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運命の赤い糸 | unmei no akai ito

Chapter Text

Jotaro pressed himself up against the wall of the small flower shop beside the jewelry shop, his blue eyes scanning the surrounding street for any potential danger.

“The coast is clear, let’s go.” He muttered, glancing over at his partner, Wes Bluemarine.

“I’ll cover you from behind,” Wes replied, motioning for Jotaro to go ahead.

Jotaro narrowed his eyes but said nothing, simply clicking his tongue and continuing forward, his right hand resting against the weapon on his belt. When the two of them were right beside the open door of the jewelry store, Jotaro quickly stepped into the doorway, drawing his gun in one swift motion.

“Miami Police Department, drop your weapon!” Jotaro shouted.

Wes quickly took position beside him, his gun drawn as well. The whole store had been ransacked, and shards of glass covered the floor. The woman behind the checkout counter was white-faced with her back against the wall as she wept soundlessly. Standing next to her was a man, holding a gun pressed against her temple.

The two were told beforehand that this could potentially escalate to a hostage situation, so they were thankful that there was a SWAT team on standby, as well as an ambulance.

The man who was holding the gun to the woman’s head smiled. “You know, mister, you and your little friend should really think before you decide to shoot me,” he laughed. “Let’s make a little deal. You lower your weapons, and I let this lovely lady live. How ‘bout it?” The man mused.

“That’s all you want?” Jotaro asked.

“Yeah. Just put the gun down, and I’ll let her go, I promise,” the man grinned widely.

“Alright, but you have to keep your promise, okay?” Jotaro told him. “Let’s try and keep this as peaceful as possible so that nobody ends up getting hurt.”

The man nodded, and Jotaro took the risk of lowering his gun, putting it back in the holster at his side.

Wes seemed extremely reluctant, but he did the same, hoping that this wouldn’t end with one or both of them critically injured or dead.

The man stared at the two of them for a minute before setting his gun down and pushing the woman away from him and into a glass jewelry case. The woman managed to scramble away from it before it fell, sending glass shards and jewelry sliding across the floor. The woman made a beeline for the door, running out into the street sobbing. She collapsed onto the road in a heap, crying loudly.

“Thanks for keeping your promise. See how easy that was? Nobody had to get hurt. I’m glad I can trust you to keep your promises,” Jotaro smiled at him.

The man smiled back, but in a split second, before Jotaro could realize what was happening, the man had drawn his gun and was aiming from behind the checkout counter.

“Hey, let’s keep this p—“

Jotaro was cut off by the sound of gunshot and a searing white pain in his lower leg. Unable to keep his balance, he unceremoniously fell backwards onto the glass-covered floor, blood running down his leg and shoe and onto the floor. The sound of the gunshot had scared the woman who’d been being held hostage, and she ran away from the building still crying, taking to hiding in a nearby coffee shop.

“What the fuck?!” Wes shouted, his brown eyes wide. He glanced down at Jotaro, who still had that determined, stoic look on his face. He assumed that all the adrenaline that was flowing through both their veins right now was preventing his partner from feeling too much pain.

“Now that your best friend is down, I can have whatever I want! Unless you want me to shoot him in the head, that is,” the robber laughed manically, waving the gun around in the air.

“What is it you want?” Wes asked, raising his hands up in surrender. “I can help you get it, just leave Jo—Officer Kujo alone,” he told the man.

“Fair enough,” the man shrugged, smiling. “First off, I want all the money from the jewelry I stole. All this has gotta be at least 1 million dollars, wouldn’t you say?” The man laughed.

“Probably. What would you buy with 1 million dollars?” Wes questioned, trying to dodge the robber’s request.

The man paused, his smile dropping. “What’s it to you?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Just curious.” Wes lied, doing his best to sound calm. Inside, though, he was boiling with rage.

The man paused for a moment before continuing. “I want a car out of here by 10, or I shoot your little partner in the head,” the man cackled.

“Okay, but you have to do me a favor. Let me radio that we need to get a car out here to pick you up, and let me get you an ambulance. It looks like you have some injuries on your hands from the glass.” Wes explained, trying to keep the man from going berserk and firing any more shots.

The man thought about it for a second, tapping a finger against his chin. “As long as I don’t go to jail,” the man added.

Wes knew this guy was gonna get arrested. Armed robbery was a felony, no doubt about it. Not to mention the additional charges of taking someone hostage, as well as firing on an officer.

“I’ll see what I can do for you in court, okay? I’ll make sure you get a good lawyer.”

“Alright. Radio in that car for me, unless you want me to kill him.” The man pointed his gun at Jotaro, who was clutching at his leg. Blood was covering his hands, pant leg, part of his shoe, and some of the glass on the floor.

“I need a squad car on location stat, as well as an ambulance. We have two, possibly three injured. One with a non-fatal shot to the foot, and another with lacerations on both hands. The status of the third is unknown, but she appears unharmed.” Wes spoke into his police radio, making sure to speak loudly and clearly so the man could hear what he was saying as to not seem suspicious and aggravate him further.

“When the car gets here, I want them to escort me to the nearest pawn shop so I can sell this shit,” the man demanded.

“You want to go to a pawn shop? I’ll see what I can do about that,” Wes nodded.

Now all he had to do was stall a bit to buy enough time for the ambulance and car to arrive, which would probably only be about 10 or 15 minutes based on how close they were to the station.

“That car better be here by 10, or I’m gonna blow a hole in his head. Believe me, that guy will never see the light of day again if I don’t get that car,” the man warned.

“They’re going to get here as fast as possible, and we can work things out from there,” Wes told him.

The man glanced up at the wall clock and smirked. “It’s 9:45. I wonder if they’ll get here in time to save your friend?” He crowed, looking over at Jotaro, who, by some miracle, was still conscious, albeit bleeding all over the floor.

Jotaro could feel the blood rushing in his ears, and his heart was pounding. The pain hadn’t yet set in due to adrenaline, but he knew it would as soon as things started calming down. In his 7 years on the force, he’d somehow managed to avoid being shot.

Until now, that is.

It felt like a lifetime before the ambulance and squad car finally arrived. The man who’d attempted to rob the store got his hands treated on-site by one of the paramedics before he was taken away to the station. The woman who’d been taken hostage was treated for shock and any injuries, and was also escorted to the station for questioning, since she was the only witness to the robbery, and the police needed all the details.

As Jotaro was being put onto the ambulance, Wes rushed over to his side, his brown eyes filled with concern. He was only able to linger for a few moments by Jotaro’s side before he was summoned back to the station to be questioned about the incident.

The ambulance ride was bumpy, and as the adrenaline started wearing off, the pain set in. Even though he was being given a strong medication for the pain, the pain was still pretty bad.

Halfway through the ride, his vision started blurring, and he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick, but not before he passed out from blood loss.

When he finally awoke, the pain in his leg had decreased a bit, but his head was pounding, and he felt extremely groggy. On the table a few feet away was all his police gear, including his uniform. The hole in his pant leg from the bullet was gone, as was the massive blood stain, so he assumed someone must’ve gotten it fixed for him whilst he was out.

He wondered how long that had been.

As if to answer his question, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Jotaro mumbled. His voice was quiet and hoarse, and his throat felt sore.

The door creaked open, and, much to Jotaro’s surprise, in stepped his wife.

His breath nearly caught in his throat when he saw her, and a wave of agonizing guilt overcame him.

“Dearest!” His wife chirped, rushing over to her husband’s bedside. “How are you feeling? Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay!” She cried, placing a hand on his face and gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

The guilt in his chest was searing, writhing. It felt like he was suffocating. The heat of his wife’s hand felt like it was burning his face.

“Tired,” Jotaro murmured, placing his hand atop his wife’s, trying to push it off.

“How’s your leg?” She asked, looking down at the bed, where his injured leg was covered by the blanket.

“It hurts.” He replied, the diamond on his wife’s ring hurting his eyes, making him squint.

Jotaro was thankful that his job kept him busy, and that he was rarely ever home. It wasn’t that he hated his wife, it was simply that seeing her filled him with guilt. His marriage felt like a prison.

His head was already spinning, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Maybe it was just a side effect from the anaesthesia, but it didn’t start happening until his wife entered the room.

There was another knock at the door, and Jotaro could feel the blood racing in his veins.

“I wonder who that is?” His wife questioned, tapping a finger against her chin.

The door opened, and Jotaro almost passed out again.

It was Wes.

He was wearing civilian clothes, so he looked extremely handsome.

“W-Wes?” Jotaro choked, the name catching in his throat. Having his wife and his partner in the same room was making his heart pound, and not in a good way.

“Hey,” Wes smiled. That smile made Jotaro’s heart race. “How are you feeling?” He asked softly, placing a plastic shopping bag on the table beside Jotaro’s bed.

All he could do was nod in response. “W-What’s that?” Jotaro asked, lifting up his arm and pointing towards the bag.

“Oh...um...I brought you some food. I know how shitty hospital food tastes,” he laughed a little, opening the bag. Inside was a container of soba, takoyaki, and cut melon. Beside it was a bouquet of flowers, the expensive kind that you buy at a flower shop.

Jotaro could feel his cheeks heating up slightly, and he glanced nervously over at his wife.

“You’re so nice, Officer Bluemarine! How’d you know just what my husband likes?” She questioned, smiling warmly. “And flowers! You’re such a nice guy!”

Wes could feel the sweat collecting under his collar. “Well, we’re partners, and he’s like my best friend, so of course I know what he likes,” he lied. “Also, you can just call me Wes.”

“Okay!~” Mrs. Kujo beamed.

Jotaro just wanted his wife to leave. He felt terrible for thinking that way, but he wanted to be alone with Wes.

“If you wouldn’t mind...could Wes and I have a moment alone? We have to discuss something for work.” Jotaro lied to his wife, shooting a sidelong glance at Wes, who was obviously put off by the discomfort of being around Jotaro’s wife.

“Oh, of course! I’m going to head home, then!” Mrs. Kujo sang, standing up from the chair and exiting the room.

Jotaro and Wes waited a moment before the clicking of her high heels down the hall faded completely.

Wes took a seat at the edge of Jotaro’s bed, sighing as he sat down. “Do you think she knows?” He asked.

“No.”

Jotaro was positive that she didn’t.

“Are you hungry?” Wes asked. “You probably haven’t eaten since the surgery, hm?”

“I’m not hungry,” Jotaro muttered. His stomach just felt sick. Maybe he’d eat later or something, but knowing Wes, he’d probably want to see him eat before he left.

“I am,” Wes smirked, sitting up and straddling Jotaro’s waist with his legs, making sure not to get close to his partner’s injured leg.

Jotaro could feel his cheeks heating up, a soft blush dusting his face. He couldn’t say anything; his voice felt like it had completely disappeared.

Wes leaned forward, brushing his lips against the crook of Jotaro’s neck, causing a tingle to run down his spine. He paused for a moment, pushing down the shoulder of his partner’s hospital gown to examine the star-shaped birthmark on his trapezius. According to Jotaro, it was a hereditary thing that was passed down from his great-great-grandfather Jonathan Joestar. His grandson, Joseph, also had the mark, as did Joseph’s daughter Holly, Jotaro’s mother, as well as Jotaro’s daughter, Jolyne. Wes found it extremely interesting, and enjoyed tracing his fingers over the perfect star shape.

Slowly, Wes began lightly kissing Jotaro’s neck, smirking as he felt his partner’s breath hitch. “You smell really nice, Jojo,” Wes breathed.

Jotaro shuddered as he felt Wes’ warm breath against his neck. His free right hand, which didn’t have the IV in it slid up Wes’ shoulder and neck to the back of his head. Jotaro ran his fingers through the other’s curly black hair, encouraging Wes to continue.

“I’m wearing that cologne you bought me,” Jotaro mumbled, surprised that the smell was still clinging to him after everything that had happened.

“Good. It smells really nice on you,” Wes chuckled, moving up towards Jotaro’s jawline, kissing backwards towards his ear. Jotaro gasped lightly as he felt his partner nibble slightly on his earlobe. It suddenly dawned on him that he wasn’t wearing his earrings. Usually, he just wore gold stud earrings as a fashion statement, but he assumed that the nurses must’ve taken them out when they took off his uniform.

“You’re so tense, Jojo. Relax a little,” Wes whispered into his ear.

He could feel himself starting to get a bit hard, and a bulge was starting to form in his pants. Having his crotch pressed up against Jotaro’s didn’t help. His heart was racing, and his face felt insanely hot. He could only imagine how much he was probably blushing right about now.

Wes moved back down, towards his throat. He got back to sensually kissing his partner’s neck again, moving down towards his chest. He paused at Jotaro’s collarbones, making sure to pay extra attention to them.

“Wes, stop. You might leave a mark,” Jotaro whined. He didn’t want his wife to find out he was cheating. Even if he could easily say it was just an injury he got on the job, having a mark in such a place seemed suspicious.

“C’mon, Jojo. You can just put some concealer on it,” Wes teased. Regardless, he did pull away, but only a few inches. His breath was still hot against Jotaro’s collarbones, making him squirm a bit.

“I don’t wanna take that risk,” Jotaro sighed.

“Do you really still have sex with your wife?” Wes questioned.

Jotaro felt his face burning with shame.

That was a really personal question, and the answer filled him with guilt.

“Rarely. I’d say maybe once a month or so,” he said quietly, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper.

“Once a month? Are you shitting me?” Wes exclaimed, his brown eyes wide.

“No. Our marriage is fucking awful. My wife forced me to go to marriage counseling with her in hopes that things would change, but they didn’t,” Jotaro explained.

“So why do you continue to stay with her?” Wes questioned. He had no idea why Jotaro would stay with someone he didn’t even love. It would be much more convenient for the two of them if he divorced his wife.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of Jolyne or something,” Jotaro mused. He honestly wasn’t sure. He had no attachment to his wife, but he didn’t want to just leave her. It was probably because of Jolyne. He at least wanted to wait until she was four or five to leave his wife. That way, she could still raise Jolyne, but she wouldn’t understand the concept of divorce. It would be easy enough for his wife to simply say that Jotaro was killed on the job. He was a cop, after all, and his job was quite dangerous.

