#first time writing keicho and i hope it's okay!

[stardustedsins]

Kiss Prompts #47. A kiss out of spite

Nijimura Keicho/reader (gender neutral reader)

You haven’t noticed Okuyasu’s little crush on you, but Keicho has. You don’t realize there’s a mean spirited reason for him to start getting closer to you, monopolizing your attention as you walk to school with them each morning. (Keicho thinks it’s only fair. He’s given up a lot for Okuyasu. Okuyasu can give up on a silly crush.)

You do notice that you like the attention, and soon enough you’re walking arm in arm with him to and from school. Keicho compliments you, talks with you about his plans for after he graduates, and listens to you talk about your classes and club activities at school.

“-which is why I have to hurry home and study.” You finish explaining what your teacher had said about tomorrow’s test. “I didn’t know I was missing such an important lesson when I was out sick last week!”

“I could help you with it, if you want. I did well on that unit last year.” He offers, and you beam.

“Really? Thank you!”

“You can come home with me, then, and we’ll study there.”

“You’re the best, Keicho.” There’s a skip in your step as the three of you walk to the Nijimura house. When you get there, you spread your textbook, handouts, and notes out on the low table in the living room. Keicho sits next to you, and you show him what you’re sure you already know, and what you’re missing. Okuyasu doesn’t stick around, but you can hear him moving around in the kitchen.

Keicho’s not a bad teacher, despite his tendency to be blunt about things. You feel like you understand the material you were missing well enough to take the test.

“You should try the practice problems from the back of the book.” He suggests, and you turn to a new page in your notebook and start the little quiz. When you’re done, you pass it to him to check.

“Ninety five percent. Not bad.” He announces, grabbing a pen to mark the one you’d gotten wrong. Okuasyu pokes his head in. 

“Anyone hungry? I wanted a snack, so I made enough for all of us.” He brings over a little plate for each of you, setting them on the table.

“Thanks, Okuyasu.” You smile at him. “Check it out, I only got one wrong on the practice quiz!”

You hold up the notebook to show him, but before you can put it back in its place on the table, Keicho’s hand is on your cheek, turning your head to face him. And then his lips are on yours, and you drop the notebook entirely. You don’t notice Okuyasu’s frustrated huff.

“Doing well deserves a reward, doesn’t it?” Keicho says when he pulls away, and you feel your face heating up.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Okuyasu hurries out, heavy footsteps fading away as he goes upstairs. 

“Then I’ll have to do really well on the test tomorrow.” You joke. Keicho smiles, the cat that got the cream. (He hopes you do. He’s come to like you. Pissing off Okuyasu is just a bonus at this point.)

[yrpreciousmoon]

Morion Hi-Fi (17/25)

Title: Morioh Hi-Fi (17/25)     All Chapters Here Ongoing Playlist Here Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Pairing: Josuke x Okuyasu; Rohan x Reimi; Koichi x Yukako; more.   Rating: T Description: In an AU where Part 4 never happened, it seems Stand users are still drawn to each other. Rohan Kishibe runs Morioh’s coolest record store, along with the world’s okayest employees: Koichi, Yuya, and Okuyasu. They live happily in their bubble of obscure music references and hipster style points until the fateful day when Josuke Higashikata enters the picture. (aka: Started writing a self indulgent AU heavily inspired by the series and movie High Fidelity, and just decided to lean into it.) Primarily a Josuyasu story, with subplots and minor relationships. And occasionally artwork!

AN: WELCOME TO ANGST WEEK. These next two chapters are gonna hurt.

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Track 16: Hot 'n Cold    

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Something about being asked to open up the shop alone felt good. Sure, Okuyasu knew that if Koichi didn't have classes during the day, Rohan would ask him to open every time. But being number two to Koichi wasn't half bad. In any case, it meant that Rohan at least trusted him more than Yuya, and that he preferred Okuyasu running the store to it being closed. That felt like high praise coming from Rohan Kishibe.

So when Okuyasu had received the frantic and nondescript call from his boss asking him to cover in the morning, he hadn't been upset in the slightest. Keicho had complained about the rather late phone call of course, but Keicho seemed to complain about everything he did these days, so Okuyasu didn't pay him any mind.

He was sure to get up the first time his alarm went off that morning, chugged his coffee and was out the door early, eager to be on time to work for once, to prove his worth. He even had a bit of a spring in his step; he was grateful for the opportunity to have some peace and quiet, some time to himself to think.

This was, however, wishful thinking. When Okuyasu rounded the final corner to Dark Pink, he slowed to a stop. There was not one, but two familiar faces already waiting there to greet him.

The first was Mikitaka, perched like some kind of brightly colored gargoyle on the low wall of the stairs which descended to the record store. “Good morning!” Mikitaka called, “I saw him out walking like this and I simply had to ask where he was going! How funny that we would all end up here.” Miki looked up at Okuyasu through his enormous glasses and gave a pointed nod towards the other figure who was standing there.

It was Josuke, looking exhausted but smiling, an unwieldy bouquet cradled in his arm while the other hand grasped a huge, gaudy Happy Birthday! Balloon. Okuyasu just blinked until Josuke started towards him.

“Josuke...? What's...?” Okuyasu's forehead creased, his eyes darting between Josuke's face, the flowers, the balloon.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It was... the only one left at the store. But it's the thought that counts, right?” Josuke reached out and began tying the balloon string around Okuyasu's wrist.

“I... But... What's the thought?”

