Chapter Text
After 50 days of duress that barely leaves him able to cope with the return to normal, Noriaki clings tightly to the new, unexpected friendship garnered along the way. It’s exceedingly difficult to adapt back to the way things were before. To the peaceful civility, without danger breathing down his neck at every moment during the milliseconds of darkness behind each blink.
So Noriaki clings onto Jotaro in his desperate grab for normalcy, but having a friend has never been a normal thing for him either. The transition from crusader to regular schoolmates and friends is a strange one, and both boys find themselves neck and neck almost daily, unwittingly or otherwise.
And maybe, he thinks, that Jotaro's likewise trying to cope with the banality of regular days. But given that the other boy is the paragon of repression, Noriaki figures he will never truly know.
They eventually fall into a routine together, of classes before Noriaki accompanies Jotaro home where they complete homework and study for a few hours. And when academics are completed and the pages of their heavy books finally snap shut, they both find themselves itching for an outlet from the high alert energy that plagues them post-crusade, still too acclimatized to danger to rest easy with peace.
The Kujo estate is spacious, a grand courtyard bearing enough open space for both boys to use as sparring grounds to waste away the excess energy most of the time. It's a good distraction; one which certainly keeps both ex-crusaders in shape, retaining their stand power at their top function while helping to relieve the itch.
But on a particularly rainy afternoon, neither boys feel inclined to step out into the downpour; still high strung with the buzzing need to do away with themselves, but unwilling to do so with the unfavorable weather.
Instead, it comes as a bit of a surprise when Jotaro suddenly asks:
"You want to watch porn?"
Noriaki barely knows how to respond and his cheeks immediately flush red. He looks to the other boy for a crooked smile, a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes; anything to confirm his suspicion that he's simply messing with Noriaki. But there’s nothing there -- the cerulean eyes that meet his own are absent of mischief.
When he finally manages to string his mouth into tangible words, he redirects the question instead:
"You have porn?"
Finally, Jotaro cracks a smile as if he's delighted to be able to share the good stuff. Behind several layers of notebooks in a drawer under his desk, he pulls out a VHS with a blank, white sleeve. Noriaki remains silent as he watches the other boy slip the tape into the player. Realizing that Noriaki hasn't moved, Jotaro beckons him to sit next to him at the foot of his bed in front of the TV. Without wanting to seem foolish, Noriaki follows, sitting in front of the screen with a box of tissues separating the distance between himself and the other boy.
It's not as if he's never seen a naked woman before, but it's always been static images in magazines that he has stumbled across. Never in the format of a video. It's not as if he would have anywhere to hide tapes in his room either, as his parents routinely invade his private belongings without his consent. So to see a naked woman in motion, legs spread as a man rocks into her has his skin heating up despite the censoring of explicit genitalia and all.
A particularly high pitched squeal from the woman has Noriaki curling his toes inside his socks. It's impossible to not get aroused, so unused to seeing such an open display of nudity and sex. But what exactly is Jotaro's game plan here? Is this a new form of torture, to see how easy it would be to rile up the redhead? To make fun of him?
"So?" He hears Jotaro say. "What do you think?"
Noriaki immediately tears his eyes from the screen to turn back and meet Jotaro's. His mouth is dry and he wets his lips before speaking. "Where did you get this?"
The other boy shoots him a lazy shrug. "I bought it."
And just like that, Noriaki could picture it all. Jotaro casually walking into a video store, picking up porn tapes without a single iota of decency. It's not as if anyone would be dumb enough to give him grief about it either given his ominous, towering stature. He’s suddenly struck with awe, fascinated by how easily he can do something like that without any care for social repercussions.
It's just simply beneath him to care.
With a blistering rigidity, Noriaki turns his eyes back to the screen just as the woman is flipped onto her stomach. The male impaling her is no Casanova, but he's got a nice round ass and it’s still exciting to see the thrusting hips in tune with her girlish moans. His attention is broken again when he hears the metal click of a buckle being undone, the fabric strap coming loose. A second belt is loosened, followed by the click of metal teeth as a zipper is pulled down. Noriaki turns to see Jotaro roughly palming his hardened cock through his boxers.