“You should divorce her, that way we can be together,” Wes remarked smugly.

Pulling away from Jotaro, he reached down and began unbuckling his belt.

Jotaro cleared his throat loudly, his cheeks flushed. He looked irritated, and his blue eyes were glazed with tiredness. “What are you doing?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be fun, fucking in a hospital?” Wes asked teasingly.

Jotaro huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you go masturbate or something instead,” he muttered. All this talk about his wife made him feel even more depressed than usual, and he was still exhausted from the surgery he’d had to remove the bullet and repair the damaged tissue in his leg.

“Seriously? You’re no fun,” Wes complained, climbing off the bed and heading for the bathroom, already unzipping his pants.

Jotaro used his arms to push himself up, sitting up in the bed. His back hurt, and he took a moment to stretch his muscles. He was used to constant physical activity, so sitting around a lot made his muscles get tense. Still, he had a feeling he’d be in the hospital for a while. The next time he saw a nurse, he’d ask about it.

For the next week, Jotaro stayed in the hospital, just so his doctors could make sure his recovery was going smoothly. Most of his time was spent sleeping and hanging out with Wes, who came to visit him every day. He wasn’t happy about not being able to work, but thankfully, none of his bones or major nerves were damaged by the gunshot. The doctors called it a miracle, but Jotaro knew he’d simply gotten lucky. The robber was behind the checkout counter, so his aim wasn’t nearly as good as it would have been. Jotaro was also standing at an angle with a lot of jewelry cases around him. There was an artery in his leg that was damaged, which explained the huge amount of blood.

Thankfully, Jotaro was extremely healthy. He did smoke, but not much. He was also only 33, still young.

The doctor said that he’d probably be able to go back after a month or so, but Jotaro would go back as soon as possible.

He would rather be anywhere than at home. It was tragic, but being around his wife made him too guilty to bear.

Jotaro knew that the amount of time he spent at work would only increase from this point on.

He knew what his marriage was heading towards; it was inevitable.

Still, he wanted to ignore it for as long as possible.

Chapter Text

Jotaro had made a quicker recovery than anticipated, and his leg had healed nicely, leaving nothing more than an entry hole scar.

Today was his first day back on the job.

Jotaro got ready quickly, rushing out of the house without even eating breakfast. He gave his wife a quick peck goodbye, grabbing his keys off the coffee table and getting into the car. He figured he’d stop by a local café he liked and get breakfast there instead.

After eating breakfast and having his morning coffee as well as a smoke, he was on his way to the police station.

His heart was pounding in anticipation to see Wes. Being trapped at home for an entire three weeks was hell. Sure, Wes came to visit, but it wasn’t the same. They had to keep their relationship strictly platonic in front of Mrs. Kujo.

But now, Jotaro was craving the taste of Wes’ lips again. He hadn’t kissed him since he was discharged from the hospital, and he was becoming desperate.

Upon opening the station door, a chorus of familiar voices greeted him warmly. Jotaro laughed awkwardly and thanked his fellow squad mates, briskly walking towards his office.

Sitting atop his desk, reading a newspaper, was Wes.

“Jotaro,” he smiled warmly, climbing down from the desk and wrapping an arm around the other’s waist.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Wes told him, resting his head against Jotaro’s shoulder.

“Kiss me,” Jotaro demanded, eager to taste him again.

“So demanding,” Wes teased, standing up on his toes to be able to reach. Jotaro was abnormally tall, but that was what made him charming and sexy.

Wes leaned in, cupping his partner’s face with his free hand, pulling him close as their lips met again for the first time in ages. Instinctually, Jotaro reached behind him, blindly fumbling for the lock on the door.

This was one of those times that he was glad that the lock on his door was the kind that you just have to push in.

The two of them kissed passionately, Wes’ hand on Jotaro’s cheek. Jotaro could feel his blood rushing in his veins, and one of his free hands slid down Wes’ back, resting on the arch of his back, right above his utility belt.

As the kiss deepened, Jotaro felt himself shudder. He parted his lips a bit, hopefully enough for Wes to get the memo.

Thankfully, the two of them had done this so much that it had simply become second nature. Wes slowly but confidently slid his tongue into Jotaro’s mouth, teasing him by lightly brushing his tongue against his partner’s.

Jotaro felt an electric tingle run down his spine, and he pushed his tongue down, letting the other assert his dominance.

He never did anything like this with his wife. Their only kisses were quick, dry, and on the lips. There was no passion; no love.

Wes reluctantly pulled his tongue out of Jotaro’s mouth, disconnecting their lips so he could take a moment to breathe. He gazed into his partner’s ocean blue eyes, gently stroking his cheek with his thumb.

Their tender moment was ruined by the tent that had formed in Wes’ pants. Jotaro looked down at him, noticing his obvious bulge.

His blue eyes shifted back up to his partner’s face, his body perfectly still. Wes smiled sheepishly, his face heating up.

Jotaro took a step forward, pressing his crotch up against Wes’.

“Want me to help you take care of that?” He breathed into his partner’s ear.

Wes shuddered, nodding slowly. He hesitantly took a seat in Jotaro’s desk chair a few feet away, already fumbling with his utility belt.

Some carnal lust was being stirred up in Jotaro’s stomach. He walked up to the chair where Wes sat, getting down on his knees in front of him. Wes was already eagerly unzipping his pants, his hands shaking with burning anticipation. “I’m not gonna take off my pants, so be careful,” he warned.

“I know,” Jotaro nodded, resting his chin atop Wes’ knees.

They’d done this a hundred times, but it still made Jotaro feel excited every time.

And every time, he was still left breathless when he saw his partner’s cock. Wes had been blessed with the gift of being well-endowed, and Jotaro had been blessed with the gift of having had enough practice that his gag reflex was basically non-existant.

Wes was already partially hard, so Jotaro had plenty to work with. Taking a deep breath, he put one hand around Wes’ cock, the cold metal of his wedding ring a grim reminder of reality against the hotness of his partner’s skin.

Slowly, Jotaro ran his tongue up the underside of Wes’ shaft. He could feel the other shudder as he did so, which filled Jotaro with an eager, fervid desire. He decided to tease his partner a bit before actually putting him in his mouth.

Sliding his hand slowly up Wes’ dick, he began rubbing his thumb against the other’s slit, earning a quiet moan from Wes, who was biting his bottom lip to try and keep his volume down. The thin walks of Jotaro’s office were by no means soundproof, so they had to be quiet.

Pulling his thumb away quick enough to leave the other craving more, he slid his hand back down, the friction making Wes let out a quiet whine. As Jotaro slowly jacked him off, he began licking the tip of Wes’ cock, causing him to slap his left hand over his mouth to keep quiet. Jotaro’s whole body felt hot, and his cheeks were burning. His stomach was twisted with guilt, but he’d been deprived of decent sex for so long that he didn’t even care anymore.

Jotaro’s hand slowed to a halt at the base of Wes’ dick, swirling his tongue around the head. Wes moaned, arching his back.

He’d decided he teased Wes enough. They had to hurry up if they didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

Keeping his hand in place, he pushed Wes’ cock into his mouth, feeling an electric tingle run down his spine. Wes placed his hand on the back of Jotaro’s head, pushing his dick deeper into his partner’s mouth. He let out a soft whine, enjoying the feeling of Jotaro’s warm mouth.

Jotaro eagerly licked Wes’ slit, tasting his pre-cum on his tongue. He could feel Wes pushing his head, sliding his dick further back into Jotaro’s mouth.

“Y-You okay?” Wes questioned, his breath heavy.

Jotaro nodded, obviously not able to speak given the current situation. He was getting desperate, and it was almost time for their shift to start.

He picked up the pace a bit, sliding his partner’s cock further down into his throat and making sure to provide some extra stimulation using his hand.

“J-Jojo...” Wes mewled, desperately grinding against Jotaro’s hand and mouth. “I’m gonna cum,” he moaned loudly.

Jotaro moved his free hand to Wes’ knee, holding up one finger. “You want me to wait?” Wes asked. Jotaro nodded, pulling his head back, bringing the tip into his mouth. He made sure to swirl his tongue around it, hitting all the sensitive nerve endings in his partner’s cock.

“Jotaro, I can’t—!” Wes whined, bucking his hips eagerly. He stammered out a string of ‘fuck’s as he came in his partner’s mouth, his dick twitching from the pure ecstasy.

This was the moment that Jotaro lived for. That carnal part of him was so gratified. The blood in his veins was racing, and his heart was pounding. He swallowed his partner’s cum willingly, a bit of it dribbling from his lips and down his chin.

“You look so cute like that,” Wes breathed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Jotaro simply nodded in silent acknowledgement of Wes’ comment, wiping off his mouth and chin with his hand.

“We should get going,” Jotaro said flatly, his voice slightly hoarse.

“You’re right,” Wes agreed, standing up from the chair and stretching a bit.

For the first few weeks he was back, Jotaro mostly just did paperwork and took on small cases, as was directed by the police chief.

However, those kinds of things quickly bored him, and he was assigned to a home invasion case on his fifth week back. It was in downtown Miami, at an apartment complex full of mostly college kids.

When he parked his patrol car outside the building, he felt his blood run cold.

It was the same apartment building that he’d lived in during his time at college.

Trying to shake off his discomfort, he reassured himself that it was merely a coincidence. After all, he hadn’t lived in this place for years. The robbery was probably just committed by some drunk college kid with too much time and weed on his hands.

Yet he still couldn’t shake off the death threats that he’d gotten from a violent, bitter ex who he regretted ever sleeping with. When Jotaro’s feelings for him faded, he wanted to break up without any hard feelings. After all, Jotaro was going through a lot in college. He was far away from the only person who’d ever loved him, his mother, depressed, and confused about his sexuality. He didn’t want to commit to a relationship at that time, as he was too emotionally overwhelmed.

He’d approached his ex and told him that he wanted to break up, simply stating that his ex wasn’t the one at fault, and that Jotaro needed time alone. He’d always been a very particular kind of person, after all.

His ex, an aspiring manga artist named Rohan Kishibe, reacted violently, threatening to kill Jotaro for wanting to break up. The way that he spoke and the expression that he had in his eyes was serious. Jotaro knew that Rohan wasn’t the kind of person to joke around.

Shaking off any negative feelings he had, he and Wes exited the patrol car, heading towards the building. There was another officer already on scene standing outside the door, and Jotaro knew more would be arriving soon.

For some reason, this thought didn’t comfort him. It just made him really, really uneasy.

“Which apartment is it?” Wes asked the officer who was standing outside the door to the complex. “572,” the other officer responded.

Jotaro almost passed out right on the spot. That was the exact apartment that Jotaro had lived in after having moved out of his old complex. The reason why he moved, strangely enough, was because Rohan kept entering his house and stealing his things, and then later moved on to graffiti-ing the walls with homophobic slurs, and leaving compromising pictures that Jotaro had taken of himself when they were dating all over the place. After that incident, he moved to a complex across town. He’d given Rohan the key to his old apartment and had simply forgotten to take it back after they broke up, which explained how Rohan was able to enter the place with such ease.

“Jotaro? Are you okay?” Wes’ voice shook him from his thoughts.

“Your face just got really pale,” his partner pointed out. “Are you not feeling well? You can go back and sit in the cruiser for a minute if you want,” Wes offered.

Jotaro shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Wes shot him a sympathetic glance before heading inside, Jotaro following close behind him.

When they got to the apartment, the first thing Jotaro noticed was how the lock looked almost broken in. The two were the first to enter, and were instructed not to touch anything unless absolutely necessary, as the detectives had to come through and photograph the evidence and look for fingerprints.

Jotaro knocked on the door, and he heard footsteps shuffling behind it. A scared-looking guy, probably in his early- or mid-twenties opened the door, his eyes wide in shock.

“Hello. My name is Officer Jotaro Kujo, and this is my partner, Officer Wes Bluemarine,” Jotaro said. “If you would, could you please show us the damages and tell us exactly what happened?” He questioned.

“Sure,” the man nodded, opening the door a bit further and inviting the officers in.

Inside the apartment, photos and various other things that were on the table next to the door were scattered across the floor. In the living room, where the apartment entrance opened up to, there was black paint on the wall that read ‘オカマ’.

Jotaro’s blood felt like ice as soon as he laid eyes on it. For a split second, he squeezed his eyes shut, praying to awaken from this nightmare. When he opened them again, he was still there, in that apartment.

“What’s it say?” Wes asked.

Okama,” Jotaro started, his voice thin. “It’s...basically the Japanese equivalent of ‘faggot’,” he explained.

“Are you gay?” Jotaro questioned, turning to the man. “No. I have a girlfriend,” he said.

“Please be honest. This is a legal issue, and we need the truth,” he warned.

“I am telling the truth. I’m straight, but I support gay people or whatever,” the man shrugged.

Jotaro nodded.

“Let me show you the kitchen.” the man led the officers into the room.

‘Faggot bitch’ was scrawled across the countertop in the same black paint.

“Why would someone paint homophobic slurs if you’re not gay?” Wes asked. The man simply shrugged. “It’s possible I was mistakenly targeted. Maybe whoever broke in thought I was someone else,” the man speculated. Jotaro nodded in agreement, his stomach churning.

In the upstairs bathroom, the mirror was shattered, and everything that had been in the bathroom was strewn around haphazardly.

After examining every room in the house, the two waited for the detectives to arrive. Once they did, Jotaro quickly ushered Wes out of the apartment and down into the squad car.

As they drove back, Wes asked the question he’d been fearing.

“What happened with you back there?”

Jotaro swore he was going to be sick, but he did his best to try and keep a straight face.

“That complex is where I lived during college. I lived in that exact apartment. I think my most recent ex was responsible for that crime. I moved after we broke up, because he’d broken into my apartment before. I guess he found my information from back then somehow, and broke into that man’s apartment thinking that I still lived there,” Jotaro explained.

Wes’ face turned white.

“What?! How come you didn’t tell me that?” He asked, giving Jotaro a nervous glance.