“The thought is that I'm sorry for being a fucking idiot the other night,” Josuke said, sheepishly offering him the bouquet. “I was a mess and I don't know what I was trying to do, but it was stupid and I'm sorry.”

“Oh...” Okuyasu looked down at the flowers. “Ah... It's okay Josuke... I just, uh...” He met Mikitaka's eyes; the blonde was watching them with interest. “M-maybe we should talk about this somewhere more private?”

“Sure.” Josuke smiled, though he deflated a little bit. He'd clearly been hoping for a quick and easy mending, but the fact remained that Okuyasu still didn't know where the fuck they stood with each other.

And so Okuyasu fished the master keys to Dark Pink out of his pockets, dutifully opened the rusty old security gate and unlocked the front doors, flicking on all of the light switches as his two companions followed along behind him.

“Um... Miki,” he said, tapping at his chin, “You mind puttin' a record on and keepin' an eye on the place for a few minutes? I gotta talk to Josuke about somethin' out back. Just... holler if there's any issues, okay?”

Mikitaka smiled brightly. “Of course! Happy to help, Okuyasu! I'll make you proud!” He gave a solemn bow before bounding off towards the demo record player, and Okuyasu gestured for Josuke to follow him to the office.

Once inside, Okuyasu closed the door, silently moved to set his flowers on the desk and then (somewhat reluctantly) untie the balloon. Josuke watched the thing bop unceremoniously against the ceiling before shooting Okuyasu a long look. As Okuyasu dropped into Rohan's well-worn office chair, Josuke placed a hand on the desk and leaned against it.

“So...” he said, looking away.

“Yeah...” agreed Okuyasu, “So.”

Things were quiet for a moment. The opening track of Sea Change drifted in from the other room. Okuyasu could make out some motion behind the mostly-closed blinds; Miktaka must be up to his “interpretive dance” stuff again.

“Hey, Oku...?”

Okuyasu set his jaw. Damn. Hearing Josuke say his name like that... it was hard not to just melt and forgive him on the spot. He did his best to stay strong. “Mm, mhmm?”

“I... really am sorry. About everything. I shouldn't have forced you into a situation you were uncomfortable with.” He bit on his lower lip. Okuyasu averted his eyes, not wanting to linger too long on Josuke's mouth. “I just... I just wanted to show you what I... how I...” He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing. “The thing is... I'm not exactly ready to be in a real relationship. But I... I do like you a lot. And I don't know how to make those two things work.”

“Right. Okay.” Okuyasu stared intently at one of the flowers. He plucked a petal. It sure was pretty. “So... When you say you like me...”

Josuke hesitated. “I can't remember the last time I just... enjoyed hanging out with someone as much as I do with you. Like, no matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'd rather be doing it with you.” Okuyasu dared to look up at him again just as an expression crossed Josuke's face like he hadn't meant to say that out loud. The elusive blush crept into his cheeks and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. “...That sounded so lame, I'm sorry. Ugh, see, this is what I mean...” He buried his face in his hands and turned to sit down on the desk, keeping his back to Okuyasu. “I really don't want to fuck up this... whatever this is. I want to keep hanging out with you and having fun and...” He trailed off and Okuyasu could feel his frustration.

“Hey, I get it.” He stood from the chair, rounded the table and hopped up beside Josuke, steadying himself with one boot against the edge of the desk. “It's hard t' put to words, but I get it.” His arm found its way around Josuke's waist, where it belonged.

Josuke let his chin rest on Okuyasu's shoulder and he searched his friend's face. “...I can't ask you to wait around for me to get my shit together. But maybe someday we'll get lucky and our timing will work out.” He reached out to grab Okuyasu's hand and gave it a squeeze. “I'm... sorry I can't give you what you want.”

“Aw, man, don't apologize for that...” Dammit... he was going to start crying again. Okuyasu shook his head and blinked rapidly to stave off the waterworks. “I'm just lucky as hell to have a friend like you, Josuke.” And he meant it, truly, although the idea of being just friends after awakening to all these deeper feelings... after being physically intimate... it tied his stomach in knots. Subconsciously he tightened his grip on Josuke's waist.

Josuke turned his head, buried his face in Okuyasu's jacket. “I'm the lucky one,” he insisted, “You're the best friend I've ever had.”

Okuyasu wasn't sure what to say to that, though he was positive that as soon as he opened his mouth he would no longer be able to keep his composure. So for a long while the two just sat together, uncertain of anything beyond this moment, this room.

Eventually Josuke moved a hand to rest on Okuyasu's thigh, causing the other to glance down at him, and – Oh, oh no. Josuke had that look in his eyes, the one that always preceded their lips crashing together. But hadn't he just said...?

“Oku,” he breathed, leaning in a bit, “I wish it was just you and me. Nobody else to worry about or get in the way.”

“I...” Okuyasu swallowed, unsure of what to do or what Josuke was getting at. “What? Who...?”

The moment was brought to an abrupt halt when, poetically and right on cue, the office door creaked open. Mikitaka poked his head inside. “Knock, knock,” he said quietly.

Josuke sat upright as Okuyasu cleared his throat and shook off his emotions. “Y'know,” he growled, “Yer supposed to actually knock. It ain't polite to just barge in like that.”

“Understood, but I think you ought to come out here. There's someone looking for Rohan. It's... a bit of a... special situation.”

Okuyasu huffed, though part of him was grateful for the distraction. He untangled himself from Josuke and slid off the desk, walking into the store with his hands in his pockets and shoulders drawn up. His friends followed behind, watching curiously.

