A/N: Rayum is my Part 4 muse. And so this story, in all it's glory, is dedicated to him. Right now it's Rohan/Josuke, but the following chapters will have different pairings and situations.

This chapter is rated M for a reason. Please keep this in mind while you're reading, thank you.

What a Beautiful Duwang

His eyebrows narrowed as he drew the curve of the back just above the butt cheeks. Teeth gritting as his pen outlined firm legs, taut chest, slender fingers. A tiny hiss escaping his lips as he inked in that ridiculous pompadour. And just as soon as he had finished, Rohan Kishibe took the paper between his hands and crumpled it up, tossing it haphazardly into the waste-bin by his desk.

He had been drawing Josuke all day, for reasons beyond his control. His warm ups were Josuke, his pencil tests were Josuke, even his finished products were turning into Josuke. He hadn't touched his comic all day, he just didn't have the inspiration. The only thing Rohan could concentrate on was drawing the most annoying person that he knew; Josuke Higashikata.

"Damn it," the artist hissed once again, slamming his fist onto the desk. The pen, which was still clutched tightly between his fingers, leaked from the tip, smearing over yet another picture of that obnoxious punk with the pompadour, "What is with me today?"

Rohan watched as the ink ran over the few lines he had drawn, swim into the creases and tooth of the paper.

Why did he keep thinking about Josuke? It was both a mystery and an annoyance at this point. Sitting back in his chair, hands crossing angrily over his chest, the aloof young man stared at his ceiling where he began to make out pictures of Jouke in the various textures that dotted the structure.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand harshly, Rohan released them and sighed deeply, "What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I obsessing over that damn asshole!?"

He didn't just not like Josuke, oh no, he flat out hated him. Hated his hair, hated his fashion, hated that damn smile, that stupid gleam in his eyes, that smooth voice, those plump lips, the way his clothes clung just so to those delicious hips …

The artist had slammed his head into the desk before even he completely comprehended what he was doing, "Why is he invading my thoughts? WHY?"

Fingers ran through his dark tresses, smoothing it back into place. Brows furrowed in anger and concentration, it seemed like an eternity of silence before Rohan peeled his eyes open and whispered, "Well, I'll just have to do something about this then."

-x-o-x-

"Higashikata," the foreign voice interrupted the conversation taking place in the school's very busy hallway.

It wasn't until Josuke heard the swooning and the whispering that he turned around to see who was causing such a scene, and at the same time, signaling him out.

"Rohan?" the large young man blurted out in surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak to you," Rohan's face was stern as he continued to ignore the questions and praise that he was being bombarded with, "Privately."

"Well, me and Okuyasu were gonna go -"

"Now."

It was a demand and it was stated loudly. The excitement quickly turned into a dull murmur and then into nothing but hushed whispering. Josuke shot Okuyasu a confused glance over his shoulder, but only received a shrug of the shoulders in return.

"Eh, fine," the taller of the two young men sighed exasperated, shoving his hands into his pockets as he began walking towards the irate looking artist. They had their scuffs in the past, but he never remembered Rohan coming to him to sort things out. Usually they just ignored each other until it was convenient to involve the other man. And considering Rohan wasn't being his usual cocky self, shooting jeers and rude comments his way, Josuke was beginning to think it was something serious.

But then he realized that they were leaving the school in the direction of the famous artist's house. And even though his mind told him to turn back, say something snide or smart ass, his feet compelled him forward. And the mental debate in his head about whether to go or stay came to an abrupt stalemate when Rohan swung the front door to his home open widely and pushed him inside.

"Whelp, here we are," the student hummed, watching nervously as Rohan hurried back and forth, gathering supplies and setting them up.

Rohan Kishibe ignored Josuke to the point as if he wasn't even there and, instead, ran across the expanse of the living room, fixing his canvas, moving his work station, setting up his pens and pencils. He grabbed the curtains and pulled them over the windows, encasing the room in darkness.

"Uh … yeah, I'm just gonna go," Josuke's voice sounded shaky even to him. It's not like he was scared of Rohan or anything, but he certainly didn't like being thrust into situations with no explanations.

The flash of light from a lamp that filled his pupils suddenly caused him to hiss slightly in pain and hold a hand over his eyes. Hearing a dull click behind him, Josuke spun on a heel quickly, glancing at Rohan through the small light bouncing off of the door … that he had just locked.