Jotaro said nothing, simply keeping his eyes on the road as they drove.

He didn’t tell Wes because he didn’t want him to worry. The topic also never really came up, so he didn’t feel the need to talk about it.

“Why didn’t you file a restraining order?” Wes asked.

“I didn’t feel the need to. I moved, and I assumed I was safe. I never saw him again after I changed complexes, so I never felt the need to file one,” he shrugged. “Still, now that I’m on the force, he can’t really come after me, so I’m not worried.”

He wondered if anyone would find out who’d committed the crime.

Jotaro’s guilt only got worse the more he thought about it. He was almost 100% sure he knew who’d committed the crime, but he couldn’t say. Jotaro knew that it was perfectly legal for the chief to fire him if he found out he was gay. With his job on the line, he didn’t want to risk it.

It was a scary situation, but obviously Rohan must’ve realized Jotaro no longer lived there, considering how nothing bad actually happened to the man. He knew a crime was committed, but he technically wasn’t withholding any evidence, as there was no way to conclusively prove that it was Rohan.

Jotaro decided he’d just let sleeping dogs lie and let the evidence work itself out. It wasn’t like Rohan actively committed crimes or anything, he just had a huge vendetta against Jotaro for having broken up with him.

That guy had always been an entitled douche. Maybe that was why Jotaro ended things with him. Either way, the guy was an ass, and the level that he’d gone to twice now to try and get ‘revenge’ on Jotaro was creepy as hell.

All he could do was hope that Rohan didn’t figure out where he worked now. Despite his obvious advantage of working in law enforcement, Rohan was a smart guy. He could probably figure out some way to make Jotaro look bad. He was especially vulnerable, being a gay man and all. If anyone at his work found out, there was a chance that he could be fired.

It would be worse if Rohan somehow managed to find his home.

Not for Jotaro, of course. For Rohan. Being law enforcement, Jotaro kept his gun in a gun safe beside his bed. His wife knew the combination, and he’d taught her how to use it.

But Jotaro wasn’t so safe at his work. Even the full extent of the law couldn’t keep his boss from kicking him out simply for existing as himself. If Rohan somehow found out about that, he was fucked.

Still, he wasn’t positive that his boss was homophobic. But, considering the fact that he was an old white guy who’d made racist comments before, it wouldn’t be any surprise if he turned out to be.

Also, there was no conclusive way for Rohan to prove that he was gay. Jotaro was an extremely private person, who kept his personal life a secret. It would be extremely difficult to find any evidence that pointed to his ex’s claims.

However, Jotaro had forgotten one thing.

He didn’t clean up the mess he’d left behind in college.

Whether he liked remembering it or not, he’d had many one night stands. On top of all that, he’d created some questionable material of himself with several of his partners. A lot of it had gone on the internet.

Jotaro had to make money somehow, and his minimum-wage job at the café across the street didn’t pay well enough.

Of course, Jotaro had forgotten about that one small fact. It had been several years, after all. He hadn’t been with a man besides Wes ever since he left college and married his wife. It was something he’d rather forget, and simply assumed it was one of those things that had become buried in the recesses of the internet. He wasn’t that kind of person anymore anyways.

But Rohan had a way of finding Jotaro’s more recent apartment complex, even after they’d broken up. He’d never told Rohan where he lived, and he blocked his number. Granted, it had taken Rohan until now to find his complex, meaning that he probably had no idea where Jotaro worked or lived.

But for a certain green-haired manga artist, trying to break into his ex’s apartment wasn’t nearly enough.

He was going to make Jotaro’s life hell, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Chapter Text

Days and nights seemed to blend together into a feverish, unidentifiable stream as Jotaro spent an ever-increasing amount of time at the station. The thought of going home was unbearable, but the guilt of avoiding his wife and daughter was eating him alive. The nights that he spent at the station were long and often sleepless as he lie awake at night, that pressing guilt tearing him apart from the inside.

This continued for what felt like an eternity. Jotaro’s performance at work was starting to be impacted by the three or four hours of sleep he managed to get under his belt every night, but mentally he was at his breaking point. His callous attitude had become worse, and he’d started closing himself off even more than before.

Naturally, Wes picked up on this subtle change in his partner’s behavior. He was adept at noticing even small changes in the way Jotaro acted after having been in his company for so long. It was impossible for him to hide anything from Wes forever, as he’d eventually lay every inch of Jotaro’s soul bare, even if it was something he kept locked away in the black recesses of his mind.

It wasn’t that Jotaro disliked his work. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He loved his job, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. It and Wes were the only thing keeping him from thinking about his failing marriage.

The sound of the door to his office being pushed open tore him from his thoughts, and he immediately turned to see who it was, breathing a sigh of relief upon realizing it was just Wes. Recently, he’d been stressing out over the fact that his performance had decreased, resulting in an even further drop. Jotaro worried that his sergeant was going to give him an earful, especially since Jotaro was easily one of the best on the force.

“What do you want?” He asked, turning his focus back to the stack of papers on his desk.

Wes closed the door behind them, wanting to be alone with Jotaro.

“I want you to stay at my place tonight.” Wes demanded, taking a seat on the edge of Jotaro’s desk. “Did you think I wouldn’t realize how you’ve been acting lately? Something’s obviously bugging you. I’ve known you for eight years, Jojo. I can tell when something isn’t right.”

Jotaro let out a defeated sigh, leaning back in his desk chair, staring up at the white ceiling. “What about it?” He muttered, his blue eyes affixed on the tiles above them.

“I told you. You should come to my place. You’ve been working your ass off and stressing out about your marriage, right?” Wes asked, although the way he said it made it sound more like a statement than a question.

Jotaro turned his head, glancing at Wes. His dark eyebrows furrowed together under the brim of his hat, giving him an imposing yet darkly attractive look.

“Is it that obvious?” He questioned.

Wes simply nodded in response, reassuring Jotaro that a good night’s rest would probably make him feel better.

“Is your wife expecting you home. If you keep staying out like this, she’s going to start suspecting something,” Wes remarked pointedly.

“She’s not stupid. I told her that several officers left the force and so my workload increased as a result, which was my excuse for staying overnight these past few weeks. I don’t know how much longer she’ll buy that for, though,” he explained.

“It’s a solid excuse. Besides, you’ve kept our secret for six years already. If she hasn’t found out by this point, I doubt she ever will,” Wes pointed out.

“Easy for you to say. My relationship with my family is on the line. You don’t have anything to lose by being with me,” Jotaro retorted, the bitterness in his words blatantly obvious.

“That’s not true. I’m having an affair with a man I know is married, so if anyone found out, my reputation would be tarnished for good,” Wes told him.

Jotaro couldn’t say anything in response to that. He did have a point that knowingly entering a relationship with someone who was already married wouldn’t look good if they were found out.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bar, then we’ll head to my place to unwind for the night.” Wes’ lips curved upward in a smile, an expression rarely seen from the eccentric Wes Bluemarine.

“Is it a gay bar, or a regular one?” Jotaro questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Wes laughed heartily. What little sense of humor his partner had was exceptionally dry, yet he always managed to make Wes laugh.

“Regular, so I’d obviously put on your civilian clothes.”

There was a long pause as Jotaro considered his options. Obviously, staying with Wes would be much more comfortable, and maybe having a drink would help him unwind a little, but he’d feel less guilty about lying to his wife if he stayed at the office doing paperwork.

“Let’s go.” Jotaro told him, pulling open a drawer in his desk that held several pairs of civilian clothes that he kept for times like these.

Wes climbed down from the desk, exiting Jotaro’s office. He paused in the doorway, turning back around to face his partner. “Once you get changed, meet me out in the car.”

Jotaro simply nodded, already undoing the buttons on his shirt. Wes lingered in the doorway for a moment as if he were a ghost, watching Jotaro take off his shirt.

“Well?” He narrowed his eyes slightly, stopping at the third button down.

“Right. Sorry. You were distracting me,” Wes teased, closing the door behind him as he exited.

After Jotaro had changed into something that looked halfway normal, he exited the station, locking his office door behind him as he always did.

The fall air outside was cool and crisp, and it carried with it the sharp scent of winter, which lingered just around the corner like a cat stalking its prey. The sky had long since been dark, all but the brightest stars blocked out by the light pollution from the surrounding city. The uneven skyline jutted unnaturally up into the sky; a pale, glowing light from the many buildings the only barrier between it and the infinite heavens. Nothing but a sliver in the sky, the moon hung high above their heads, casting a weak silver light on the earth below.

Jotaro recognized the roaring of Wes’ car engine, noticing his back lights in the corner of the parking lot. Inside, his figure was dimly lit by a streetlight several hundred feet away, leaving only his silhouette visible against the stark black contrast of the rest of the sleeping world.

He opened the passenger side door of that familiar ‘63 Corvette, painted the ugliest blue Jotaro had ever seen. Still, Wes loved that car, so Jotaro couldn’t say anything bad about it. The top was down, and ‘You Make Loving Fun’ by Fleetwood Mac was playing quietly over the radio.

“You ready?” Wes asked, resting his right arm atop the door of the car. Jotaro nodded, leaning back against the leather seat.

They pulled out of the station parking lot, heading down the well-lit street towards the inner city. The cool air felt cold against his skin, causing the hair on his arms to stand up as it blew through his short black hair. Jotaro was thankful that he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt.

“You cold?” Wes asked, having to speak a bit loudly to be heard over the wind.

“No.”

Wes smirked, increasing his speed as the two cruised down the city road towards their destination. As long as he obeyed traffic laws, there was nothing wrong with going a few miles above the speed limit.

Downtown, the city was bustling with life despite it being Wednesday night. Wes parked his car in a small lot across the street from their target location: a small but popular bar that Jotaro had actually never been to. Then again, that wasn’t saying much for Jotaro, someone who rarely ever had a drink unless he was out with friends or whatnot. Considering the fact that he was on the job for almost the whole day most days, he rarely drank.

Tonight, though, he and Wes were both off-duty. It was nice to have some time to sit down and enjoy the small moments in life.

The two of them got out of the car, heading across the street towards their destination, a bar that Wes apparently frequented, oddly named Neon Mirror.

Inside the bar, things were much different than in the outside world. The bar was mostly quiet, but electronic music was playing rather loudly over the speakers in the ceiling. The two took a seat at the bar table before Jotaro spoke up.

“Are you going to drink?” He questioned.

Wes laughed. “‘Course not. Someone’s gotta be the designated driver. Besides, having a DUI on my record won’t look good as a cop,” he joked.

The bartender, a handsome young man with a slight five-o-clock shadow and black hair greeted the two, asking them for their orders. Wes refused politely but firmly, explaining that he had to drive. Jotaro, who’d never been a big drinker, had no idea what was good. He awkwardly asked his partner to simply decide for him, as he wasn’t really particular about it. This was Wes’ idea in the first place.

Meanwhile, back at the station, the police chief received a strange email from an unknown sender. The subject line simply read ‘he’s one of your own’. The address was obviously one of those ten-minute emails that was impossible to link back to anyone.

Upon opening the email, the man noticed several small lines of text written in the body of the email.

Hello, sir. My name is of little importance, and isn’t relevant to the video below. You must simply know that the video contains damning evidence of one of your officers engaging in wanton activities that a good man such as yourself would certainly not agree with.

Respectfully,

A Concerned Citizen.

Attached to the email was a video file titled with a sequence of seemingly random numbers and letters.

At first, the police chief was hesitant to open the video. He’d gotten plenty of weird emails before, but this one piqued his interest. Someone had something on one of the officers under his jurisdiction? How interesting.

He chose to watch the video, knowing that they could investigate if it turned out to be anything weird.

He clicked on the video, opening it. The first thing to appear on screen was a tan-skinned handsome young man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He was shirtless and had an unmistakable star birthmark on his left shoulder. His expression was stoic as ever as a man entered the scene on the right, the camera angle only allowing the viewer to see from the chest down.

In an unexpected turn of events, the guy who the chief assumed was Jotaro began taking off the mystery man’s shorts. He watched on in abject horror as Jotaro began giving the unknown person a handjob. Another man entered on the left, and the scene cut awkwardly to Jotaro jerking both of the men off, spreading his own legs to reveal that he too was hard. Another awkward jump cut skipped to a scene of Jotaro sucking the man on the right’s dick, still jacking off the other with his left hand. This continued for about two more minutes or so, before a final jump cut showed a scene of them both cumming on Jotaro’s face. After that, the video simply faded to black before ceasing playback altogether.

The chief stared at the screen in disbelief. The person depicted in the video was obviously Jotaro. They had the same short, black hair, tanned skin, piercing blue eyes, defined jawline, and an unmistakable star-shaped birthmark on their left shoulders. What was the chance that someone else had that exact birthmark? Unless Jotaro had a twin or something, but that seemed highly unlikely.

He’d ask the other about it first thing tomorrow morning.

After Wes and Jotaro finished their ‘date’ at the bar, the two headed back to Wes’ apartment. The complex where he lived was high-end, and Jotaro always felt out of place there no matter how many times he went.

Upon entering the familiar space, Jotaro took off his shoes and sat down on Wes’ couch.

“You hungry?” Wes asked, taking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen.

“Not really.” Jotaro replied, watching his partner retrieve a beer from the fridge.

Wes took a seat on the couch next to his partner, picking up one of the various TV guides that was on his coffee table and thumbing through it casually.

Wes had always been a strange person.

Maybe that was part of what Jotaro found alluring about him, though. Wes’ eccentricity commented Jotaro’s boringness.

“You wanna watch TV or something?” Wes questioned, not looking up from the TV guide as he spoke.

“I don’t really care,” Jotaro shrugged. As soon as the words left his mouth, his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he looked at the caller ID.

His wife.

Picking up the call, Jotaro greeted his wife cautiously.

“Honey, where are you?” The woman asked.

“Wes and I are hanging out. We have to do some things for work,” he lied.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment.

“When are you coming home? I want to see you!” The woman told him, her sadness evident in her voice.