“S-seriously?!” Noriaki snaps, indignation growing in his voice as he looks away. “You’re going to just… Just do that here, while I’m in the room?”
“What?”
“That’s so indecent, Jotaro! That’s…!”
“We’re friends, aren’t we?" A lackadaisical grin slips onto Jotaro’s lips as he pulls out the head of his cock from his waistband. "It's not gay. We’re just hanging out." He chuckles and points to the obvious tenting at Noriaki's hip. "And you’re looking a bit pent up yourself, too.”
Noriaki immediately covers his crotch with his hands.
“I-I…”
A moment passes, and when Noriaki makes no movement to relieve the pressure in his pants, he sees Jotaro shrug at the corner of his eye. “Suit yourself, then.”
As if Noriaki weren’t in the room at all, Jotaro fully reveals himself, pushing his pants and boxers to bunch up at his knees before sitting back onto the bed. Noriaki tries not to watch as Jotaro strokes himself, his well-proportioned cock sliding in and out of his clenched fist in time to the thrusting of hips on screen. It feels too strange to be a spectator while the other male simply sits next to him, carelessly pleasuring himself in his presence.
Is this considered ‘normal’ between friends?
… But they've spent 50 days together, sharing each other's company throughout every life-threatening situation possible. Sharing everything from food to bedding, to all the small gifted moments of reprieve under the moon and stars.
What's a little more going to hurt?
Noriaki bites on his lower lip, finally throwing caution to the wind with a whispered: “fuck it.”
And at that point, what would be weirder? Watching his first porn movie and not masturbating while his best friend jerks it next to him, or just admitting that he's a hot-blooded male with all the typical male urges, acting on his instinct rather than squandering this opportunity?
He then follows suit, undoing the buttons on his pants to reveal his straining cock too. With his eyes glued to the screen, he begins working his length, already soaked with precum in his failed attempt at decency. The sight before him is impacifiably erotic with pert, bouncing breasts, and milky white skin. Tension winds in his core as pleasure percolates through his body, but he withholds himself from the full pleasure just yet.
He doesn't want to be the first to cum. His complete lack of endurance is embarrassing, so he slows down. Just enough to keep his arousal sustained on the precipice, but not enough to completely spill over. And maybe if he times it correctly, he can last just as long as Jotaro, though he dares not to glance over lest it becomes weirder than it already feels.
However, it soon becomes apparent that while the feminine moans are delicious, he finds himself distracted by the heavy, guttural breathing from the boy at his side. Something about the dark moans has him coaxing more and more from his cock while Jotaro does the same. Jotaro's breathing slowly reaches an erratic crescendo; his free hand quickly crushing over the box of tissues to catch his release just in time. A fractured moan shakes his chest and throat, doing more for Noriaki than anything on screen as Noriaki unwittingly follows. He barely catches everything in his hand as he climaxes just shortly after, too dazed to do the sensible thing which would be to use a tissue.
They both lay back on the bed, breathing heavily and blissfully spent as their hearts pound in their ears. A minute passes in silence as their breathing returns to normal, cocks softened against their sweaty thighs.
Jotaro is the one to break the silence first, glancing at Noriaki and chuckling when he sees his clenched fist with tepid semen leaking out from between the fingers.
"Idiot. Use a tissue next time."
"Right," Noriaki nearly stammers, accepting a tissue from Jotaro's outstretched hand. He quietly cleans his fist while the other boy tucks his spent member back into his pants and turns off the TV. Despite the post-orgasmic after-glow, Noriaki finds himself rooted to the spot with a newfound horror blossoming in his gut. Of certain realizations to his person that has him feeling incongruous as more and more questions about himself spring forth.
It’s something he never quite recovers from.
… Next time?