As he stepped into the main room, realization hit Okuyasu like a truck. The young man who had walked in and was looking around at the store – occasionally quirking a brow and smirking to himself – was none other than Toyohiro, the same guy Reimi had been... hanging around with lately. He was one of those weird, “free-gan” hippie kids that was always couch-hopping around the scene and crashing parties; the ones who would insert themselves into social gatherings and leave before the bill came. Okuyasu didn't have anything personal against any of them, except that they always seemed to make everyone feel awkward. But at this particular moment, he was shocked and furious that the guy would dare to show his face at Dark Pink and ask for Rohan.

“Can I help you?” Okuyasu asked, keeping his distance.

The guy looked over, studied him for a moment. “Sorry, I'm looking for the owner? Rohan Kishibe?”

“He's not in today, but I can help ya with whatever. If it's music you're lookin' for, you're better off askin' me anyway.”

Toyohiro chuckled, strolled closer. He was sporting a newsie cap, an oversized scarf, an open vest over his shirt; all with dreadfully clashing patterns. Okuyasu suspected that the pieces of this outfit had all been found through dumpster-diving. “No, I'm good on music, actually. I work over at Tower Records – you must know it? It's funny, usually when they come into town, places like this can't seem to keep up...” He shrugged. “Anyway. I was just hoping to speak with Rohan about personal matters.”

“Uhh.” Okuyasu narrowed his eyes a bit. Without thinking, he widened his stance. “I can take a message.”

“I just wanted to... sort things out with him. He won't leave Reimi alone, you see. Won't stop calling, and he must have been creeping around her place, left a mix CD on her doorstep...” Toyohiro shook his head. “I get what he's going through. Reimi's a very special lady. But I like to think that if I were in his position, I could respect her decision... Y'know what I'm saying?”

Okuyasu just stared for a moment, at a loss for how to deal with this situation. Should he tell the guy off? Beat the hell out of him? Perhaps just stare until he left? It was his second crisis already this morning, when usually the biggest challenge he faced was which record to put on.

Suddenly Okuyasu felt Josuke and Mikitaka flank him for support and the weight on his shoulders lessened a bit. Goddamn, he loved those guys.

Josuke stepped in to take the lead, leaning forward with hands on his hips, the look on his face deeply unimpressed. “It takes a lot of balls to confront someone face-to-face, I'll give you that. But kicking a man when he's down, that's low. And not very smart to do in front of three of his friends who could kick your ass.”

(Secretly, Okuyasu felt a little giddy hearing the taunt. There was something about Josuke serving attitude that was profoundly hot to him.)

“Fellas.” Toyohiro smirked, put his hands up in front of his chest. “I don't have any problem with the three of you. Like I said, I just want to talk to Kishibe.”

Okuyasu took a step closer. “Even if he was here, you think we'd let you anywhere near him?”

“I'm not here to fight.” The smug look on Toyohiro's face was finally replaced with a loathsome scowl. “And honestly, I'm surprised you'd defend him. From what Reimi tells me, he's not very respectful even to those he calls friends.”

“The joke is on you,” Miktaka piped up, quiet, calm. “I don't think he calls any of us friends. I'm not even sure he remembers my name.” At this anticlimactic observation, everyone went quiet and stared at the blonde for a moment. He looked around at them each in turn, blinking, then adjusted his glasses. “...What I mean is, we care about him because... he's good deep down. Right?”

Okuyasu made a so-so gesture with his hand. “Eh...”

“Well then... He has his moments, at least.”

“And he's in love!” Okuyasu interjected aggressively, turning to take a step towards Toyohiro.

“And I've certainly met worse!” Josuke added.

“This is pathetic,” mumbled Toyohiro. He rolled his eyes.

“You're pathetic, ya hipster rebound schmuck. Why don't you get outta our store?”

“Gladly, but I'm just going to come back tomorrow. If this place is even still in business tomorrow. Someone needs to teach Kishibe a thing or two about boundaries.”

“Oh, I'll show ya boundaries...” Okuyasu muttered, cracking his knuckles.

Toyohiro tensed. “Is that a threat?”

“A promise.”

“I'm right behind ya,” Josuke said quietly. “Been a while since I've had to knock some sense into someone...”

“Me too,” Mikitaka chimed in. “Sir, I don't want to fight you, but I'm afraid I will have to if you start trouble with my friends here.”

“Unbelievable,” Toyohiro scoffed. He took a step forward as well, though he faltered somewhat, betraying the lack of certainty in his challenge. “Is this really how you want it to go down? I'd happily take all three of you on at once! I'll have you know that I teach stage combat workshops at the community theater and I–”

But he'd long overstayed his welcome, as far as Okuyasu was concerned. He lunged forward and grabbed Toyohiro by the collar of his shirt, lifting the other off the ground and then reeling his fist back to strike.

“Eeeek! Wait wait, stop!” Toyohiro shrieked, cringing away. “I submit! I submit!”

Huh. That was easy enough.

“...tch.” Okuyasu dropped him, let the intruder fall unceremoniously to the floor while he turned on his heel and retreated back towards his friends. “Just get the hell out.”

Toyohiro stared up from his spot on the floor, his chest heaving, eyes wide. “Y-you were really going to hit me,” he called out. “Why? Why would you put up so much of a fight for someone like Kishibe?”

Okuyasu came to a stop. “Didn't I tell ya already? The guy's in love.” Okuyasu looked over his shoulder. “Look, I'm a dumbass and it took me a while to figure this out myself. So I'll spell it out for ya. I've seen that guy open up master pressings of studio demos. I've seen him spend an entire shift tryin' ta draw somethin' just right. I've seen him take his first damn bite at Trattoria Trussardi. And none of it comes close to the way he looks at Reimi.”