A pang of guilt pierced Jotaro’s chest like a knife, and he swallowed thickly, apologizing to the woman and promising that he’d come home tomorrow night, claiming that he was busy with a case.

After a brisk goodbye, he hung up, setting the cell phone down on the coffee table and placing his head in his hands.

Wes was looking at him now. His lips were slightly parted, as if there was something he was thinking of saying, but the words didn’t come.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jotaro mumbled, an unusual sadness lacing his bitter words.

A tense silence filled the room for a few moments, Jotaro’s only solace being Wes’ hand, which was resting against his lower thigh.

“Do you think we should split up?” Wes asked, his brown eyes shifting back to the TV guide in his lap.

Jotaro raised his head, looking at his partner and narrowing his eyes. “No. It’s just...this is my problem, let me handle it. I don’t want you getting roped in.”

“It’s my problem too. Besides, I’m not going to just stand by and make you handle it yourself,” Wes retorted.

“I told you, let me handle it. I have everything under control, Wes.”

“It’s obvious that you don’t. It’s okay to need help sometimes.”

“I don’t need help.” Jotaro sounded bitter.

Wes sighed, shaking his head and returning to his reading. Even if Jotaro was a stubborn asshole, he was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him.

Still, it was obvious that Jotaro needed help. Wes just had to figure out a way to help him without putting him in a position where he felt vulnerable. Given how personal the situation is, Wes knew it would be difficult.

“Are you ever gonna divorce her?” Wes asked.

“Maybe,” Jotaro sighed. “I know all this could’ve been avoided had I just come out.”

Wes knew what else Jotaro wanted to say that his pride wouldn’t let him. He was scared of his family not accepting him, especially his father. His grandfather had had a short fling with Caesar before he died, but Jotaro didn’t know that.

Sadao was never there, but he was always cold and emotionally closed off. How Holly managed to fall for him was beyond Jotaro’s comprehension.

There was still a trickle of doubt in the back of his mind. A tiny piece of him wondered if he’d ended up gay because that man had no idea how to actually be a father.

He knew it wasn’t true, but some part of him deep down still questioned it.

“Does nobody know?” Wes asked.

“Only you, and my nephew Josuke, who’s also gay,” Jotaro told him.

“Your nephew? How have I known you for eight years and not know about you having a nephew?” Wes teased. Jotaro wasn’t the type of person to talk about his family much.

“I only met him once, when I was in Morioh on a case for school,” he replied.

“Oh, right. That was the Yoshikage Kira thing, wasn’t it?”

He only faintly remembered that incident. It was definitely bizarre, and it was odd tk think about the small, sleepy town of Morioh in Jotaro’s home country of Japan being haunted by a violent, brutal murderer.

Of course, Wes had never been to Morioh, but Jotaro had told him about it.

Jotaro promised that they’d go together at some point. Maybe in the future, if things changed between them. As it stood now, it would be impossible for them to go anywhere without Jotaro’s wife.

There was a lot of places that Wes wanted to go. He wanted to travel whilst he was still young, and the idea of eloping off somewhere with his partner sounded like heaven.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Jotaro muttered, breaking the silence.

“Are you sure? It’s only 8:30,” Wes glanced over at him. “Our shift doesn’t start until 6:30, remember?”

“I know. I’m just not feeling well.”

Wes simply looked at him, feeling sorry for his partner.

“Alright. I have some of your clothes in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Sleep well. If you start feeling worse, let me know. I can give you some medicine,” he smiled at Jotaro.

Upon entering Wes’ bedroom, he flipped on the light, glancing around the room. It was comfortable and familiar, nothing like his room at home.

Taking off the clothes he wore for going out, he changed into a T-shirt and shorts, climbing into Wes’ bed.

Maybe he’d drank too much, because his stomach was churning. Jotaro sighed and turned over onto his back, staring up into the darkness. The air seeping out of the vent above made his wedding ring feel impossibly cold, as if it was made of ice.

He hated wearing it, as it was a constant reminder of his guilt. It made him feel like he was going to be sick.

For the first time in a long while, Jotaro pulled off the ring, placing it on the nightstand beside him.

It felt like a weight was instantly lifted from his shoulders, and he immediately felt less nauseous.

Little did he know what kind of hell he would be facing tomorrow.

Chapter Text

“Mister Kujo, I need to speak with you.”

Those words turned his blood into ice. He’d only just arrived at the station, and the chief was already requesting to speak to him.

Something felt off. Jotaro knew that something had to be terribly wrong.

“What is it, sir?” His throat was dry, and the words barely made it past his lips as his voice shook with unease.

“In my office.”

He immediately rose to his feet, his hands visibly trembling.

Had he discovered evidence of what he and Wes had been doing?

At that moment, Jotaro Kujo wished he could die. He willed for his own death to somehow come and take him away from here. He wished to be any place in this world except the police station right now.

Upon entering the chief’s office, the man motioned for Jotaro to sit down in a chair that was positioned next to the desk. Jotaro did as he was told, glad that he was able to sit down, lest his legs fold and he ended up making a fool of himself in front of his boss.

The man pulled up a video on his computer screen, pressing the ‘play’ button.

Jotaro felt his heart drop into his stomach when he saw the opening scene. His face instantly began getting hot, and it felt like the veins in his face were going to explode.

The chief paused the video as the person on screen was talking to the camera. He turned and stared at Jotaro, who looked like he wanted to die.

There was no escape. He was completely trapped. Hopeless; helpless.

Just like in stumbling through his fatherless childhood, and his distant college years.

Maybe he’d die from the stress. God, he hoped so. There was nothing more he wished for in this moment then for whatever entity saw fit to allow him to exist to take away that life.

“Is this you?”

The chief’s voice sliced through the tense air like a knife, injecting a cold rush of fear into Jotaro’s veins.

“I—“

“Don’t lie to me, Kujo,” the man warned.

“Y-yes, it’s me.” Jotaro pulled down his hat a bit, desperate to hide his as much of his face below the brim of it as he could.

“If I may expl—“ he was cut off by the police chief clearing his throat.

“I won’t tolerate this kind of unnatural behavior amongst members of my force.”

What?

A sudden rush of anger spilled into his chest, almost sending his fists into action before his brain could stop them.

“Listen, sir. I was in college, and—“ Once again, Jotaro was cut off.

“I don’t care what you were doing. Who sent this video, do you think?” The man interrogated, his eyes narrowing.

“R-Rohan Kishibe, probably.”

“And who’s that?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against his desk chair.

“Um...m-my ex-boyfriend...from when I was in college.” Jotaro admitted, his voice quiet and fragile.

“So you’re a faggot, then?”

Something inside him nearly snapped, and it took every ounce of his being to not start yelling at this man for being so outright disrespectful. Hearing straight people say that word hit a deep nerve.

That word was soaked in the blood of friends and family who’d died for that word. For some of those people like him, that was the last thing they heard before the flame of their life was violently snuffed out.

“What did you just call me?” Jotaro’s tone was noticeably darker.

“You say you had a boyfriend, yet you’re married?” The chief asked.

Jotaro cleared his throat, his knuckles white from clenching his fists so hard. “Yes, I have a wife. I—I...I’m not gay, I was just...experimenting. We aren’t together anymore.”

That was a lie.

“Don’t lie to me, Kujo,” the chief repeated darkly, his words laced with deadly venom.

“I’m not.”

“Your tone says otherwise,” the man retorted.

Jotaro tried to defend himself, but nothing would come out. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and he wanted nothing more then to just get up and leave.

“Regardless, I won’t accept that kind of unnatural, disgusting behavior from you or anyone. I don’t know why your ex would send me this, but I’m grateful. It’s the most revolting thing I think I’ve ever seen, and I’ve worked on cases with serial killers and pedophiles.” The chief sounded irritated, and he was glaring at Jotaro, his brows furrowed angrily and his jaw clenched.

“Don’t fucking compare me to those kinds of people,” Jotaro spat.

“Speak to me like that again and I’ll have your ass arrested,” the chief threatened.

“How is th—“

He was cut off again.

“I get it, you Japs are always sexually repressed or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should turn to homosexuality. You’re no better than men who fuck children or dogs.”

That was the last goddamn straw. Not only was this guy homophobic, he was also apparently racist as all hell.

Before Jotaro could say anything, the chief glanced at the computer screen, then back at Jotaro.

“You’re fired.” His voice was cold and callous; inflectionless.

“What?! You c—“

“You’re fired, Kujo. You have one day to get your shit and get out. If I ever see you in my station again, I’ll show you how your kind came to be called ‘faggots’.”

Jotaro pushed back the chair and stormed out of the room, tears stinging his eyes from the sheer anger and stress he’d just been put under.

His boss had threatened to murder him.

Jotaro went back to his office and closed the door, locking it. Placing his head in his hands, he tried to stop the hot tears that began rolling down his face. A mess of emotions were burning inside his chest.

As he was packing his things, he heard a knock on the door, which made him instantly freeze up.

“Jotaro?”

Wes’ calm, soft voice came from behind the door, and a wave of relief flooded over him.

He placed the box he was holding down on the floor and ran over to the door, opening it.

“Are you okay?” Wes asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just got a little bit of a cold I think,” he shrugged, trying not to make Wes worry about him.

“You sure? Why are you packing up your stuff?” He questioned, glancing into his partner’s office over his shoulder.

“Just doing some cleaning. I may request to change offices soon.” Jotaro told him flatly, wishing that Wes would just leave and stop making this harder than it already was.

Wes lingered for a moment in the doorway before nodding and leaving Jotaro to his own accord again.

It seemed like his excuse worked, at least for now.

Jotaro sat down in his chair, staring out the window at the cityscape that enshrouded the station.

People were going about their days so casually when his world had just shattered around him. How could people just continue on, seemingly without a care in the world? Everything suddenly felt so different. The windowpane felt like it was cutting him off from the world, as if he were watching a movie play on a screen.

Without a job, what was he going to do? His wife stayed at home to care for Jolyne, and Jotaro was the one who had to put food on the table.

He feared that his relationship with his wife would finally collapse. He knew that he’d be living with her until he could find a new job, which might take ages.

There was no even beginning to scratch the surface of how his relationship with Wes would change.

He didn’t know anything that was going to happen, and it made him feel helpless and vulnerable, arguably the two worst feelings in the world.

As he carried the boxes of his valuables out to his car, he noticed Wes’ unmistakable Corvette was missing.

Had he gone home?

Jotaro put the boxes in his trunk and closed it, his blue eyes scanning the parking lot for the bright flash of blue that was his partner’s car. He saw nothing.

Heading back inside, he stormed into the chief’s office, slamming the door open.

“Where’s Wes?”

The chief glanced up at him, sighing. “I sent him home. I didn’t want him finding out what happened to you and dropping the force,” he explained calmly, his eyes remaining fixated on the screen of his computer.

Jotaro narrowed his eyes, backing out of the doorway and returning to his office to collect the last of his stuff.

After everything was packed up, he got into his car, simply sitting inside it, engine off.

It felt like he was still trying to process everything that had happened.

He knew that the chief was legally allowed to fire him due to his sexuality. Florida was one of many states that still allowed employers to discriminate on the basis of sexuality, which Jotaro found ludicrous.

As he drove home, radio off, he wondered how he was going to explain what happened to his wife.

The thought that he’d kept locked away in the back of his mind slipped to the forefront of his consciousness again.

Divorce.

Maybe he should just be honest. After all, a lie would only make it worse for him if the woman ended up calling the chief and asking, which she probably would. If Jotaro just told her what really happened, at least he wouldn’t be lying.

He knew she wasn’t going to take something like that well at all.

Jotaro wondered if he should tell her the entire truth.

That meant telling her about how he cheated on her with Wes.

But, for some reason, he didn’t entirely dread that. It would be a relief to finally get it off his shoulders.

When he arrived home, Jotaro stood outside the door for a few moments, staring at the suburban Miami home that he’d known for ten years.

It was all about to come crumbling down.

Unlocking the door with his free hand, he stepped inside, holding several large boxes with his left arm.

Mrs. Kujo, who was in the kitchen, immediately exited it, her eyes wide with shock.

“Honey? Why are you home so early?” She asked, wiping her hands off on the apron that she wore.

Setting the boxes down, Jotaro sighed.

“I was fired.”

The woman’s eyes somehow widened even more, and she covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to suppress her complete surprise.

“Why? You were one of the best on the force! Why would the chief fire you?” She asked, the oblivious confusion in her voice sending a pang of guilt into Jotaro’s heart.

“My ex sent him some...uh...questionable videos I’d recorded of myself in college,” Jotaro informed.

“What?” Mrs. Kujo raised an eyebrow. “Did you record porn of yourself? Either way, I don’t see why he’d fire you over something like that. Sure, it’s awkward, but he should have suspected that it was just blackmail or something.”

“That’s the problem. It was...”

Jotaro paused, taking a deep breath.

“I was having sex with a man in that video,” he explained.

Mrs. Kujo took a step back, audibly gasping.

“You...you’re gay?!” She choked out.

“Yeah,” Jotaro nodded.

“Then...me...why’d you...why did we even bother getting married?” She questioned, tears welling up in her eyes. “Or are you one of those guys who likes women too.”

“That’s the thing...I...for six years, I...Wes and I are...or...were, I guess, having an affair,” he explained.

It took her a moment to process what he’d just said, but as soon as the realization kicked in, Mrs. Kujo instantly began crying.

All Jotaro could do was stand there, watching, his unreadable expression unchanging.

“You don’t feel guilty?!” The woman sobbed, her blue eyes overflowing with sadness.

“I do.”

“Then show it, damn it!” She retorted angrily, her voice soaked in anger.

“I want to.” Jotaro’s voice was quiet.

“That was something I always hated about you. You’re always so fucking emotionally constipated. Why can’t you just be a normal person?” Mrs. Kujo hissed.

Some part of what he said hit a deep nerve, kept locked away behind the many walls of his heart and mind.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. There was nothing he could do or say to fix the situation.

“Even now, you’re just standing there with that stupid stoic expression on your face. I should’ve divorced you years ago. I was a fool for not seeing through your friendship with Wes,” the woman turned around, her back towards her husband.

