Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9002893.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Giorno_Giovanna/Kujo_Jotaro
  Character:
      Giorno_Giovanna, Kujo_Jotaro, Guido_Mista, DIO_(mentioned), Kujo_Jotaro's
      Wife_(mentioned)
  Additional Tags:
      Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Blow_Jobs, Cheating, Incest
  Series:
      Part 1 of You_Will_Never_Look_Back
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-24 Words: 4742
****** Cagamosis ******
by starfrutta
Summary
     One thing Jotaro had learnt throughout the duration of the meal was
     that Giorno was scarily good at reading people. He was not so much a
     lie detector as someone who could see withheld truths no matter how
     hard one tried to mask them.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Naples, Italy 2002
Giorno Giovanna looked a lot different compared to the boy in the polaroid
picture Jotaro had flipped over in his hands just a year and a half ago. He was
a vision of the man that came before him, from the golden curls atop his head
like a crown down to the way he held himself with practised ease. Jotaro fixed
his glare on the don, letting an unnerving rush of déjà vu pass over him like a
colossal wave.
The room was dark, and strangely so for it being mid-afternoon. The curtains
half drawn and the foliage surrounding the villas perimeter had a hand in the
low brightness no doubt. Giorno sat in the centre, reclined on the velvet seat
a couple feet back from his desk. His underboss, Guido Mista, loomed in the
corner, fingers drumming the grip of his pistol.
A leathery scent possessed the room, perhaps from all the books bound in the
material or maybe the chesterfield armchairs afore the mantelpiece.
Jotaro watched Giorno absently slide a silver ring along his index finger, the
one on his opposite thumb glinting in the low sunlight, just as Mista’s pistol
did.
“I’ve come, at the request of the Speedwagon foundation, to retrieve the stand
arrow from you, Giorno Giovanna.” Jotaro spoke, eyes trained on the criminal
metres ahead of him.
Giorno inhaled audibly, holding his breath for a few moments before exhaling
sharply. He lifted his bejewelled hands from his lap, folding them under his
chin as though deep in thought. His brows were set low, light enough in colour
not to remind Jotaro too much of the boy’s father, though angled steeply enough
to evoke a sense of familiarity.
“The stand arrow belongs to nobody.” Giorno stated finally, “I’ve experienced
its power and I am confident I can guard it myself, though I’d like to hear
what you have to say… Convince me, Kujo.”
Mista shifted, tightening his hold on the weapon stuffed under his belt. Jotaro
lifted a hand to grip at the rim of his hat, sighing and muttering under his
breath. He strode forward and Mista did the same until Giorno lifted a hand to
halt him. Jotaro placed his hands, palms down, on the desk afore him with a
reprimanding force. Icy blue gazes locked in a challenging psychological duel
that neither were willing to lose.
“You’re a mob boss, Giovanna. We know what the arrow can do in the wrong hands.
The Speedwagon foundation can keep innocent citizen safe from this. I won’t
take no for an answer.” Jotaro straightened, Mista’s eyes fixed on him as
intently as Giorno’s own. “You might be able to keep the arrow safe but your
position is too dangerous. We can’t allow for the arrows power to be abused
again.”
Giorno flashed a smile, cracked his knuckles and stood. “You’re a good man
Jotaro.” He rounded the desk, heels clacking on the wooden panels below them.
He came to a standstill a couple feet away from Jotaro and with a calm and
serene expression said: “Consider the arrow yours.”
Jotaro bowed his head slightly and shortly in acceptance, readying himself to
respond though Giorno spoke before he had the chance.
“Perhaps,” mused the don, arms folded and resting lazily against his jutted-out
hip “we can discuss further arrangements over a meal. After all,” he paused,
“I’d very much like to speak to the man who killed my father.”
*
Jotaro watched as Giorno lazily spun spaghetti around his fork, the silver
utensil glinting under the dim golden light of the restaurant. The rich red
décor gave a regal air to the establishment and the low lighting added to the
sensuality of the place. Giorno fit in quite well amongst the crimson and gold
interior, chandeliers and candles and roses littered about with precise
intention.
Jotaro didn’t care much for foreign cuisine but Italian food was undeniably
good. He wasn’t entirely sure what the dish he’d chosen was called, though
Giorno had recommended it and he hadn’t held any qualms about his advice when
it came to this particular area.