Everyone was frozen in place now, all three watching him with the same shocked expression. Honestly, even Okuyasu felt surprised by the words coming out of his own mouth. He exhaled sharply through his nose, started walking back towards Toyohiro, who recoiled a bit.

“So knowin' that, you hafta understand that I'm not real thrilled about some weirdo swoopin' in on Reimi when she's vulnerable, makin' Rohan feel like shit, and then comin' down here to try'n rub it in.”

Toyohiro swallowed, stared up at the man looming over him. “...I wasn't trying to swoop in,” he said in a tiny voice. Okuyasu just glared. “Really! She was just... so nice to me when we first met. Most of the assholes at the clubs around here just write me off. And, well... I met a pretty girl who treated me kindly and I asked her out. Why is that such a bad thing?”

Okuyasu looked away, tried to ignore the fact that maybe Toyohiro's feelings were valid too. After all, Okuyasu knew first hand just how sweet and charming Reimi was... and what it felt like to have someone special giving you their attention...

“Shit, man,” Toyohiro went on, “Look, okay, I didn't know it was... like that with Kishibe. I'm serious. I just figured him as your typical, jealous ex who can't take no for an answer.”

“Well, he can't... But dude, Reimi always brought out the best in him. And honestly–” Okuyasu looked over at his two friends now, “You guys don't even know half the shit he's helped her through over the years...” He shook his head, sighed, then reluctantly offered a hand to Toyohiro.

Toyohiro accepted the help and got to his feet, looking timid now. “... I'm sorry to bring all these bad vibes your way. I just wanted to get the guy off our damn backs. And I...” he clicked his tongue, “...If I'm honest, I kind of got the feeling that maybe Reimi still has feelings for him, too. But it sounds like she was so unhappy in that relationship! I don't want to see her make a mistake by running back to him, just out of... I don't know... familiarity.” He frowned, crossed his arms.

“Yeh, I know what you're sayin'.” Okuyasu rubbed his face, pinched the bridge of his nose. Something about Toyohiro's words felt like blows to the gut, but he didn't have time to analyze that feeling right now. “Relationship stuff... it's hard. It's... messy. So let me strike a deal with ya. I'll get on Rohan's case about not acting like such a psycho. If he wants to win her back, he can't be harassin' her all the time. You're right about that much, at least. But just... don't show up here again, okay? 'Cause if you do, you can be sure the three of us will kick yer ass from here to next Sunday. That fair?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Uh...” Toyohiro glanced around at them all, looking troubled, as if he were weighing if he should say something else on his mind. “Sorry. I'll... I should go.”

“Please,” said Josuke from somewhere behind Okuyasu.

“Right.” Toyohiro backed up a few steps, eyeing the three of them nervously one last time before he turned and fled from the store.

Once he was gone, Okuyasu slunk over to the counter and collapsed against it, groaning. “For fuck's sake...” It had certainly been an eventful morning so far. He looked up at the clock.

At least there was only about seven more hours left in the work day. Fuck.

He covered his face with his hands and groaned again. After a moment he felt Josuke's arms wrap around him in a hug. “That guy was a bit much, eh?” his friend offered gently.

“Was that totally stupid of me? I almost just broke someone's face defendin' Rohan's honor, of all people.”

Smaller, more tentative arms joined in the hug. “If it helps, I believe you were defending his honor and Reimi's,” Mikitaka said.

“Not like either of 'em needs it. Heh. Wouldn't wanna get on either of their bad sides.” Okuyasu exhaled, relaxed into the embrace a bit. “But... now I'm not so sure that Toyohiro dude is as much of an asshole as I thought.”

“I mean, he's definitely kind of an asshole,” Josuke replied, “And Reimi can do so much better.”

“I actually think he seems interesting,” said Mikitaka, and Okuyasu could feel Josuke's head turn, surely to stare daggers at the blonde. “I mean – Not as a potential romantic partner for Reimi. But in general. I've seen him around before, you know. He lives – how do you call it? – Off the grid? I bet he has a unique perspective on life.”

“Maybe you should date him,” Okuyasu grumbled.

“Hmmm.” Mikitaka's hug slackened as he considered the possibility.

“Hey,” Josuke broke in, trying to steer the car back onto the road, “Okuyasu, I think you could use something lighter to think about. What about your band? Did you show Mikitaka those lyrics I wrote?”

“Oh!” Miki exclaimed, stepping away from their dogpile to observe Josuke properly. “You wrote lyrics?”

“I sure did.”

Okuyasu felt Josuke's arms leave him and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh. I actually got 'em right here...” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieved the lined paper in question. He handed it over to Mikitaka, careful to avoid meeting either of his friends' eyes directly. “Check it out, Miki, it's amazin'. As if Josuke could write somethin' that wasn't. But uh, just gimme a sec to grab my uh, notebook from the office.”

He nodded and stalked off to the back room again, all too aware of that uneasy weight in his guts that seemed to increase with each step. Inside the office he leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes. Today really, really wasn't going how he'd expected; hadn't been a welcome respite to poke gently at the emotional turmoil he'd been wrestling with.

He glanced through the window, watching as Mikitaka pored over the written words and Josuke shyly accepted his praise. Okuyasu loved those two, loved them like brothers or more than that; but right now he wished they'd just disappear. They were too happy, to unburdened with thoughts of love and where they fit in to the world; Thoughts like those which were crashing down all around Okuyasu like waves, filling his lungs, drowning him. Thoughts of Josuke, of Reimi, of Rohan, Toyohiro, Keicho, Akira...