“I—“ Jotaro was cut off by a sharp white pain that made his face burn. His left cheek felt hot, and he instantly raised his hand to it.

That woman had slapped him.

“Ore wa ataisuru,” he laughed bitterly.

Jotaro found himself slipping into his first language, which he only did when he was extremely emotional.

“Do you wanna divorce me, then?” His wife asked angrily.

Jotaro nodded.

“I’m taking Jolyne. You’re a horrible father. Unlike you, I actually spend time at home with our daughter. I actually know more about her than just her name and age,” the woman growled.

A single tear rolled down Jotaro’s cheek, and he couldn’t help but feel impossibly sad.

“I’m heading to the court tomorrow. I’ll get everything together tonight. Don’t get in my way,” Mrs. Kujo warned.

“Okay.”

That was all he could say.

What she said about him being a terrible father was right. That hurt more than anything. As a child, he swore he’d never be like Sadao, yet here he was. The fire that his father had started was burning him alive, and he was powerless against it.

Sadao’s emotional distantness had contributed to Jotaro’s stunted emotional growth, as well as an Autism diagnosis that he didn’t receive until he was in his 20s. A combination of his culture and the way he was raised, his race, the emotional neglect he’d faced from his father, and his inability to open up or acknowledge needing help all worked in tandem to keep him from being diagnosed until he was in college.

Jotaro now realized how terrible of a father he’d been. Still, there was no way to undo it. He couldn’t go back and change it. He couldn’t go back and make himself feel things he didn’t, or pretend to be invested in things he didn’t care about.

But he realized now that he’d had his priorities wrong.

All he could do was stare at his own face in the mirror, watching the tears run down his cheeks. Looking at that person he thought he knew, he looked a lot like his father.

They had the same short dark hair, dark eyebrows, defined cheekbones, and strong jawline.

Maybe he was more like his father than he’d realized.

His chest hurt, and he could no longer hold back his tears.

What was he going to do?

Admittedly, in his guilt, he’d even decided to part ways with Wes. He’d left a note on his partner’s desk that explained the circumstances, begging him to stay on the force. He didn’t know if he’d even contact Wes again.

He just needed time alone right now.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.

Jotaro stepped outside, not wanting to enter he and his wife’s shared bedroom, and took the call. The caller ID said that it was Wes.

Nervously, he greeted his partner, not wanting to sound like he’d just been crying.

Wes. Hey...

Hi Jojo. I just wanted to call and ask if everything is okay with you.

Uh...yeah...it’s fine. I just...am feeling a little sick, that’s all.

There was a momentary pause between what he’d just said and Wes’ response, as if the other didn’t truly believe that what Jotaro was saying was true.

You seem to be not doing so well physically. Make sure to take it easy, okay? And go to the doctor if need be.

Wes knew about Jotaro’s tendency to act like he didn’t need help even when he did. He’d asked Jotaro about it before, and had come to learn that his emotionally neglectful father had come to play a role in that tendency. Wes assumed that he was the kind of person who didn’t like asking for help because he didn’t want to be seen as weak. He knew that Jotaro had a lot of walls up, and that he was the kind of person who acted cold to keep from being hurt.

It was a miracle that Wes was even able to get close to him at all. Perhaps that was why he treasured their relationship so much. He knew that deep down, Jotaro was still that person who was desperate to be liked and admired by his father, and, in not receiving that, he became disillusioned. Unable to cope with any of the ugly feelings he had, Jotaro chose to create a nigh-impenetrable mental wall between him and others, in the hope that nobody would ever make him feel the same way his father did, and so that nobody could tell how he really felt. Nobody would ever be able to know how angry and sad he was deep down.

And he planned to keep it that way.

Okay.

If you ever need to talk, just call me. You know you can tell me anything; I won’t judge you.

Thanks, Wes.

And with that, Jotaro hung up the phone.

He felt guilty for lying to Wes, but he had much bigger things to worry about at the moment. Jotaro knew he and his wife would have to live together for a few more awkward days as they got the divorce sorted out. They’d both have to do paperwork, go to divorce court, and other uncomfortable things that would remind him of howj terrible a person he was, divorcing his wife of ten years.

He wondered if she wanted him to leave. Maybe he could rent an apartment or something.

He did set money aside for that reason, after all. He’d even started a savings account separate from his main bank account so his wife wouldn’t suspect anything. He’d been saving ever since he and Wes started having their affair, anticipating his wife finding them out just a few months after they started dating. Thankfully, she never did, but he was prepared in case.

He probably had enough to afford rent and basic amenities like food for at least a year, maybe longer if he only got things that were absolutely necessary.

Jotaro felt terrible for hiding such a large sum of money from his wife and Jolyne, but he’d promised himself that if an emergency arose, he’d dip into that money and use it for whatever. If his wife asked, he’d just say he had a bit of extra cash stored for a rainy day.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

He figured he could stay at Wes’ for a few days, but right now, he really didn’t want to see him.

It wasn’t because he’d stopped loving him.

In fact, it was the exact opposite. He loved him too much, and didn’t want to end up ruining their relationship if he said something stupid due to sadness or anger or stress.

He also didn’t want to stress Wes out with his issues. It was better that he just let things calm down first.

It was still hard for him to believe that over the course of just a few hours, any semblance of a stable life that he’d had was now in shambles. The façade that he’d spent more than a fourth of his life building was destroyed in an instant.

And it was all his fault.

Chapter Text

As he drove to the police station, Wes Bluemarine couldn’t help but be a bit worried. For some reason, Jotaro hadn’t answered his calls or texts this morning. At the time, Wes had thought nothing of it. He simply brushed it off, assuming his partner probably just had his phone off.

That was what he hoped.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible had happened. Wes always trusted his gut feeling. It had never mislead him before.

Still, he couldn’t just show up at Jotaro’s place. He was already almost at the station, and it was rude to show up unannouced, even if he really, really wanted to.

When he arrived at the station, his suspicions only rose. He knew Jotaro wasn’t working today, but his office looked...bare, as if he hadn’t spent 8 years basically living there.

Wes rubbed his eyes, praying that this was just a dream and that he’d wake up and everything would be normal again. When he opened his eyes again, Jotaro’s office was still abandoned.

Wes entered his office, closing the door behind him, pacing anxiously back and forth. Did Jotaro quit without telling him?

Out of sheer chance, Wes glanced over at his desk. Atop a stack of case paperwork he’d been working on was another piece of paper with his name written on it in red pen.

It couldn’t have been placed there by the chief, as the name on the paper said ‘Wes’, and he only ever called anyone by their last name.

The only other person it could be was another coworker, which seemed highly unlikely given the situation. If a coworker had to talk to him, they’d just come to his office, not to mention that nobody on the force called him ‘Wes’ except for Jotaro.

Picking up the sheet of folded paper, he stared at it for a moment, his hands shaking with fear and anticipation.

Unfolding the paper, angry red words glared up at him.

Wes,

You’re probably really confused right now, but I promise to explain everything.

You probably noticed that my office was empty. I was fired yesterday. Someone emailed the chief one of the videos I made in college. I’m assuming it was probably Rohan, as I don’t know who else would want to do that to me who would also know about my porn.

Naturally, I’m planning on telling my wife. I know she’ll file for a divorce, so I’m going to be busy with divorce proceedings for a bit. My wife won’t want to see you; I’ve probably told her about us as well.

Please, please don’t quit. Please stay on the force. They need you, and I know how much that job matters to you, especially considering the incident from several years ago. Don’t worry about me. I can easily get another job.

About us — I need some time alone right now. It’s not you, it’s me. I hope you can understand. Just please, for me, don’t quit the force. It’ll make me the happiest man on earth if you stay in your job. The chief will probably try and convince you to stay anyways. He really likes you.

I’m not sure when things will return to normal, but please just give me some time. I’ll contact you if or when I’m feeling better. If you want to leave me, then I won’t stop you. Feel free to see other people if that pleases you. I won’t stop you.

I’m really sorry. Believe me, it’s not you. None of this is your fault. It’s all on me.

You’re probably wondering who this is and what he’s done with your Jojo, taking the blame for something for once.

I love you. I’ll never forget you, I promise. If we end up parting ways for good, I swear you’ll always have a part of my heart. I’ll never forget you, Wes Bluemarine. I hope you can find happiness. I wish you the best of luck. I’m hoping our paths will cross again soon, but I’m a coward.

I’m going to run away from this too. I’m sorry for being such a terrible partner and friend. I hope you can find it in your heart to grant me forgiveness, but if you don’t want to, I understand completely. I’m not entitled to it.

— Jotaro

Wes could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, staining the paper. He couldn’t help but mutter a few curses under his breath as he cried softly, his deep brown eyes stinging as he tried to fight back the tears that, at that moment, seemed infinite.

An amalgam of emotions was writhing in his chest — anger, confusion, sadness, anxiety.

Why had the chief fired Jotaro over one small thing — something he’d done in college — which was years ago? Why did this have to happen? Why didn’t Jotaro want to talk to him? Why did he still want to stay on the force, despite the way the chief treated his partner? Was he going to do it at Jotaro’s request, or did some part of him still want to do it, or was it both?

Wes’ head was spinning with questions.

He took a seat down at his desk, rubbing his temples to try and get rid of the dizzy feeling he had. How could the chief fire Jotaro when he was the best officer on the entire force? Was he really that homophobic that he’d kick his best officer off the force just because he had gay sex in college?

Maybe so. That just meant he was a terrible person, and really fucking stupid.

Mrs. Kujo had already served the divorce petition to the court after Jotaro signed it. He promised his now ex-wife that he would make things as easy as possible, and would sign whatever she and the court served him.

He didn’t want to make things harder for her than they already were.

To make the divorce easier, he wasn’t going to move out yet. Instead, he opted to stay in a hotel.

Either way, he couldn’t bear to be in this house anymore. It was suffocating him, and he had to leave. He’d already began packing his things.

A knock at the door froze the blood in his veins, but since he was in his bedroom, it was his wife who first answered the door.

He heard the voice of his daughter, Jolyne. She sounded sad.

Who wouldn’t be, in her situation? Did she even fully understand what was happening? Had his wife explained that they were splitting up?

He heard the pattering of her feet stop outside of his door before several loud knocks interrupted his thoughts.

Opening the door, he looked down at the girl, guilt coiling up in his chest, constricting his lungs.

“Jolyne.”

“Daddy, is it true you and mommy are splitting up?” She asked, cocking her head slightly like a curious puppy.

Jotaro sighed, kneeling down so he could be at his daughter’s height. He placed a hand atop her head, stroking her black hair.

“Yes. Daddy did something bad, and now you and mommy are going to go live together, just the two of you,” Jotaro told her, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“What did you do?” She asked, placing her small hands on either side of his face. “Your face is prickly!” The girl laughed, rubbing her hands up and down Jotaro’s cheeks.

Jotaro gently grabbed both Jolyne’s wrists and pulled her hands off.

“I was with someone else besides your mommy. Remember Uncle Wes, from daddy’s work? The two of us were together for a while,” he explained, his voice dripping with bitter regret as he spoke.

“Together? You mean you two were kissing?! You and Uncle Wes?!” Jolyne gasped, her green eyes wide.

Jotaro felt his cheeks heating up slightly, and he averted his gaze from his daughter. Why was he so worked up about explaining his affair to a 10-year old?

“Y-Yeah.”

“Are you gay, daddy?” Jolyne asked.

“Huh? How do you know that word?” Jotaro questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“A boy in my class has two dads!” She chirped happily.

All of the uneasiness that had settled in his stomach ebbed away when she said that. It was reassuring in a strange way. He was worried that she’d heard that word being used in a negative context, and that she’d start thinking of him that way.

“I am,” he said softly.

“Then why’d you marry mommy and not Uncle Wes?” Jolyne asked.

Jotaro was almost envious of her childlike innocence. If only he could be like that again.

Even then, there was no childhood to run back to. Thinking about it tore him apart, not to mention how he’d simply repeated Sadao’s crime, forcing Jolyne into the same shitty childhood he’d suffered for 18 years.

He really was terrible, wasn’t he?

“I...can’t explain it. I’ll tell you when you’re older, okay?” He told the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Whaaaat?! I wanna know now!” Jolyne’s face contorted into an exaggerated pout.

Jotaro couldn’t help but laugh a little at her reaction.

Still, he knew she wouldn’t understand it if he explained. Even he didn’t fully understand it. How was he supposed to explain such a nuanced concept as internalized homophobia to a 10-year old?

“I told you. Wait ‘till you’re older,” Jotaro muttered, suddenly wanting to escape from this situation again. Was he even going to know Jolyne’s whereabouts when she was old enough to understand something like that? Or was his wife going to take her away from him for good?

Maybe that was what he deserved for being such a terrible father. He could have easily prevented the cycle of neglect from repeating. He could have stopped it.

But he didn’t.

And now he was worried that, if Jolyne ever had a child, its father wouldn’t be there for it either.

He would talk to Jolyne about it if that situation ever came to fruition, but for now he didn’t want to worry her with adult stuff. She needed to focus on being a kid.

Jolyne walked into Jotaro’s room and climbed onto his bed, kicking her legs as she watched him pack his belongings into boxes.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“I’m staying in a hotel during the divorce, then I’ll probably move to an apartment or something,” he shrugged, his voice devoid of any kind of emotion.

“Why?” Jolyne questioned, “why are you leaving? Why can’t you just stay with me and mommy?”

Jotaro felt his heart shatter into a million pieces upon hearing that. Little Jolyne sounded so sad and innocent. He just wanted to run over and hug her and tell her he would never leave for good, and that he was sorry for being such a shit father.

But that wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t rewind time and erase the countless nights she ate dinner alone with her mother, or the days she came home from school to an empty home whilst her mother was out shopping or running errands.

All of that would still be the same, and it killed him to think about. There was nothing he could do to undo the past.

This time, he really was powerless.

Confronted with a situation he couldn’t control, any sense of stability he had instantly flew out the window. Externally, he seemed to be his usual self, but internally, he was a mere inch away from having some kind of breakdown. Everything that had happened in the past day and a half had pushed him to the edge.