Regarding the gangster across the table in the secluded corner of the
restaurant, Jotaro lifted the wine glass to his lips, tasting the red liquid
and not especially enjoying the bitter taste. Giorno swallowed a mouthful and
looked up from his plate, taking the napkin provided to dab at his mouth before
speaking.
“Four months ago, I spoke to a woman who knew my father—” Giorno straightened
“—I learnt a lot from her yet there are still gaps in my knowledge.”
Jotaro continued to observe the illustrious don carefully, his tight-fitting
suit in its dark blue shade with even darker lapels practically gleaming in the
subdued light. He had anticipated this topic arising soon enough and was not
wrong.
“I have access to a great amount of information in my position, Dr Kujo, though
you understand there are still things even I cannot find out for myself.”
–Giorno idly pushed some spaghetti around its opulent dish with a fork— “This
woman I met, she told me of my father’s history with the Joestar family. She
knew little about it but made sure to emphasise its importance.”
Jotaro drummed the fingers of his left hand atop the table, right hand stilled
around a knife.
“I thought maybe you, Dr Kujo, could expand on this for me.” Giorno appeared to
have finished speaking for the fork he had been toying with was readied with a
mouthful which he proceeded to lift and push past his lips.
Sighing, Jotaro resumed assaulting the fish on the platter facing him with the
silver cutlery and considered his reply. “Dio and my great great grandfather,
Jonathan Joestar, were brothers.” Jotaro inhaled the aromatic musk of the
restaurant, pausing to take in the classical Italian music humming in the
background. “Dio was adopted, obviously.”
Giorno nodded and swallowed, so casually it was as though he’d heard the story
a thousand times before and had tired of it. “I have ties to your family, do I
not? Would you explain this to me?”
Jotaro had returned to his meal and took pleasure in making Giorno wait for his
response. They were both men of few words, reserved in nature, so the pauses
between their speech was welcomed. “Dio’s body had been destroyed thanks to
Jonathan. That bastard survived despite it. He stole Jonathan’s body from the
neck down and conceived you in that state.”
He didn’t consider himself flawless at reading people, but Jotaro could sense
in the way Giorno’s glassy blue eyes widened ever so slightly that it was as
though everything was locking into place. Almost as if a theory he’d conspired
had turned out true, or at least for the most part, minor details left in the
dusty corners of his mind, swept under some hypothetical rug only to be
replaced with the shiny new truths.
It was silent then, among the two men anyhow, the chatter of the other
restaurant goers and the live music drifting down the aisles which waiters
clattered along at regular intervals still persistent. They ate and Jotaro
thought. All them years ago when fighting Dio he’d never once entertained the
idea he’d be dinning with his son. It was a bizarre and ironic turn of events
really.
“What was he like?” Giorno broke the peace, speaking a little quieter than
before. “His presence, what did it feel like to be close to him?”
Jotaro wondered what Giorno would want him to say. Looking at the don across
the table he saw someone who didn’t know a family and would never need to. It
was a bittersweet thing, what Giorno had become because of his past. Jotaro of
course was not here to please, whatever image Giorno had of Dio, Jotaro
wouldn’t bare it in mind.
“…Relieving.” He decided, for it was the truth.
“Relieving?” Giorno echoed.
“It was the end of the journey, one of us was gonna wind up dead.” Jotaro leant
back in his chair, swallowing down the last of his wine to be rid of its strong
taste. He stared at Giorno, challenging him.
“You knew you’d win?” Giorno asked, leaning forward and seeming to have had his
interest sparked. One elbow propped on the table, the perfectly white cloth
gathering where he touched it, and his other, leaning against the curved arm of
the chair.
“Hm” Jotaro cocked his chin and placed his now empty glass down, the base
clinking on an unused spoon.
Giorno reclined back, chest more exposed now thanks to his straightened
posture. His arms rested apart on the sides of the chair making him appear
bigger. He looked directly into Jotaro’s eyes, his blue gaze unreadable until
it flicked down over Jotaro’s body before returning to its former fixation.
Lower lip bit, he appeared as if in thought. With this he spoke:
“Tell me about yourself Jotaro.” He remained motionless for a few moments
before moving to continue his meal. Despite this, he kept a close watch on the
older man.