Damn. What he wouldn't give to be at home with a sad record and a bottle of whiskey.

[star-birthmark]

I like your writing style!! do you think you could do a little reader x okuyasu finding out that his fem s/o is pregnant scenario?

Okay, let me just say this warmed by heart beyond belief. I’m so glad you requested this! So without further ado: 

I Won’t Lie to You: Okuyasu x Fem!Reader (2k words)

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

It was a quiet evening in the town of Morioh. The first leaves were beginning to change color and fall from the trees, the sun was setting behind the sea’s horizon, the birds were nestling in for a good night’s rest, and the townspeople were returning home, that last fact making you extremely nervous as you paced back and forth in your living room. Oh god… what was he going to say? The two of you weren’t trying to start a family at this point in your lives, it just sorts of well, happened. He had just gotten a raise, you two were celebrating and one thing to another, and now you’re pregnant with your first kid and oh god what if he gets upset with you? 

You were standing by the front door, waiting to hear the jiggling of his keys and his calling your name with all the love and adoration in the world, unaware of the jaw-dropping news you had to tell him. Your house phone blares through the living room and you rush to pick it up, only to feel your heart drop as your husband explained that he’d be working a late night. Great. Now you have to sit with your nerves for another couple hours. What could you do to wait that might calm you down…  

Kneeling in front of a small altar in one of the bedrooms, you reach a hand over to a candle in the corner and light the wick, letting the soft glow cast light over the picture hanging above it. The pictured man encased within was one that your husband had chosen himself, said that it was one of the few pictures he could find with his brother smiling. Next to it laid the worn family picture of your in-laws all those years ago. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you carefully ran a finger against your love’s face when he was just a kid. It struck you how long the two of you had known each other, all the way from grade school to now being married, to new surprises now waiting for him. You close your eyes and clasp your hands together and turn back to the portrait of the man in front of you. Keicho… he was almost like a big brother to you, and his death almost hit you just as hard as it hit Okuyasu. Still, you reassured him that Keicho would always watch over the two of you.  When the two of you got married, the two of you in your hearts knew that Keicho must have set the two of you up. When the two of you made it your project to renovate the rundown house just down the road from the Higashikatas, you felt that was what Keicho would have wanted. You stand up slowly from the altar, and your smile turns melancholy.

 If only he were around to be an uncle. 

The lock twisting at the front of the house caught your attention and you peeked your head out to see the light of your life make it through the doorway. You felt a weight place down on your chest, but in your heart, you were just so happy to see him that you couldn’t help but rush to the door to greet. 

“(y/n)! I’m ho-oh hello. Fancy seeing you here…” 

You give him a shy smile, letting him inside from the cold fall air and helping him take off his coat, hanging it up in the closet for him. Without him needing to say a word, you take off his scarf and reach up to on your toes to place a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. Leaving your charming (and red in the face) husband still speechlessly in love, you move from his nose to his lips and give him a quick peck before you shy away to the living room, leaving him in the hallway dumbfounded. A small pout came to Okuyasu Nijimura’s lips as he scratched the side of his head in thought. Had he forgotten something? It wasn’t an anniversary… or a birthday… 

Setting his briefcase down, Okuyasu watched you carefully as you set the table for dinner, his adorable pout still on display. Walking behind you, your husband wrapped his arms around your shoulders and nestled his face into the side of your neck, sighing in fatigue. 

“Why are you so good to me (y/n)? You’re sweeter to me today than usual. I didn’t even think that was possible?” 

You bit your lip anxiously. You were sweeter to him to get him in a good mood after a long day of work so you could drop the news on him. You turn to him and place a kiss on his temple, turning to whisper in his ear, causing your adorable husband to blush in anticipation. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  Okuyasu rolled his eyes and turned you around. 

“Come on… it’s got to be something.”

“Nope. I just happen to be in a good mood today and you seem too tired to be in a bad one. I’m no better than usual.” You sigh, staring at the floor. 

“Come on (y/n)… I know you better than that. All this time that you and I have known each other, you can’t keep a secret from me.” Gently, he takes your chin into his hand and has you look at him, worries flooding over his as he sees that your own are cloudy with tears. 

“What’s wrong dear?” You quickly shake your head and rub the tears out of your eyes. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t lie to you. Okuyasu I… um… I spoke with Keicho earlier. I haven’t told you yet but… he’s blessed the both of us once again.”

You shut your eyes closed, hoping your husband had enough mental fortitude to figure it out for himself. 

Of course, he did not. 

“Blessed us?” You nodded slowly and take his hand and place it on your stomach. 

“Yes…  we keep saying he watches over us. Well, I think he wants us to keep moving forward with our life together. And the beginning of someone else’s.” You look up, ready to see recognition on his face, only to be met with his almost charming confusion. You sighed nervously a little bit and put your hand over his. 

“He’s telling us he wants to be an…uncle…” 

Your breath hitches and your husband can feel you tense up under his fingers. Silence hangs in the air above your heads, and you wait for him to say something, anything, to break your nerves in two and tell you that everything was going to be alright and that he was just as excited as you were. 

Instead, from your valiant spouse, you received a, “wait what?” 

You rolled your eyes and let out a small nervous chuckle. “I’m pregnant you idiot!” 