And he found himself in the same place he always had been. Alone, pushing everyone that loved and cared about him away.

Why couldn’t he stop? Why couldn’t he give up on burning every bridge that he’d taken years to create in a matter of hours or even minutes? Why did it feel so good in the heat of the moment to tear apart bonds he’d worked so hard for, only to be filled with regret after the rush was over?

“I just have to go. I need to be alone,” Jotaro said flatly.

Jolyne said nothing, not understanding why her father was acting like this.

To be honest, she understood very little of him. He was a weird person, very reserved and aloof. To young Jolyne, Jotaro was more of a ghost than a father. She almost never saw him, and when she did, he was exhausted and usually grumpier than usual.

She couldn’t say she would miss him. The girl felt terrible for thinking that way, but the seeds of disdain for her neglectful father had already been sowed deep within her, just as they’d been with her father before her.

“Do you not love me?” She asked, her tone dark.

Jotaro froze, clutching one of the shirts he’d been folding close to his chest. Turning around, he stared at his daughter, who was looking down at him from the bed.

“It’s not like that,” he choked out, some unreadable emotion flashing in the deep blue oceans of his eyes.

“Then what is it like?” Jolyne questioned.

Jotaro stared at her in disbelief.

And he saw himself. He saw the same angry, confused child that he used to be. No wonder she was acting like this.

She was just doing what he’d forced her to do. Jolyne had been backed into a corner, and was baring her claws and fangs. Jotaro had no right to be shocked when he was the one who’d pushed her that far.

He reassured himself that it would be okay. In typical Jotaro fashion, he was going to run away from this too.

Jotaro couldn’t say anything in response to Jolyne. He merely sat staring at her, clutching the shirt against his chest, his knuckles white.

Why was he letting his own child play mind games with him?

“Go to your room. Leave me alone,” he commanded, his voice firm and dark, not reflecting his wavering heart.

Jolyne gave him one last sidelong glance before sliding off the edge of the bed and heading to her room, closing Jotaro’s door behind her.

What the fuck was going on? Was he going crazy?

This was just more proof that he needed to get out of this damn house. It was pushing him past his limit, his mind threatening to break under the pressure. In all his years as an officer, nothing has phased him as much as this had. He’d been shot twice, negotiated hostage situations, seen countless deaths, car accidents, robberies, victims of impossible human cruelty—everything.

But somehow, this was different. It shook him to the core of his being.

He needed to leave now.

He finished packing as fast as he could, feeling as though even the walls themselves were glaring at him with harsh scrutiny.

Once everything of value to him was hastily packed into boxes, he took them all out in his car, having to pass his wife in the living room multiple times, feeling her glare boring into the back of his head.

The moment he’d gotten the last box into the trunk of his car, he rushed out of the driveway and down the cul-de-sac of his quaint suburban neighborhood that now felt more like the scene of a brutal murder.

As the scene shrank behind him in his rear-view mirror, the impossible dread that had been suffocating him earlier began to lift, and he was feeling slightly better.

It was as if something in that house was oppressing him.

Still, something was nagging him, eating at his mind.

Wes.

Did he get the letter? Was he going to end up quitting the force anyways, despite Jotaro’s words of warning? If that motherfucker quit his job just because of him, Jotaro swore he’d never forgive him.

His phone suddenly began vibrating in his pocket, and it took every ounce of strength he had to resist picking it up. He knew who it was, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t answer any messages from him during the divorce.

The pain of not being able to talk to him was already tugging at his heart, but if he couldn’t fulfill his promise to himself, what kind of person did that make him?

At the hotel, Jotaro was happy to be able to actually sleep in a bed that wasn’t his own. He muttered a few curses and groaned as he set the boxes full of important stuff down on the floor. For someone who was only 35, his back was killing him.

Countless nights of sleeping in his office chair had probably fucked up his back.

Oh well. That wasn’t going to be an issue anymore. He was going to sleep in an actual bed from now on.

He laughed lightly to himself as he remembered it fondly. Even something as trivial and uncomfortable as falling asleep in his desk chair held such sentiment to it.

Jotaro’s phone continued to vibrate all through the afternoon with calls from Wes.

There had admittedly been a few moments of temporary weakness when he was out on the hotel balcony breathing in the smoke of a long drag, staring out at the artificially geometric hand of the city skyline reaching up towards the heavens, contrasted against the blue sky dotted with wisps of white clouds. As he let his mind wander like the endless sky, his thoughts constantly returned to Wes, and he almost gave in and called him right on the spot.

But he didn’t, because Jotaro knew he would probably end up saying something stupid and ruin their relationship for good.

There was no coming back from a shattered romance; even all the apologies, make-up sex, and compliments in the world couldn’t fix it.

That night, Jotaro was barely able to sleep, and when his body did finally allow him temporary rest, he was haunted by nightmares that had manifested from the guilt of leaving everyone he’d loved behind. Nightmares of his wife and daughter being killed, of Wes dying in a shoot-out or some kind of hostage situation.

When he awoke at 6 AM sharp, his internal clock still on police officer time, he was drenched in a cold sweat, a pounding headache behind his eyes. Jotaro groaned as he rubbed his temples, muttering a quiet ‘fuck’ as he looked around the darkened room.

It seemed like everything was against him right now. It was like this world wanted him dead.

And right now, he kind of wished he was.

Without a job, Jotaro had nothing to do but stay at the hotel all day, smoking and drinking himself into a blurry haze as the hours passed slowly by. The only thing that punctuated his days that gave any indication of the passing of time was having to go to divorce court. Even there, all he did was sign whatever was put in front of him. He agreed to pay child support, and his wife took Jolyne and were going to sell the house.

Jotaro knew that meant he’d better find an apartment, as he couldn’t stay in this hotel forever, especially as pricey as it was. It wasn’t particularly high end, but hotels were just expensive.

By the time he’d moved into a small apartment in downtown Miami, just a few miles from the police station, the divorce proceedings were being finalized. The court took forever to handle the case for some reason, but Jotaro wasn’t surprised by the government’s inefficiency.

The same government who’d taken no measures to protect gay employees who worked under them. Nobody in that room was on his side, no matter how much they claimed to support him.

It seemed like now the whole world had become his enemy. He was still getting daily calls from Wes, and his ex-wife stated that, even after the house was put up for sale, the mail slot was still being stuffed with letters from Wes. Jotaro almost wanted to go get them and read each and every one; to read the love his ex-partner poured out onto the page.

Eventually, days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. The calls from Wes had slowed down in the first month or so after the divorce, and now they’d stopped completely.

Yet, Jotaro found himself missing them. He couldn’t stop thinking about Wes. His ex-partner was always at the back of his mind, haunting him like a stubborn ghost.

Did Wes move on? Was he dating someone else now? Was he even still on the force, or had he picked up a meteorology job like he’d had in the early years of college?

There were so many questions that were churning in his mind and no answers. Wes’ whereabouts were a mystery. Jotaro wasn’t even sure if his ex-partner even thought about him anymore.

Surely he wouldn’t have already forgotten him, right?

Despite having a law enforcement degree and high credentials, due to every single fucking person in Miami now knowing that he was ‘dishonorably’ discharged from the force made it hard to get a job.

Still, he needed money, and so he’d picked up a boring 9-5 office job that he absolutely hated.

It was crazy how much life could change in just over half a year. Jotaro smoked a lot more now, and drank a lot too, much more than he ever had as a cop, when he only drank maybe once a month. That had increased to every day now, and it was only growing more and more frequent.

As for his romantic life, it was non-existent. He hadn’t been able to date anyone since Wes, and knowing that he’d never officially broken up with him was tearing him up inside. He’d gone out with a few men he’d met through newspaper classifieds now and then, but none of them measured up to Wes Bluemarine. He’d now stopped dating entirely, and simply resorted to having sex with male escorts now and again.

It wasn’t satisfying, but it was better than masturbating.

This went on for over four years, during which Jotaro sunk into a deep depression and went from job to job, unable to hold anything down for more than a few months. He’d started having a chronic cough from smoking, and his doctor told him to cut back on the alcohol, unless he wanted to get cirrhosis.

It seemed like his life was heading off the deep end.

That was, until he got the luckiest break of his life in the form of a mysterious visitor knocking at his door.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, Jotaro’s door didn’t have one of those little peepholes, so he’d just have to ask who it was and trust them.

“Who is it?” Jotaro questioned darkly.

“Miami Police Department,” the voice behind the door said. The person sounded like an older man, but he had a kind and soft voice.

Jotaro swung the door open, revealing his disheveled, unshaven glory to the man standing in front of his door.

His blue eyes widened in shock when he saw the man’s uniform.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jotaro narrowed his eyes, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“I’m the police chief; I have been for three years now,” the man explained.

Still suspicious, Jotaro glared at him.

“Okay? What do you want from me?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“We have a cold case that we’re having a lot of difficulty s—“

Jotaro immediately cut him off.

“No fucking way. I’m not coming back to the force. Not now, not ever,” he growled, about to slam the door closed.

“Wait, M-Mister Kujo! I...I wanted to apologize for how the previous chief treated you...”

He pushed the door open slowly once more, staring at the chief.

His expression softened slightly.

“What?”

“I know what happened. I’m very sorry for how he treated you. There are no excuses I can give to justify it or make it right, I know, but...we’d like to ask you back to the force as an honorary member,” the man explained.

Jotaro was dumbfounded. He just stood there like a fucking idiot for several seconds, completely taken aback.

“Does Wes Bluemarine still work there?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Yes.”

Jotaro almost passed out when he heard that, coughing violently as he nearly choked on the smoke from his cigarette.

“Wh—Are you shitting me?” He asked, placing both hands on the chief’s shoulders.

“Um...I-I’m not...Officer Bluemarine is still with us. He used to be your partner, right?” The man asked.

“Is he married?” Jotaro asked darkly, his tone suddenly becoming serious again.

“I...I don’t think so?”

“Jesus fucking christ. That bastard,” Jotaro laughed dryly.

Wes really was a loser. He was still single all these years later.

“So...are you gonna come back to the force?” The chief asked.

“Thanks, for the offer, but no,” Jotaro growled at him, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Mister Kujo, please. Please, just take a minute to think it over. We really need help with this case. You were one of our best. We’ll even give you your old job back; no questions asked. All the benefits and everything. Please, Mister Kujo. At least consider it,” the man pleaded.

He sounded really desperate.

So desperate in fact, it was kind of pathetic.

“If I say I’ll think it over, will you get off my fucking doorstep?” He interrogated.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay then, I’ll think about it,” Jotaro said sarcastically, rolling his eyes before shutting the door.

From behind the closed door, he heard the chief speak. “U-Um...I’ll come back in a week then, okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, whatever,” Jotaro muttered.

He’d just had the biggest bombshell in years dropped on him, and he wasn’t sure how to feel.

The new chief was asking him back to the force, and even apologized for the old chief’s actions? They had a cold case they couldn’t solve?

The offer of getting his job back did feel kind of enticing. He’d even get his benefits back from it, like healthcare and insurance, which he didn’t currently have.

But then, the bitter memory of being kicked out washed over him, and the sour taste of regret lingered on his tongue.

He didn’t want to go back. What would he even do? They could find someone else to solve the case. It couldn’t be that important.

But the enticing idea of people seeing him as a hero for solving a cold case crept into his mind. Maybe he could regain the dignity he’d lost.

Still, there was one thing standing in his way.

Wes Bluemarine.

At that moment, something inside Jotaro changed.

When he thought about Wes, he still felt the same stupid feelings of affection from five years ago. Wes’ should have certainly faded by now, and he was probably seeing someone.

This was an opportunity to fix something. To fix a bridge he’d burned. An opportunity to fix a problem he’d ran from.

No more being a coward. Little kid Jotaro who ran away from all his problems was dead; Jotaro killed him in that moment.

He had to confront Wes and apologize for being a shithead. Maybe he couldn’t fix the relationship with his ex-wife and Jolyne, but his relationship with Wes wasn’t too far gone, hopefully.

Waiting for that week to pass was painful, and it felt as if time was moving at the speed of molasses.

He’d almost called the police department multiple times to say he wanted to come back, but that would be weird. He didn’t want to seem overzealous, like he was itching to return to a job he loved, even if it drove a rift between him and his wife.

He would have divorced her anyways.

He was sad about what happened with Jolyne, but it was too late to rectify it. He didn’t even know where she was or what she was doing. His wife hadn’t contacted him in four and a half years, so Jolyne’s current whereabouts were a mystery.

Finally, a week had passed after what felt like years.

For the first time in ages, Jotaro actually bothered to make himself look presentable. Shaving made him look a lot less old, which he was grateful for, as well as the youthful blood of the Joestar family, who all seemed to age impossibly well.

When he heard a knock at the door, his heart flipped in his chest.

Jotaro’s hand rested on the handle for a second, lingering. This was the last chance he had to turn back.

He wasn’t going to.

He’d made his choice.

Jotaro pulled the door open, looking at the man standing outside. Just as he’d expected, it was the chief.

“Hello, Mister Kujo! Did you decide?” He asked quietly.

“Yes. I’ll help you, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to take my job back,” he said.

“That’s okay, I understand. Thank you so much Mister Kujo, we really appreciate it! I’m very sorry for how you were treated before...”

The man trailed off, looking up at Jotaro.

“Yeah. That was fucking shitty,” he muttered.

“We’ve made a lot of changes at the station in terms of hate speech and homophobia and things like that, so hopefully things will be better for you,” he said cheerfully. Jotaro locked his apartment door behind him, putting his keys in his pocket.

He followed the man down the steps and towards a police cruiser parked in the parking lot.

The ride to the station was quiet, but Jotaro didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of defeat like he did on the day that he quit. Instead, he just felt anxious.

But he was going to confront Wes. He had to.

He had to fix what he fucked up.

And if he was really honest with himself, he missed Wes. He wanted to repair their relationship.

Still, an inkling of doubt wrapped its cold fingers around his mind. Maybe it was already too late. Maybe Wes already had a boyfriend or girlfriend.