Jotaro watched Giorno in return, taking in the way the light made his hair
shine and his suit made him quite attention grabbing. He noticed the way his
lips pursed about the mouthful on the fork and the way he tilted his chin
upwards while eating. “Why?”
Giorno seemed unfazed by Jotaro’s hesitation and continued, “I want to know who
you are.” A coquettish half smile “What do you do?”
The restaurant was hot. Jotaro wondered if it was simply that he was not used
to the climate of Italian summer. In reaction, he tugged discretely at the high
collar of his white shirt, airing himself a little.
“Marine Biology.”
“Children?” Giorno quirked an eyebrow.
“A daughter.”
“You’re married I can see.” Giorno reached and languidly tapped his fingers
against the simple gold ring about Jotaro’s thick finger.
“What do you want?” His voice was louder, not a shout but scolding in nature.
Giorno’s fingers retracted from Jotaro’s hand, dragging lightly across his skin
and causing Jotaro to stiffen.
“It’s not a happy marriage?” Giorno lifted the fingers which had touched at
Jotaro to poorly cover another provocative smile. His eyes were all over the
older man making Jotaro shift to broaden himself.
“Don’t piss me off,” Jotaro warned. “Your father pissed me off.”
The crowd of the restaurant was thinning as the moon rose higher in the sky. It
shone full and bright, and could be seen through the front windows of the
eatery when looking past the printed lettering of the glass.
“You’ve finished your meal?” Giorno inquired, tilting his head which resulted
in an exposed pale neck. He looked up through his lashes. “Do you care for
dessert?”
“Call for the bill.” Jotaro was direct and sharp. He hadn’t much liked the
direction things seemed to be spiralling in and hardened his glare at the
piquant man across from him.
“Do you not desire more to drink?” Giorno lifted his wine glass to his lips,
pouting against the rim.
“I don’t drink a lot.”
“Afraid of losing your composure?” Giorno took a sip and licked his lips. “I’ll
call for a taxi back to my place. We have an outstanding selection of wines.”
“No wine.” Jotaro demanded offhandedly giving the impression there was
something else he failed to mention. 
“Well what would you like Mr. Kujo? Don’t you want to relax? You seem tense.”
One thing Jotaro had learnt throughout the duration of the meal was that Giorno
was scarily good at reading people. He was not so much a lie detector as
someone who could see withheld truths no matter how hard one tried to mask
them.
“I’m tired.” And it was somewhat true. Jotaro had grown impatient and was
frantically searching his mind for an escape before he found it too late to
stop himself.
“You can tell me the truth Mr. Kujo.” Giorno leaned forwards, hand sliding
across the table so that his fingertips were a mere few centimetres away from
Jotaro’s. He smiled almost coyly.
“Why should I?” Jotaro tapped his finger’s lazily before stilling them.
“I can relieve you.” Giorno’s lips curled and as he spoke he drafted his digits
so softly along Jotaro’s larger more tanner ones. The touch sent warning bells
blaring in Jotaro’s mind, every moral he stood for screaming that he stop, and
yet the raised hairs on the back of his neck and the tingles down his spine
told him to throw caution to the wind and take it.
Jotaro retrieved his hand after a moment, waving a nearby waiter over to ask
for the bill. His Italian was mediocre and he would’ve much preferred Giorno
take the lead, though he needed an interruption as quickly as he could find
one.
The interruption lasted longer than Jotaro had assumed it would. Giorno
bickered in a friendly manner with the waiter he was familiar with after being
informed the owner of the restaurant had demanded the meal be on the house. The
banter was won by Giorno of course when he pulled out a plentiful wad of cash
and insisted the change was kept. While the waiter seemed reluctant and even
called out the owner, a jolly rotund man, who rambled so rapidly Jotaro lost
track of what was happening, the offer from the don was finally accepted.
When the two men eventually made it outside, luck would have it that an
unoccupied taxi was 50 metres down the street. Giorno flagged it over with a
quick wave of his arm. As the taxi drew closer to them Giorno stepped closer to
Jotaro.
The street was mostly vacant despite a cluster of teenagers chattering
animatedly and an elderly man shifting plastic crates outside a vegetable shop.
A gentle sloshing of the sea could be heard from across the road, the open
ocean an oil black afore them. Upon its surface the moon glittered making the
ripples appear as though they had been placed there by the stroke of an
artist’s paint brush.
“Come on,” Giorno spoke, touching against Jotaro’s arm as the taxi pulled up.