You smiled a bit seeing his eyes widen finally in realization and he stares down at his hand on your stomach and suddenly it clicks in his head and oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Okuyasu grabbed your shoulders, causing you to stiffen in nerves, wondering what he was going to say. 

“Is it mine?” You watch his face, realizing that he was genuinely serious in his stupid question. You scoffed playfully and smacked him on the chest. 

“Of course it’s yours you moron. Who’s else would it b-” 

Your complaint was cut off by your husband’s lips crashing onto yours while his hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, his immense strength lifting you and spinning you around as your lips and hearts did all the communication necessary. When the two of you finally broke your kiss, Okuyasu brought you into his chest, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the tremendous pace of his beating heart. You turn to look up at him, both of you beaming. You smile and reach up, brushing away a tear that was now forming in the corner of your husband’s eye. 

“What’s wrong… you’re not upset are you?” 

“(y/n)… I won’t lie to you either. I was so nervous about what you were going to say to me. But now that I know, I’m even more nervous now that I know I’m going to be a father. But I’m… I’m- God I don’t even know how to say it.” You look up at him, watching him avert his gaze to look down at the floor. You brush a flyaway hair out of his face and smile, letting him take his time. 

“(y/n), my brother, my dad and I, we.. we’ve lived in this little town for our whole lives. Well, of course, you knew that; you’ve grown up right alongside us but… When my mom died, my father wanted nothing more to get out of this town to forget about her. But my brother had a dream one day that he’d settle down in this little town and raise his kids here and well… to think that at least one of us is going to get to do that I just… oh man. I love you (y/n), and I-I swear I’ll work ten times harder than I already am, cause now we got another person coming and we gotta prepare and I’ll be around whenever I can and I gotta let everyone know. I feel over the moon really, but so nervous but I can’t help but cry when I think about it I never thought it would be happening to m-”

Now it was your turn in interrupt, giving him in a soft kiss as you brush away his tears once more. Moving away, you took his hand in yours and stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, an action that always calmed him down. 

“Dear… you’re rambling again.” Okuyasu chuckled and muttered, “thank you.” 

“…I love you Okuyasu.”

“I love you too (y/n).”

A new silence hung in the room before it was interrupted yet again by a loud banging on the door. Confused, Okuyasu looked at your blushing, embarrassed face before you went to open it. Your favorite tall police officer and short school teacher stood in the doorway, the two of us excited to hear the outcome of your night. You giggled, playing stupid to their appearance. 

“Good evening officer Higashikata, Mr. Hirose. How can I help you?” Both of them rolled their eyes. 

“Does he know? Does he know?!?!” Okuyasu looked out the doorway confused. 

“You told them?” You smiled, your cheeks bright red. 

“I had to tell someone dear. I was so excited.”

“So he does know?!” 

“Yes… he does.” 

Josuke rushed into the house, giving his best friend a crashing slap on the back and a supportive smile. You watch the two of them with a lovesick look before your eyes widened as you heard Koichi call down the street. 

“Hey everyone guess what! The Nijimuras are gonna have a kid!”

“Wait but Koichi- oh my god.”

Both you and Okuyasu walk out to your porch to see the neighbors headed to your doorway to congratulate you, surrounding you both with more love and support than either of you knew what to do with. Others offered to babysit when the time finally came. Others offered home-cooked meals, the older women telling you you’d become too tired to cook eventually. Okuyasu’s received his congratulations as well, both Josuke and Koichi joking to others that their best friend was finally locked down for good. The two of you turned to each other with a bright smile. That was just another thing Keicho knew for the two of you. Even if he was gone, you two had a whole town’s worth of family ready to take care of you both throughout everything. People that would be there for you, who your brother-in-law knew would be uncles and aunts and grandparents just the same was he would have been.

The moon laid high over the town of Morioh by the time everyone had retreated back to their homes after wishing you all congratulations. The two of you finally lay your head on the pillows in your shared bed, ready to fall asleep as the radio played its last slow tunes of the evening, Kai Harada wishing the giant family of Morioh a goodnight. 

[b4kuch1n]

two ghosts in Morioh

another day of running around taking care of businesses with my mom. Got some down time in the afternoon and spent it on this. yes Im a fluff writer now. somebody take me out the back

warning for non-plot, terrible poetry (Im serious. Ive never written a poem in english before. its not too nice to the hand), a filler OC thrown in on the spot, lotsa outta-nowhere headcanons, and all else possibly applicable. 

Read on AO3 

Okuyasu finally picked up.

Which was a good thing, because Josuke didn't wanna seem fussy or overbearing. 'twas a lost cause anyway, his mom would tell him, given that he had been anxious ever since he came home from the supposed double date that afternoon, and had walked from one end of the hall to the other over forty time (yes, she counted up until forty), mumbling to himself, hands firmly in his pants' pockets because he knew the moment he stopped holding it tight he would ruin his pomp by running his hand through his hair in frustration. An emotion that he caused to himself, his mom would remind him, because he refused to just walk over to Okuyasu's house and knock.

When the boy in question finally picked up, Josuke was a bit stiff from the draft in the hallway as well as from the tension built up by being stubborn. Okuyasu's voice only just managed to break through.

“Josuke?”

He sounded a bit hoarse. “Yeah, dude, I'm here,” Josuke said. The tension didn't leave him immediately like he hoped. “You didn't come.”

“Fuck, sorry about that. I'm jus'... 'm not in the best mood right now. Didn't wanna ruin it for you guys.”

“Shit, what happened? You okay?” Josuke could hear something fell on the floor with a metallic clunk. “What's that?”