He’d assess the situation at the station.

Once they got there, he followed the chief to his old office, which had been redone. It looked much nicer, but it didn’t feel as homey as his original office, since all his pictures and personal belongings were missing.

“Where’s Wes?” Jotaro asked, glancing back at the chief.

“In his office. He’s in charge of the case I mentioned earlier,” the chief told him. “He changed offices since you...left. I’ll show you where it is now,” the chief told him, motioning for Jotaro to follow.

Once they were outside of Wes’ office, the chief paused. “I’ll leave you two alone. I wouldn’t wanna intrude on the reunion,” he laughed a little, heading down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

Jotaro stared at the door for a moment, his hand hovering above the knob. All the blood in his body was racing, and his heart was pounding. Jotaro felt like he was going to be sick. He felt terribly out of place in his civilian clothes, which only made his anxiety worse.

In one swift motion, Jotaro opened the door, reluctantly gazing into the office.

Wes Bluemarine was sitting at his desk, deep in focus. He had a pen in his mouth, and was staring down at a large stack of papers, his thick brows furrowed in concentration.

Jotaro couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. He appeared to not even have aged a day in the five years that had passed. His tan skin was still perfectly soft and youthful-looking, and his curly, jet black hair that peeked out from underneath the sides of his hat was still the same length it had always been, and just as black.

Jotaro lingered in the doorway for a few moments, but Wes still didn’t take note of him.

“Wes?” Jotaro’s voice pierced the silence.

Wes’ dark brown eyes turned to meet Jotaro’s endless blue oceans.

“Ah. Jotaro.”

“It’s been five years and that’s how you greet me?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Seriously? Was Wes really going to act like Jotaro owed him something?

“I’m not here to play boyfriends, we need to solve a case,” Wes said bitterly, refocusing his gaze on the computer screen in front of him and typing away at the keyboard, the quiet tapping of the keys keeping the room from filling with a tense silence.

Jotaro closed the door behind him as he stepped into Wes’ office, making his way over to his ex-partner’s desk.

“I guess I’m working with you again,” he mumbled.

“I guess,” Wes retorted bitterly.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jotaro questioned, narrowing his eyes.

“I dunno, what the fuck is my problem, Kujo?” Wes replied, his attention fixated on the computer screen.

“Anyways, we have more important things to do than argue,” he muttered. “I’m going to brief you on the case. I won’t repeat myself, so listen.”

Jotaro folded his arms across his chest, sighing. “I’m listening. Make it quick.”

“About eight months ago, a woman went missing,” Wes started, pulling a manila folder out from under the stack of papers at the corner of his desk and handing it to Jotaro.

He opened it and scanned through the documents. Inside were several photos of the girl, a general report of basic information, newspaper articles from her death, the coroner’s report, and multiple other relevant documents.

“Anyways, they found the skull and leg bone of someone who matches that woman’s profile. Apparently the body was cut up into pieces, as we haven’t found the other leg, torso, or arms. The skull was missing all the teeth, so there was no way to do any dental record matches, and having been in the peat bog for almost a month obviously destroyed all the flesh. Thankfully, we can still safely say it’s her, as the skull and leg bone match her race, age, and height,” Wes explained.

“Okay, and?” Jotaro was confused as to why that mattered. It was sad that she died, but what relevance did it have? Did they not know the killer?

“I’m not done,” Jotaro’s ex-partner retorted.

“We got in contact with the woman’s mother, and she said that apparently, the night she went missing, the window to the woman’s room was open. It wasn’t broken, meaning that she had to have willingly left, as it wouldn’t be possible to carry an unwilling victim out of a second story window.”

“So she left on her own, then. And turned up dead later. Can we say with absolute certainty that she was murdered?” Jotaro asked.

“Well, no, but the body was definitely dismembered after death, which strongly points towards a murder. Why would someone randomly dismember an already dead body unless they had something to hide? The cuts on the neck vertebrae and leg bones indicated it was done with a serrated blade, and multiple forensic biologists said it wasn’t something an animal could have done,” Wes told him.

“Who was she with the night before?” Jotaro asked, the gears in his brain starting to turn.

“We have a few people in mind, but it gets worse. Apparently, this wan wasn’t the only victim. In the past eight months, four other women have disappeared in the exact same way, only to later be found dismembered somewhere. None of them have any fingerprints or teeth when we find them, and we’ve never found an entire body, only small sections. By the time we even find them, they’re usually pretty decomposed. Whoever the killer is dumps them in remote locations that most people don’t go to. In fact, all the bodies that have been found were located by park rangers,” he explained.

That meant that whoever was dumping the bodies obviously had advanced knowledge of the parks, and possibly inside access which would allow him to get into the parks at night in order to dump a body.

“Who are the suspects?” Jotaro asked.

“Funny you should ask. All the women are connected through one single suspect, but everything about him is basically unknown. The first woman’s mother stated that he was the deceased’s boyfriend. Naturally, we assumed she had to have some information about him, but she’s quite old and apparently has memory problems. Regardless, she told us that her daughter called the man ‘Anakiss’. I doubt that’s his real name though, as searches of our criminal database and Miami’s birth certificate registry didn’t turn up anyone with that name,” Wes sighed.

“Anakiss...” Jotaro mumbled. Weird nickname, but if he was a murderer, it made sense he wouldn’t tell people his real name.

“That’s not to say it couldn’t be his real name, but we checked all the birth certificates in the last 40 years, and not one person named Anakiss came up.”

“Is it possible that he changed his name?” Jotaro asked.

“I don’t know. Even with government documents, there’s no way to really tell, considering how we don’t know what his real name is, or if his legal name even is Anakiss. It could just be some kind of nickname or something,” the other let out another disgruntled sigh.

“What relation does he have to the other four deceased?”

“Boyfriend. Apparently he dated all of them at some point, right up until their disappearances. He had each one of them as girlfriends over the course of the eight months, getting a new girlfriend shortly after the old ones disappeared,” Wes explained.

It made sense that he was the main suspect. All of it seemed to point to him.

“Well, what does he look like? We can find him easily if we know what he looks like,” Jotaro told him.

“You probably won’t believe this, but...everyone gave varying reports. The constants are that he’s tall and well built, probably around your height. Caucasian, definitely American. Oddly enough, the first victim’s mother said he had pink, long hair, but the second victim’s best friends stated that his hair was long, but it was black. The third and fourth victim’s families said that he always wore a hat, and that his hair was usually up, and it was blonde instead of black. The fifth victim’s sister told us his hair was short, and orange-blonde.”

So he was changing his appearance to fool people.

“Well, that just makes him more suspicious. I’m assuming the five victims didn’t know each other,” Jotaro stated.

“They didn’t,” Wes replied.

“Hm. Any details about his car? It’s possible that we could trace it.”

“We already thought of that. Apparently, he changed cars as much as he changed appearances. All the local car dealerships and rental places said they hadn’t sold anything to anyone named Anakiss.”

Jotaro groaned, massaging his temples.

Why was this guy making things so hard?

“So do we have any leads?” He questioned, his temper starting to run short.

“Not really. All we really know is he’s a tall guy who’s muscular, and dyes his hair. There’s several possible jobs he could do, but of course, we can’t confirm anything,” Wes told him. “It’s possible he could be a park ranger or something. Of course, we requested for a list of park staff for the entire city and found nobody named Anakiss. We organized the list by men, and then men who fit the physical description, and ended up with four people, but there was no evidence pointing towards them being the man we’re searching for.”

This was frustrating. This ‘Anakiss’ person basically had the police running blindly in circles at this point.

“We have security footage from the latest murder. There’s a tape of Anakiss and his girlfriend getting into the car. We sent it to the FBI for analysis a while back, and they were able to positively identify the car as a black or dark blue Toyota Avalon, a more recent model. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get the plate number, but we know that right now he probably drives a dark-colored Toyota Avalon,” Wes told him, pulling up the grainy black-and-white video on his computer screen.

“Where was this taken?” Jotaro asked, watching the low-quaity footage closely.

“Outside a movie theater. This was the night before this woman disappeared.”

He paused for a while, trying to think of any possible mistakes this guy could have made. No criminals were ever perfect, but this guy was damn near close. Jotaro understood now why the case had turned cold.

“What’s his type?” He asked, mentally analyzing every situation he could think of that would lead to them catching this guy.

“What?” Wes narrowed his eyes. “Are you gonna try and seduce him with your great attitude?” He asked dryly.

“If he has a type, maybe we can predict the next victim,” Jotaro said.

“You know our job is to prevent murders, not wait for them to happen, right?” Wes grumbled.

“What do all the victims have in common?” He asked himself, looking over the various documents that were sprawled across Wes’ desk.

“That’s just it. They don’t have anything in common. It’s like he just picks random girls.”

“The phones. Did anyone look at the victim’s phones?” Jotaro asked.

“What? What do the phones have to do with anything?” Wes narrowed his eyes, wondering if Jotaro was just fucking with him.

“Well, the victims had to communicate with him somehow. They probably have texts or something, something that may give us more info. These women have nothing in common besides all being from around the area, which makes me believe he may have met them online somehow. Maybe not, but we can’t rule it out until we check the phones,” he told the other.

Wes felt something stirring inside him that he desperately wanted to ignore. Jotaro didn’t love him. He’d abandoned him, left him behind. He didn’t answer any of his messages, and he’d thought nothing of his feelings or how suddenly leaving his life with no warning would fuck with him.

“Wouldn’t they have taken their phones with them when they left the house?” Wes asked.

“No. Cell phone towers could easily pick up on their locations, so Anakiss would probably tell them to leave their phones at home. The photos from the crime scenes also show that no personal belongings were taken. This proves that Anakiss isn’t as good of a criminal as he thinks he is. He has no way to dispose of evidence, so he just makes his girlfriends leave their belongings. Either way, we have a lead that wasn’t previously considered,” he said confidently.

“We need to get our hands on the phones somehow. Let’s try the most recent victim, since her family is more likely to have not given away or sold her belongings yet,” Wes stated calmly, rising from his chair.

Jotaro walked up behind Wes, placing a hand on his shoulder. Wes slapped his hand off, opening the door and walking briskly down the hall and outside to one of the unmarked cruisers parked behind the station.

“What the fuck is with you?” Jotaro growled.

Wes simply ignored him as he removed the keys to the car from his belt, unlocking the doors and climbing into the driver’s seat.

Shoving the key into the ignition, he stared the engine. Jotaro lingered outside the passenger side door for a moment before opening it and sitting down, sighing as he buckled his seatbelt.

The atmosphere in the car was impossibly tense, almost suffocating. The A/C was on the lowest possible setting, but the air was freezing cold, as if Wes’ very presence froze every drop of water around the two of them.

As the Wes drove, grasping the steering wheel with white knuckles, Jotaro was glad that the silence that would have been too much for him was instead filled with some Deftones song he didn’t know, but was thankful that it was playing quietly over the car radio at this moment.

“I know the real reason you didn’t answer any of my calls or texts, Jotaro,” Wes said flatly, narrowing his dark brown, almost black eyes.

Jotaro said nothing, simply staring out the passenger side window at the passing scenery.

“It’s because you’re a coward.”

Jotaro felt the blood in his veins instantly become hot, and he turned to face his ex-partner, rage bubbling up in his chest.

“What?” He asked, shocked at Wes’ sudden accusation.

“You heard me. You’re a coward. The whole ‘I need my space’ thing was just a farce. You abandoned me because it was too much for you; keeping our little relationship a secret. In the end, you felt so guilty over your little affair that you chose to have,” Wes spat bitterly, his words soaked in poison.

Jotaro knew deep down that Wes was right, but he wasn’t going to let himself be embarrassed like this.

“Shut the fuck up. It was easy for you to keep what we did on the down-low, you didn’t have a fucking family to feed. You were fresh out of college without a care in the goddamn world, knowing that you didn’t have to care for anyone but yourself. If you lost your job, you wouldn’t care. All you wanted to do was fuck me all the time,” he retorted sharply.

“Tch,” Wes clicked his tongue, letting out a frustrated sigh. “All you wanted to do was run from all your problems like the coward you are. It’s so typical of you to do things like that. I don’t even know why I was surprised when you tried running from the guilt of cheating on your wife by cutting off everyone who mattered in your life,” Wes growled, electrical tension sparking in the air.

“Don’t bring my wife into this, Bluemarine,” Jotaro told him. “She doesn’t fucking concern you.”

“Oh, I know. She only knew me as that friend from work, right? She didn’t know about our whole little secret relationship that you kept so well hidden, did she?” Wes asked. Before Jotaro could even answer, he continued. “I know she didn’t, or else she would’ve filed a divorce right then and there,” he told the other.

“You have some nerve acting like I was the only one keeping it a secret. You were the one in a relationship with a married man, let alone your fucking police partner.” Jotaro hissed through clenched teeth.

“Whatever. You love acting all high and mighty, but you never cared about me,” Wes started, keeping his eyes fixated on the road out the front window. “You just stopped answering my messages cold turkey because you felt shitty. Seriously? You didn’t think I’d wonder what happened? You ignored every phone call, every text, every email, even every goddamn hand-written letter I sent to your house!” Wes’ voice cracked as he spoke, hot tears of sadness and anger threatening to spill over.

“You punished me because you felt guilty. Still, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised about you only caring about yourself though, that was always how you were.”

Jotaro suddenly felt guilty. He’d abandoned Wes for no good reason besides the fact that he was feeling guilty and wanted to push people away so that he couldn’t be hurt anymore.

“Wes, I—“ Jotaro started, but Wes cut him off.

“No need, I get it. You’re just a spineless coward who took the easy way out when things got a little difficult,” he said. “That isn’t the Jotaro I knew. That isn’t the man I...fell in love with.”

All the anger that had been boiling in his chest suddenly seemed to melt away as he listened to the other lay his feelings bare.

“The Jotaro that I loved never fucking gave up, even when the going was tough. I guess you’ve changed, and not at all for the better,” Wes breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Wes...I...”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘I shouldn’t have abandoned you because I was guilty’. Even just an ‘I’m sorry’ will work,” Wes said.