Another conversation Jotaro struggled to keep up with was had though this one
much shorter. He slid into the backseat of the vehicle, followed by Giorno who
requested the radio be turned on before they had even set off. This Jotaro was
thankful for, he did not much fancy enduring small talk in a foreign tongue
with the stranger behind the wheel.
Whilst Jotaro was seated to the right and there was much space for Giorno to
sit to the left, the younger man took the middle seat. Their thighs pressed
together due to their close proximity and Jotaro could smell Giorno’s cologne,
the musky lavender smell enticing. The driver paid them little to no attention
and so it seemed that Giorno took this as an invitation to place his hand on
Jotaro’s knee.
The vehicle bounced over a bump in the road and Giorno slipped his hand further
up Jotaro’s thigh. It almost seemed as if he were playfully mocking discretion.
Jotaro was very much focused on the driver but with Giorno’s persistent
advances he glanced down to his left to give a sharp glare. Giorno responded
with a sultry expression and continued his actions until his hand rested
motionlessly over Jotaro’s crotch.
With a swallow, Jotaro leaned down somewhat and lowered his voice so that only
Giorno could hear. His voice cut through the dulcet singing from the radio.
“You’re not going to regret this are you?”
Giorno huffed a short laugh and took to playing at Jotaro’s wedding ring, “You
should be asking yourself that.”
Jotaro reclaimed his hand from Giorno’s meddlesome one with a curt, “Shut up.”
In response Giorno leant up so that his pale lips were pressed to Jotaro’s ear,
the warmth from them tickling the older man slightly. His hand returned back to
its previous and most scandalous position. “You can shut me up with your cock
in my mouth when we get back.”
A shuddery breath was exhaled by the older man who stared straight ahead,
cringing as his cock twitched under Giorno’s palm. His ear lobe was bitten at
and licked and his currently hardening length rubbed at gently. Jotaro grabbed
at Giorno’s hand, preventing his teasing which caused Giorno to retract himself
entirely.
“The road’s clear, speed up.” Jotaro spoke loudly so that the driver would pick
up his ill pronounced Italian. He was answered with an unfriendly mutter from
the driver and a smirk from Giorno.
*
The front door clicked behind them and momentarily broke the silence that grew
alongside the tension. Giorno’s keys clinked as he dropped them on the side by
a porcelain vase, the heels of his shoes clunked against the marble floor once
he had removed and placed them by the coat stand. Jotaro followed, kicking his
shoes off ungracefully and abandoning them by the door, not considering the
inconvenience they caused.
He tailed the don wordlessly, down through the grand entrance of the villa with
its sleek décor and surplus array of flora. They came to a living area, the
curtains drawn and a tall lamp lighting the area dimly. The interior was
ostentatious and warm.  
“Take a seat.” Giorno purred, hand resting on the back of a chesterfield with a
footstool afore it.
Jotaro complied and seated himself, legs spread casually more than
suggestively.  
“Would you like a drink?” Giorno rounded the chair to stand in front of the
seated man. He was close, his legs threatening to come into contact with
Jotaro’s had he chosen to close them.
“Cut the crap.” Jotaro grit out through his teeth. His cock was hard in his
pants and Giorno knew it.
The don raised his eyebrows looking nothing but smug. He dropped to his knees,
his eyes focused onto Jotaro’s the whole way down. Once again his teasing
fingers rubbed along Jotaro’s legs, drawing circles along his inner thighs and
eventually rubbing at the persistent bulge between them. Jotaro pushed lightly
into the touch hoping to coax Giorno into sliding his zipper down though it
instead caused him to pull away and take his left hand instead.
Looking down between his legs felt like looking at a mirage. There Giorno was,
clasping his hand in front of his face, pouting with his soft luscious lips and
drawing attention to those large baby blue eyes by blinking with the innocence
of a child. He darted his tongue out to lick at the tips of Jotaro’s index and
middle fingers before wrapping his lips around them entirely. Jotaro cursed
under his breath in his native tongue for his mind couldn’t think clearly
enough to do otherwise.
The suckling and moaning sounds which Giorno emitted made him throb in
desperation and the wet warmth which now encased his entire two fingers all the
way to the base was heavenly. His tongue glided over Jotaro’s skin and
knuckles, eager to coat every millimetre in saliva.