“Oh it's-- 's the paint can. I'm fixin' up big bro's room upstairs. Been meaning to for a while now so... It's.” Okuyasu trailed off.

Josuke felt his shoulders stiffen up a bit more.

“It's some'n to do.”

Josuke bit his lip. After a moment of consciously picking off all traces of anxiety from his manners, he said, calmly, “I'm gonna come over.”

“No, dude, y'don't have to!” Okuyasu immediately barked, with something like panic in his tone. “I'm a bummer right now,” he added, almost sheepishly. “It's dumb, it'll go away on its own. Jus' some'n from the class.”

“Don't even think of it as me coming over to comfort you if that's better.” Josuke had to actively try to stay nonchalant now. “I'm helping with the room fixin'. It's gonna take the rest of the night with just you. That cool?”

He just caught his free hand moving towards his head on its own when Okuyasu sighed and he could hear the paint can being picked up. “Fine. I'm gonna be upstairs, let yaself in when you're over.”

By August 1999, Okuyasu had been sleeping in the guest room downstairs for ten months.

Keicho was a private person, and nobody could blame him at that. No kid would want to leave their toys trailing about when their father was so quick to anger. Keicho had faced so much of that misdirected rage, had put himself between his father and his younger brother so many times, that anything he had that wasn't broken he held on with an almost death grip. His routines, his CD collection, his rules, his own anger. He never learned to let go, and Okuyasu, whom Morioh had given more chances than it ever did his brother, had been feeling something like pity for that, and then guilty for pitying his brother.

He didn't really want to use Keicho's room again, especially when he never got his brother's permission. When Keicho had left balancing the book in Okuyasu's hand, their life became a clash between Okuyasu's fussing about trying to take care of things and Keicho's own rhythm and order, the solution to which that they came up with being that Keicho got the entirety of the second floor to himself. Okuyasu didn't mind – everything was simple with him, really – but after Keicho's death he felt even more out of place in that part of the house.

“It's fine if you wanna seal it off, dude,” Josuke told him one evening when he stayed the night, “you're the one living here. It's not like people know or care about that stuff, either way.” Josuke was smart, but he also believed in courtesy and manners even though he had been subjected to so much of the opposite of that, and it made for a strange kind of trust in humanity. One that was different from Okuyasu's own.

So in the end he decided to only seal Keicho's room. He had been slowly packing everything his brother left behind in the house into small carboard boxes and stashing them in the hallway. He wanted to keep a whole afternoon and evening free just to fix up the room itself, but he didn't think today would be it.

“Yeah, Koichi actually steered me home the moment we were sure you wouldn't show,” Josuke said mid-sweep. “I don't think Yukako mind. Actually I'm pretty sure Yukako doesn't really want me there third wheeling them. Gotta say I was about the same.”

“Sorry for leaving you hangin',” Okuyasu repeated, just as apologetic as when he said it the first time.

“It's not your fault you aren't well, dude,” Josuke stood up straight, free hand in his pocket. “Though a word beforehand would be good. But you were home late from the class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Goto-sensei holding you up again?”

“Nah, he's nice.” He would be, after Josuke and Okuyasu dragged him out of some serious troubles last month. He was also a nice man in general. Okuyasu thought his writing style really didn't reflect that.

Josuke raised an eyebrow at his answer. Well, Josuke would have a different impression of Mister Goto Azuma, moderately famous novelist, given that the one who had to take a pen in the arm to grab the man (then under a Stand's control) was him and not Okuyasu. That kind of viciousness must keep people wary for a long time. Not to mention the apology gift they got was a place in Goto's ten-hour creative writing course organized by the uni, which was of no use to Josuke, but which Okuyasu snatched right up.

Outside of that event though, Goto-sensei was a mild-mannered, if a bit emotional and wordy person. He had anguish in his heart, sure, but he told Okuyasu once in class, in the tone of someone who was citing their name and age, that he wanted to love everything and anything more than he wanted to wallow in his sadness, so he channeled all of it into his writing and left his personal life free for his other emotions. Okuyasu found that a good way to do things as any.

“I'm gonna trust you on that,” Josuke said after a stretch of silence. Okuyasu grinned. “Anyway, something happened during the writing class then?”

“Yeah-- well, nah, but yeah.” Okuyasu rubbed his hands nervously under Josuke's confused look. “I mean, kinda? Goto-sensei gave us a prompt, and then I wrote something sad, and it bummed me out. 's all.”

Josuke's eyes grew wide. “Oh,” he said, “huh.”

“Yeah, it's dumb. Tolja don't mind it.”

“It's not dumb if it bums you out, dude.” Josuke leaned the broom against the desk and stepped closer to Okuyasu. His pomp looked almost plastic-ish under the buzzing light of the room. Okuyasu blinked when he held his biceps with both his hands. “I like you happy, Okuyasu. We gotta go there somehow, and I'm not a waiting man.”

Okuyasu looked at Josuke, eyes somehow brighter than the light should've made them, hands holding him firm as if willing him to believe. As if that had ever been necessary. He took a deep breath, and broke out in a grin.

“Thought so. You're a musical man.”

“Hell yeah I am.” The grin crept up onto Josuke's face, and he dragged Okuyasu in for a quick hug. “So, what's that piece you wrote today about?”

“I mean, you can read it.”

It must be impossible for Josuke's eyes to grow wider than this. This was maximum wide eye for him. “Really?”

“'s not fine art or some'n, but if you're cool with that, why the hell not. Wait here.”

