfastness, and the strength of his sense of duty and justice. Koichi was the only one of them that Jotaro regularly contacted on behalf of the Speedwagon Foundation, after all. And Koichi’s inner well of determination must be bottomless, because his endless patience during their study sessions got Josuke and Okuyasu through high school and into police academy and engineering college, respectively. Koichi’s blushed as hard as he had when Josuke kissed him for the first time when Tomoko told him that he was an educational miracle worker.

As he watched the water and thought about his kewl boyfriend, people passed Josuke on Clover Bridge, some passing so closely that Josuke thought he could see their reflections in the chilly water. But then a flash of pink caught Josuke’s eye, hair the color of cherry blossoms, and Josuke first thought that Reimi had come back to call on him for some dire Heavenly crisis, but then he noticed the pigtails—

—And a familiar voice asked, “Josuke-kun, what’s wrong? What did you see?”

Josuke’s frantic looks landed on Koichi, bundled in a green down puffer jacket that made him look as small as he had when Josuke first met him. Koichi hadn’t gotten quite the growth spurt that he had hoped for, but he was only about a head shorter than Josuke now, and Okuyasu had roped him into lifting weights with him “to get ripped and look their flyest when they were riding motorcycles,” never mind the fact that Koichi had about as much interest in riding motorcycles as Josuke had in getting a pet turtle. Josuke grinned and relaxed. “Nothing, Koichi,” he said. “The light was playing some weird tricks, making your hair look pink in your reflection in the water. I thought Reimi was back. And you don’t have to call me –kun.”

Koichi laughed sheepishly. “I know, Josuke-k—Josuke. It’s just a hard habit to break.” He leaned on the wall of the bridged and peered down. His regular blonde brushcut stared back at him. “I’m glad that it was just the light. I don’t think I could pull off pink hair.” He glanced at Josuke. “You could, though. You could pull off any color, I’m sure.”

Josuke batted his eyelashes, painted heavily with mascara, at Koichi. “That sounds like a challenge. What colors would you put me in?”

Koichi hummed as he thought before saying, “Grey-green, like a turtle.”

Josuke scowled. “That was a Rohan answer, you dick. I’m leaving.” Koichi laughed, though, and took Josuke’s hand, and whatever anger had flared up within him dissipated like fog in the sunlight.

“I think you look best in deep purple,” Koichi murmured. “It suits you, body and soul.” And what could Josuke do to that except pick Koichi up and kiss him, sweet and long and mirthfully, right there in public?

On Clover Bridge in another Morioh, Josuke slumped against the bridge railing, watching the leaves on the river float underneath the bridge and silently lamenting how short his shirt was as the cold winter air found a way into his jacket to freeze the skin of his stomach. Yasuho was late for their—date? Were they dating? He loved her, he knew that. The person who found him when he was new and nothing, and the only person who saw him as one hundred percent his own self. Sometimes, that fact alone made him curl up underneath the mattress late at night and sob, from isolation and grief that he hardly understood, and gratitude that at least one person cared about Josuke Higashikata, the gap-toothed, bicolor-eyed, dapple-skinned boy in the sailor suit who liked large fries and just wanted a safe life to call his own, who was dropped into the middle of something he was doing his best to understand. Being with Yasuho was easy, because she expected nothing from him except his friendship. That was not a problem. He was more than willing to share his time with a kindhearted girl with a surprisingly deep well of determination within her heart. She took his hand in hers, and the gentle action formed a lump in his throat every time she did. He had no family, and hers was broken—if a kind woman’s life didn’t hang in the balance of their actions, if Josuke hadn’t been born with a mystery to solve, then maybe they could forge a new life together, somehow, somewhere.

Yasuho called Josuke “innocent,” and Joshuu called him “ignorant,” with a sneer in his voice that was amplified by the one on his face. Yasuho told him that the words were similar, but not the same—she always meant “innocent” as a compliment, because although Josuke had a lot to learn about the world, she admired his good judgment and his quick thinking, learning fast and making the right decisions. Joshuu, she thought, was trying to say that Josuke was willfully naïve, maybe even maliciously so—but Joshuu’s judgment was clouded with selfish, entitled thoughts, and she would much rather spend time with a boy who saw the world clearly, saw it as something fresh and new with no colored lenses. Well, to Josuke, a lot of the time the world looked pretty rosy.

“Josuke~!” He perked up at the sound of his name, called by a beloved voice. He started to turn away from the river, but he was distracted for a moment by a clear reflection of what looked like a man lifting a smaller man into the air, embracing him warmly—an enemy Stand?! But Stands cause definite pressure in the atmosphere, and Josuke felt nothing out of the ordinary. He turned back to see Yasuho jogging towards him with two big shopping bags, one from a department store and one from the local hamburger joint. He knew what was in that bag.

“What were you looking at?” she asked when she got close enough to peer over the bridge. “Any ducks in the river right now?”

“No, I saw a weird reflection, like two people hugging. Do you see it?” But when Josuke peeked back over the bridge, the water reflected nothing but the cloudy sky above.

“Huh,” said Yasuho. “Oh, by the way, what are you wearing under that jacket? I mean, I’m glad to see you in a jacket, but—” She reached out and tugged the zipper on the coat down, and Josuke yelped, slamming his hands to his midsection to cover it. Yasuho gasped. “That’s what I thought! Josuke, Merry Christmas. Put this on.” She reached into the department store bag and pulled out a royal blue sweater. Josuke shrugged into it quickly, and then Yasuho followed it with a matching set of emerald green gloves, earmuffs, and a scarf. Soon, Josuke was bundled up against the cold, and that familiar lump had formed in his throat. Yasuho screamed as Josuke scooped her up and twirled her around like the couple he thought he saw, and she kissed him through the scarf where his mouth was hiding, and Josuke let the tears spill, because Yasuho wouldn’t tease him for crying, either, no matter what.

#jjba-secret-santa-2018 #rember-redink #yasugap #josuke/koichi #jojo's bizarre adventure

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