“Giorno.” Jotaro spoke in a strict manner.
Giorno hummed inquisitively.
“Enough.”
The blonde slipped off from Jotaro’s fingers, lips glimmering with spit under
the dim lighting. “Enough?” He echoed playfully.
“Suck it.” Jotaro demanded, glancing from Giorno’s eyes to his crotch and back
again.
Giorno smiled, leaning forward to slowly unzip Jotaro’s flies, the pace
agonizing. “You’re so desperate,” Giorno chuckled, finally done with the zip.
He pulled on the waist band of Jotaro’s trousers which Jotaro allowed him to
pull down, his underwear followed.
Jotaro’s thick cock stood tall before Giorno who eyed it excitedly. He ran a
finger from the head to the base in one slow stroke before blowing on it
lightly. Lapping at the head, Giorno looked as though he should be eating
gelato not sucking dick but the fire in his eyes told otherwise.
Finally his lips encased the head of Jotaro’s cock which he flicked his tongue
over languidly. Jotaro sighed at the stimulation and brought a hand to the back
of Giorno’s head again hoping to encourage him. This time his efforts were
successful as Giorno took in more of the girthy length, his ringed fingers
grasping at Jotaro’s muscular thighs.
With his tongue dragging along Jotaro’s cock and his lips moving up and down,
Giorno managed to reach the base where Jotaro’s coarse hairs tickled his nose.
Jotaro grunted at the now increased pace, pulling at the blonde hairs tangled
between his fingers. He couldn’t help but roll his hips to push himself further
down Giorno’s throat, a sweat breaking out across his brow due to his worked-up
state.
“Fuck…” Jotaro groaned, pushing into Giorno’s accepting mouth while gripping
firmly at his hair to keep him in place.
Giorno moaned and whined loudly around Jotaro’s cock which surprised the older
man but was further fuel to his fire despite it. With Jotaro thrusting and
holding Giorno there was not much he could do other than incurvate his cheeks
and curl his tongue. Jotaro squeezed his eyes shut and let the pleasurable
shivers run through his body. Due to the rapid pace he could feel himself
drawing closer to finishing with each harsh push.
Soon Giorno’s hands moved away from Jotaro’s thighs to clamp down on his hips
instead, allowing him to remove his mouth and clear his throat. Jotaro thinned
his eyes in confusion and mild anger whilst Giorno sat back on his haunches and
swiped the back of his hand across his lips.
“Wait here,” Giorno smiled, standing and revealing the obvious erection
straining at his trousers, “I want you inside me.”
Jotaro rubbed the tip of his nose with the backs of his knuckles thoughtfully,
“Be quick.”
And Giorno was.
In his absence Jotaro removed his trousers and underwear entirely, socks too,
and dumped the garments in a pile by an oddly shaped sculpture he didn’t
understand the appeal of. He shrugged off his jacket eventually as a result of
the heat and let it join the rest of his things in a crumpled state. He had
forgone his hat tonight and so could run his fingers through his sweaty curls
and try not to think too much, lest he come to his senses.
When Giorno re-entered the room he came holding a thin blue bottle with his
hair untied most likely because of Jotaro pulling and mussing it up.
“Come here,” Giorno demanded, signalling to the large sofa with a wider angled
part jutting out, presumably so they would have more room.
Jotaro rose and came to sit in the new position, Giorno stayed upright while he
relocated, watching him closely. At this Jotaro decided he’d had enough of
being ordered about and took Giorno by the waist with a rough grab.
“Take your shirt off.” Jotaro spoke lowly and Giorno complied, first throwing
the bottle down next to Jotaro and then stripping off his suit jacket before
working the buttons of his shirt open.
Jotaro licked his lips as his eyes hungrily ate up the sight of the toned chest
being revealed afore him. He ground his hand into Giorno’s clothed cock before
brusquely undoing his trousers with little regard to how expensive they no
doubt were. Due to their tightness, Jotaro had to practically peel back the
material until it met his knees where the garment fell quite easily allowing
Giorno to step out.
Pink lacy underwear ardently confined Giorno’s erection and it almost made
Jotaro huff a laugh to think the most notorious gangster in Italy wore such a
thing. He didn’t admire the sight for long, keen to fill Giorno up. He pulled
down the underwear and gave a quick squeeze to Giorno’s cock. It was much
smaller than his but still fairly impressive.