“I’m sorry.” Jotaro sighed.

“Whatever. I’m over it,” Wes replied bitterly, casting the car back into an uncomfortably tense atmosphere.

For a while, it continued this way. Wes driving, holding the steering wheel impossibly tight, his palms sweaty despite how cold the air felt.

Jotaro cleared his throat, glancing at Wes out of the corner of his eye.

“I...my wife and I got divorced.”

“Wait, really?” Wes immediately perked up, looking over at Jotaro. “I mean, I knew the letter said you were divorcing her, but...I thought you were kinda bullshitting or something. I thought maybe you’d just said that in the heat of the moment. Still, it doesn’t really surprise me.”

“Really,” Jotaro nodded.

“Why’d you even marry her if you were just gonna cheat on her with me in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been way easier to just get with a man, since you’re gay and all?” Wes asked.

Jotaro paused, sighing. It was difficult. It had taken him a long time to fully come to terms with who he was. He didn’t even realize he was gay until he was in college, when he’d started ‘experimenting’ with men. He realized at that point that he’d never been attracted to a single woman in his life, which would explain why he’d also never had a girlfriend.

So why did he marry his wife?

It was simple. Pressure. Pressure from society. Unmarried men were often seen as losers, especially in Japanese culture. Pressure from his family. His mother, Holly, constantly tried hooking him up with girls, trying to get him to date. He figured maybe, just maybe, he could change. Maybe his wife would be the first woman he loved, and he’d fall for her if he married her.

It didn’t work, naturally.

Maybe that was why he was automatically drawn to Wes. He was only a year younger than Jotaro, handsome, well-built, and had a strong and kind yet eccentric personality. He was loyal and cared deeply for people he loved. That was the Wes that Jotaro had fallen for.

He was glad he and his wife parted ways. It was what was best for them both. She would definitely find another, better man, who would love her and treat her like a queen. He did feel bad for abandoning Jolyne in the process, but he couldn’t raise her. Even looking at her filled him with guilt.

It wasn’t her fault.

It just reminded him of his wife. Of the guilt he felt knowing that he was cheating on his wife with his partner from the force.

It was his fault for being such a coward.

It was his fault for running away from his problems. This was the aftermath of the blaze that had spawned from the ashes of the bridges he’d burned to get to this place in his life.

“So...” Wes cleared his throat, a soft blush creeping up onto his lightly tanned skin. “That means you’re single, right?”

The ghost of a smile passed over Jotaro’s lips, and Wes remembered why he’d fallen in love.

“It does,” Jotaro laughed lightly.

Wes’ head spun when he heard that angelic laugh. It was so rare to hear Jotaro laugh. When he did hear it, it felt like his whole body was on fire.

“Seriously?! It’s been five years and the devilishly handsome Jotaro Kujo isn’t seeing anyone?” Wes joked, the atmosphere in the cruiser lightening instantly. It felt almost euphoric at this point, the flame of their bond having been rekindled.

Jotaro laughed again, an elusive full smile on his usually serious face.

He was so beautiful. Wes had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road.

Jesus christ.

This guy should be considered a driving hazard.

“ I figured you’d have a girlfriend or something, though,” Jotaro commented. Wes was handsome and had a good job. It was weird that he hadn’t found anyone.

Wes shrugged. “I did for a bit, but...we just didn’t work well, and mutually agreed to split up,” he explained. “I guess that was for the best, because I was still hurting then, and I just wanted someone to replace you.”

There was another silence between the two of them for a few moments, but not a bad one.

“I...sorry for those shitty things I said like five minutes ago,” Wes sighed.

“It’s okay. I deserved it,” Jotaro shrugged. “You have every right to be upset with me. I treated you like shit. I really didn’t realize how good I had it...” he trailed off.

“Yeah. Relationships are like that sometimes. You don’t even realize how good it is until it’s gone, y’know?” Wes told him.

“We...uh...We never did officially break up,” Jotaro pointed out.

Wes glanced at him for a moment, smiling awkwardly. He cherished these rare, oddly sweet moments with his partner.

“Guess that makes us still partners, even if it’s not in a police sense,” Wes laughed.

“Actually, I was offered my job back,” Jotaro informed him, leaning back in his seat a bit.

“Huh? Really? That’s good.” Wes looked surprised, but in a good way. A giddy feeling rose up in his stomach. It felt like he was a young child developing his first crush.

“Are you gonna accept the offer?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe, but...I want to think it over some,” Jotaro told him.

He’d had forgotten how much he’d missed this. Now that he had Wes back, he swore that he wouldn’t ever let this relationship slip through his fingers again.

He wouldn’t trade this for the world, not in a million years.

Chapter Text

When the two officers finally arrived outside the house of the fifth victim, the atmosphere had become tense and somber.

Jotaro and Wes stepped out of the cruiser, solemnly heading towards the door of the home.

Wes rang the doorbell, and there were a few moments of silence before they heard footsteps behind the door; the door creaking open.

A woman poked her head out, and her eyes widened instantly when she saw the two officers. “Um...hello? Can I help you two?” She questioned, stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

“Yes, we’re here from the Miami Police Department. Over a month ago, a woman went missing from this household. We were wondering if you still had her cell phone,” Wes said calmly.

“Cell phone? For what?” The lady looked confused.

“We’re trying to conduct an investigation into the main suspect, and we believe that the phone may provide us with a valuable lead,” Jotaro told her.

The woman still looked confused, but she headed back inside, presumably to go get the phone.

Wes draped his arm over Jotaro’s shoulder, causing him to blush slightly. “Wes, not in public!” He scolded.

“C’mon Jojo,” Wes teased, nonetheless removing his arm from the other’s shoulder.

The door opened once more, and the woman from before exited, holding a plastic bag with a cell phone in it.

“We were going to get rid of it in a few days, so you guys came at the perfect time,” the woman told them, handing the phone over to the two officers.

“Thank you, miss. We’ll get back to you with any significant leads we may find,” Jotaro assured the woman, giving her a polite nod.

“Okay, bye,” she said flatly, quickly closing the door.

Neither of them thought much of it, as it was usual for people to be standoffish around cops, not to mention the fact that the woman was probably still grieving the loss of the fifth victim.

“Should we check with the fourth victim’s family? They may still have the phone, although it’s been over two months,” Wes questioned. It was possible that they kept the phone, either to sell it or to simply keep it as a memento.

But, considering how it had been almost 3 months since the murder, it was possible they’d already gotten rid of it.

“I’ll call,” Wes told him, “let’s go back to the station and look over this phone.”

Jotaro nodded, getting back into the passenger seat of the cruiser. Wes climbed into the driver’s seat, and the two of them headed back to the station.

As they were driving, Wes broke the silence with a question. “You wanna go out for a drink sometime? We need to get reacquainted,” he smiled softly.

“Why don’t we get coffee instead? I’ve had enough alcohol for one lifetime. I’d rather not fuck up my liver,” Jotaro muttered.

Wes cast him a sidelong glance, assuming that his partner had fallen into a bad drinking habit during their time apart.

That didn’t surprise him. He knew Jotaro well enough to know that some of his coping mechanisms weren’t the best. Still, he wasn’t going to pry about it, now that he realized what he was doing was unhealthy.

“Sure. Whatever’s fine with me. I just wanna spend time with you like we used to. It’ll be nice to just sit and catch up,” he sighed happily.

“I don’t know how nice it’ll be with the case we’re on. That Anakiss guy is still out there, and he’ll definitely kill someone again. He has no motive to stop, unless he realizes we’re on his tail,” Jotaro explained pointedly.

“It’s impossible to know whether or not he knows we’re onto him, although it can be assumed he knows we’ll find out sooner or later,” Wes shrugged.

It could turn out to be a double-edged sword. Some people stopped killing when police found out what they were doing in hopes that the old evidence would be too old for anything to come of it, and the case would merely turn cold.

Some people, however, killed more people. They would sometimes do it to taunt the police.

“Well, we technically haven’t found anything out,” Jotaro looked down at the phone in his lap. It was turned off, and the screen was covered in fingerprints. They could try and lift a print from it, but considering that at least two people had touched the phone besides the killer, that might be difficult.

“That’s true,” Wes replied. They would definitely try and exhaust all the leads they had before he killed again, but there was nothing they could do to stop him. Since he changed his appearance, his car, had no credit card records from any popular stores in the city, and killed at seemingly random places around Miami, it was impossible to pinpoint his next target.

At this point, it was simply a race against the clock. Jotaro feared that they wouldn’t be able to make an arrest before he killed someone again.

Once they got back to the station, Jotaro took the phone to the evidence room to examine it. Wes went with him into the room, closing the door.

After having put on gloves as to not mess up any prints, Jotaro slid the phone out of the bag, doing a quick print lift on the front and back. After that had been done, he took his gloves off and turned the phone on.

It didn’t have a password, so he simply slid across the bottom of the screen to unlock it.

There were many apps on the screen, but only a couple Jotaro had any interest in. First, he checked the browser history. Nothing interesting.

Checking the girl’s Instagram account, there were several pictures of her with the man, but his face was blurred out in every picture, and he didn’t have any accounts tagged or anything. One caption on a photo simply stated ‘me and the boyf <3 he doesnt have ig tho’.

Disappointing, but not at all surprising.

Scrolling through the list of apps the on the phone, he realized that Tinder was installed.

It was possible that the two of them had met in this way.

Opening the app, Jotaro poked around a little, requesting Wes’ help with a few things, since he’d never used a dating app in his life.

Looking at the people the girl had ‘matched’ with, the name they were looking for instantly came up.

Anakiss.

The man’s profile showed pictures of him with pink hair. It was long, definitely reaching his back. His face was surprisingly normal-looking.

“Sweet. We know what his face looks like now!” Wes chirped.

“Didn’t we already have police sketches?” Jotaro raised a thick black eyebrow.

Wes nodded, “yeah, but those were drawn solely from witness accounts. We didn’t have any actual photos until now, as we found no social media accounts under the name ‘Anakiss’ we could find. The closest thing to a picture we had was grainy security footage, which only showed the back of his head,” he explained.

Nice.

Wes took several screenshots, planning to upload them to the computer later so he could print them out.

Still, Jotaro wasn’t too excited. Just having a picture of this guy’s face did nothing, and nobody had responded to the public sketches that were released. They still had no more information than they did after the first murder.

This was going to be a lot harder than he’d originally anticipated.

Still, it was nice to be challenged by something again. He liked solving cases like this. It was nice to actually have something to keep him busy.

Anakiss’ Tinder profile had him listed as 25 years old.

That meant that they now knew his birth year, so it would be easier to search for. It could he possible that he was lying, but he looked young. If his actual age was higher, he’d aged extremely well. The guy didn’t look a day over 30.

Jotaro took a moment to examine the messages between him and the victim. They’d exchanged many messages, and had gone on multiple dates. Anakiss had given the fifth victim his phone number, and then the Tinder messages stopped.

He went to the phone’s text messages, looking them over. Most of them weren’t helpful, just couple banter.

However, a few of them were addresses and times for meeting up at certain places.

This would allow them to follow the murderer’s trail.

Still, they were at a dead end even with this information. They didn’t have anything that would actually allow them to track this guy.

That was, until his eyes rested upon a particular address. It was an address for a hotel. The message before it was ‘Anakiss’ inviting the victim to his hotel room. Naturally, she asked him why he wasn’t inviting her to his house. His reply stated that he was having some work done in his apartment, and that he had to stay in a hotel for a few nights.

They were inching towards their goal, slowly.

The question was, was it fast enough? Would they be able to stop him before he committed a sixth murder?

“You want to go to a hotel?” Jotaro questioned, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he looked down at the phone screen.

“A hotel? What? Why?” Wes sounded confused.

“I’ll explain in the car. Take those to the analyst, then meet me outside.” The other stood up, staring at the screen in disbelief, his blue eyes wide.

Briskly leaving the room, he left his partner in confusion.

Still, Wes couldn’t help but feel happy. It was nice seeing Jotaro excited about something. He seemed to be really getting into the case.

It seemed to be distracting him from the depression he’d been sinking deeper and deeper into over the past several years.

After dropping off the prints he’d lifted from the phone to the analyst at the station, he headed outside to meet Jotaro.

His partner was standing outside the station, smoking and still looking at something on the phone’s screen.

“Jojo.” Wes’ voice pulled him from his trance.

“Hm? What?” He asked, glancing up at the other.

“Why are we going to a hotel?” Wes questioned, standing beside Jotaro.

“According to the Tinder messages, the suspect’s last location where he’d been with the victim was at a hotel downtown,” he explained.

“Why’d they meet in a hotel? Did she not find that suspicious?”

“Apparently, the killer tried passing off their meeting at the hotel as him being unable to stay at his home due to having work being done. This was their first meeting not in a public location, so naturally he’d be cautious of letting her into his home. It may have also been that he was trying to hide something. Maybe there was evidence he didn’t want her seeing, in case she came to us,” Jotaro told him.

That made sense. It was natural that a murderer trying to keep something a secret would invite a woman to a hotel instead of his home.

“Do we know the address to his place?” Wes raised an eyebrow. It would definitely lead them right to him if they did.

“I checked the address history on her phone’s GPS, and there is a location which could be an apartment complex. We don’t have a room number, unfortunately. It seems like ‘Anakiss’ never discussed his home address over text. He must’ve shared it over a call, because there are no texts or Tinder messages that say anything about where he lives.”

“Damn. He must’ve really thought this through,” Wes muttered.

“Yeah. Still, we should head to the hotel first to see if we can get any information, and we’ll go to the apartment tonight,” Jotaro told him, taking the keys to his cruiser off his belt and unlocking the car, taking a seat in front of the steering wheel. Wes sat in the passenger seat, not even caring if this led them to anything or not.

He just wanted to spend time with Jotaro, and nothing made him happier than seeing the other finally be excited for something. He knew that Jotaro had been depressed for the past several years for obvious reason, so it was nice seeing him with a new energy; the same zest he’d had when he first joined the force all those years back.