Josuke waited in Keicho's half-cleaned room while Okuyasu went downstairs to fetch his notebook. Goto-sensei didn't care what his students did with what they wrote after class (“It's yours,” he had said, with passion, “and me telling you what to do with what's inherently yours is against everything I live for. Any experience you have with your own writing is deeply personal and unique, and if that includes setting your drafts on fire and inhaling the smoke, who am I to keep that from you?” He seemed to actually got misty-eyed at that idea.), but Okuyasu liked the man, and he thought keeping the things he wrote in his class in order was a way to show respect to a good teacher. Or it could at least make up for his terrible handwriting.

He flipped through the notebook as he went back upstairs. Man, he wrote more than he thought he did.

“Here,” he handed the notebook – opened to the correct page – to Josuke, who had finished sweeping the room and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in a subdued excitement. Josuke seemed extra careful with his hold on the thing.

“It's a poem?” Okuyasu didn't think that was actually meant to be a question, but he faltered a bit nonetheless.

“It's-- yeah. You aren't into that?”

“Dude, I barely read actual literature no matter what kind, that's not the thing. I'm just... poems are supposed to be even more about emotions than, like, novels and shit, right? I, uh...”

Josuke bit his lip. Okuyasu tried to follow the thread of logic.

“Goto-sensei said our writing is whatever we will it to be. If ya worry this won't be manly and cool, I'm gonna. I'm gonna will it into being for ya.”

“It's not that, dummy.” Josuke smacked him over the head with the notebook. He was smiling again though, so Okuyasu didn't mind. “I just don't think I can get the whole experience without you, like, walking me through it. Since you're the one with the emotions in this poem and all. So can you...”

Okuyasu grabbed the notebook. He looked at Josuke, and then at the words on the page between them, and then tentatively finished that hanging thought. “...recite it for ya?”

“Forget it if it bums you out again, okay?” Josuke held his hands up. “I'm cool either way. I wanna read it properly, sure, but if it's gonna ruin the night for you then forget it.”

Okuyasu stood there with his own notebook in his hand, with his boyfriend, in his brother's room that they were cleaning. He looked at Josuke, and then up at the buzzing light, and then at Keicho's CD collection on the shelf, newly dusted.

Finally he took a deep breath and said, “I'm not gonna hold onto it like that, dude.” And then he took Josuke's hand and said, “Let's come up to the roof for a bit.”

They left Keicho's room behind and went up to the attic, from where they climbed their way awkwardly up onto the Nijimuras' newly re-tiled roof. August was too early to feel chilly at night in Morioh, but there were winds, and the sky was wide open. Okuyasu thought it was a good place as any to give the poem a reading.

They settled on the warm tiles, and then Okuyasu had to stand up to go get a flashlight, and when he came back to the roof Josuke was still there – as if he would go away the moment Okuyasu blinked – the notebook balanced on his thigh.

“Ready,” Josuke said once Okuyasu had sit back down snug next to him, partly as a question and partly as a confirmation of his own status, and Okuyasu nodded.

“Alright.”

Okuyasu had never recited a poem before. His mom was a storyteller when she was alive, but there was a long stretch of time during which her conditions worsened slowly and the occasions lessened until both her and the stories were gone. His dad wasn't a wordy man, not outside of anger and grief. Keicho really would rather have silence than a human voice outside of his own, and again Okuyasu couldn't blame him for that. Or even question it, really, not when Keicho had his CDs and treasured them so. Outside of all that, Okuyasu had also never been good at school. He had other things to do, and the few literature classes he actually sat in for never saw him chosen by a teacher to read anything out loud from the textbook.

So, Okuyasu didn't really know what he was doing, no. But he was also a simple man, and right now it was doing it or not doing it. And Josuke had casted his vote – the only one that counted here and now.

“It's called 1999,” he said, and found his voice a bit raspy. He didn't figure out to clear his throat.

Cigarette butt on the ground

he chose one to pick up

and hold like a torch

Hand over head

Whispers like smoke

flow

1999

numbers he carried

one

in his left pocket

on the pad

along the line

into the waves

it's important, that's what he said

Cigarette butt in the air

His hand red

His eyes red

through them, the sky orange

twilight is for a while,

if statues are the same

1999

replays dissolve

into statics

into waves

away

one

on his lips

I didn't mean it like that,

or was it

I never told him,

or even

I don't think he knows,

that's what he said

Cigarette butt against the sky

futile

1999

variables

one

dissolved into the waves

my name is doubt,

and his I never got

1999

I met two ghosts in Morioh.

They were quiet a long time after that. When Josuke spoke up, he sounded like he just cried a bit. “Dude, that's so fucking sad.”

Okuyasu tried to keep himself from shining the flashlight on Josuke to see if he really had been crying. “For real? I don' even know what it's exactly about anymore. Jus' a buncha, uh, concepts put together randomly.”

“It got emotions into me, alright? So it's good to me, deal with it.”

“It makes you sad!”

“It's good sad though. Like listening to a late artist's album sad.” Josuke threw an arm around Okuyasu's shoulders. “That's how art is.”

“Sure,” Okuyasu harrumphed, but then smiled to himself, just a bit.

The two sat there on the roof well into the night. At one point they found their hands intertwined; Okuyasu let himself lean into the contact, flashlight and notebook laid aside, essentially forgotten. Late night breeze felt like sleep.

“The point of that poem is that I love you,” he said, and let it be.

The hand in his own tightened, and Josuke replied, with all the conviction his being could store, “I know, dude. Love you too.”