Grabbing the bottle beside him, Jotaro opened the lid and allowed some of the
lube to pool into his palm. He stroked his length several times to coat it and
tried to keep his breathing steady.
Giorno took it upon himself to lay back on the other side of the sofa amongst
the fluffy throw cushions and spread his legs. He had retrieved the lube once
Jotaro had taken what he needed and covered his middle and index finger in the
substance.
Watching him closely, Jotaro turned to face Giorno who was pushing his fingers
into himself and panting at the intrusion. He seemed as though he was used to
the act as he picked up the pace, stretching and working himself looser. He
stared into Jotaro’s eyes, his mouth hanging ajar as he exhaled in short
bursts.
Jotaro swore at how hot he was getting from watching Giorno and advanced on him
with the intention of replacing those fingers with his cock. 
Giorno pulled his fingers from himself when Jotaro had crawled atop him,
spreading his legs further in what looked to be an invitation. Jotaro took his
cock in his hand and guided the head to Giorno’s entrance, pushing into him
slowly until he was fully sheathed.
The needy breathlessness from Giorno inspired Jotaro to begin grinding his hips
which were flush against Giorno’s ass. The heat around him was ambrosial and he
bucked into it hard and fast, grunting with each thrust. Giorno was jostled up
and down, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he was fucked. He managed to keep
himself propped up on his elbows, legs bent at the knees which he soon wrapped
around Jotaro’s waist.
It wasn’t long before Giorno was messily tugging at Jotaro’s shirt, tearing the
buttons as he opened it up. Jotaro straightened to rid himself of it completely
before returning to rolling his hips once again.
“I’m a better fuck than your wife, aren’t I Jotaro?” Giorno grinned through a
moan.
Jotaro fucked him harder at the question, somewhat regretting he ever took his
cock out of that mouth. But despite himself, the way Giorno was writhing and
squeezing about him had him spilling words he should’ve kept to himself. “Fuck,
yes! You’re so good.”
Before he knew it, Jotaro was being pulled down into a messy kiss. His lips,
Giorno’s lips, his tongue, Giorno’s tongue. It was sloppy and broken by heavy
gasping and panting but he didn’t care, couldn’t care. All he could think of
was how good it all felt.
He took Giorno’s leaking cock into his hand and jerked it as his thrusting
became haphazard. Their lips were still meshing at one another’s and Giorno’s
hands were all over Jotaro, feeling his chest, his back, grasping at his thick
black curls.
“Will you think of me…” Giorno moaned, “the next time you make love to her?”
Jotaro squeezed hard at Giorno making him gasp. He drove his hips erratically,
feeling Giorno shudder around him. “I won’t be able—” He broke off panting “not
to.”
Giorno moaned loudly, body tensing, thick cum spurting from him. His body
tightened and shivered, bringing Jotaro to a similar state, cum gushing from
his cock and filling Giorno. His thrusts slowed as the stimulation began to
hurt and his breathing remained ragged.
For several long seconds the only movement was the rapid rise and fall of their
chests. Eventually Jotaro pulled out, now limp and spent. He sat back and
caught his breath, eyeing Giorno who regained himself much faster and then
promptly disappeared off for a short time.
Returning with two glasses of water, he offered one to Jotaro who took it
wordlessly. They both remained undressed as they swallowed the drink down,
placing the empty glasses on the respective nearby surfaces.
“When do you leave Italy?” Giorno broke the silence as they sat side by side.
“In two days.” Jotaro replied.
Giorno pulled on the blanket thrown over the back of the sofa and wrapped it
around himself.
“I want to call for a taxi,” Jotaro sighed. “Can I use your phone?”
“Yes, but—” Giorno cleared his throat “—why don’t you stay?”
Jotaro thought about getting up to retrieve his underwear but yawned instead.
“I’ve out-stayed my welcome.”
Giorno laughed, removed the blanket from himself and threw it over Jotaro.
“Just go to sleep.” He said, getting up from the couch and heading to leave the
living area, “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Jotaro dragged the soft blanket over himself and relaxed into the fluffy
cushions, “…I like toast.”
Giorno rounded the archway and disappeared, “I’ll see what I can do.”
End Notes
     @Jotaro's wife I am sorry
     Also technically they would be divorced at this point in canon but
     for the sake of added drama I glossed over that fact.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!