"Okay, I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't -"

"I can't get you out of my mind, Josuke," the artist's voice was curt when he interrupted the young man, hand long removed from the lock now as he stood chest to chest with the thing that was most plaguing his thoughts, "I can't draw anything but you, can't think about anything but you."

The taller man took a large swallow, his throat feeling dry and voice suddenly betraying him. Rohan's eyes seemed as they always did; intense and holding an obvious malicious for the man in front of him. Both men said nothing as the smaller man took a step forward, causing the other to take a step back.

Another large swallow and Rohan persisted; he would walk forward, and Josuke would walk back. Again and again until Josuke lost his footing from behind him and fell awkwardly onto the small chair that was placed in the center of the room.

"Stay there," the well known mangaka instructed, taking his rightful place behind the work bench, "I will get your damned visage out of my mind by drawing from real life. This is the only way."

Josuke, surprisingly, did little to resist. Mostly because any attempt to speak was immediately shushed by Rohan, and he seemed to be more on edge than usual. He had better things to do, but … well, maybe sitting for a bit couldn't hurt.

The only sound was the scratching from Rohan's pencil and pen as he worked around the paper, drawing in it's entirety. And when he was done with one sheet, he grabbed another without faltering and continued seamlessly from where he was before.

Josuke watched as his eyes went from anger and frustration to excitement and satisfaction. The lips, which had earlier in the day been pulled into a straight line, were now spreading over his teeth in a cocky smile.

Quite a bit of time seemed to pass before Rohan set his tools down, stood up, and mumbled, "Yes, I've perfected what's in front of me, but it's not enough. No, I need more, I need to do more."

He walked over to his model, hand resting on his chin as he scanned the young man up and down, from every angle. His hushed whispering only increased in volume as his eyes began to widen, getting more intense as he circled around.

And then a quick snap of the fingers, "Yes, that's it!"

Rohan's hands were on Josuke before the man had time to react. In a fluid motion, the artist had effectively swept the school jacket off of him, over his arms, and in a pool on the floor. But he didn't stop there as he unzipped the random zippers on the undershirt, effectively exposing Josuke's nipples.

"Hm, you have your nipples pierced," Rohan's eyes flashed surprise for a moment, unable to pry his eyes away from the glittering gold loops.

But it was Josuke who was able to stop the visual assault. "What the hell, man?" the young man with the pompadour asked incredulously, arms covering his chest, shielding himself from the every growing uncomfortable predicament.

Rohan merely snorted, "Really, Josuke. Like I haven't seen nipple piercings before. But to think that you would have them … it's so very like you," the smirk that followed was one of mocking.

"Regardless," the mangaka continued, yanking the offending arms apart, "this is good, this is very good. I need to draw this. So you just be a good boy and sit there."

Josuke gave a small "tch" in response as he turned his head to the side, trying to hide the small blush spreading across his cheeks. He didn't like this; he felt vulnerable. And with Rohan's eyes scouring his body, scanning every inch of him, it made him feel more naked than he actually was. But if he tried to pull anything funny, he would just kick his ass.

But he was too lost in his own thoughts to realize that Rohan had gotten closer, was now mere inches from him. And when his nipple was flicked harshly, he couldn't contain the small moan that pushed it's way out of his mouth.

"W-what the fuck, Rohan?!"

"Hm, interesting, it got hard so fast," the artist's smile was feral, almost crazed as he watched Josuke's nipples perk up under his touch, strain themselves against the piercings. The way his flesh prickled, the way his breathing caused the chest to move up and down, and at quite a fast pace too.

The information wasn't enough, though. Just seeing how they hardened and responded to him wasn't enough. So Rohan took one in his mouth and twirled it over teeth and tongue.

Another moan was out of Josuke's mouth, louder this time. His hands gripped wildly onto the chair he was still barely sitting on to try and keep his balance, but his mind was beginning to go hazy.

"Isn't it interesting?" Rohan's voice invaded his thoughts in an abrasive way, "The body can be so strong, can be so well worked and toned, and yet … nipples. They're always so … sensitive."

Rohan's mouth sucked harder after emphasizing the last word. And while his mouth was exploring one of the sensitive nubs, the other received exceptional treatment from his free hand. The chair had toppled over, leaving both men on the floor; Josuke's back was pressed into the treated wood, Rohan sitting on top.

Josuke wanted to push him away, wanted to kick his damn ass … but he couldn't find it in him. His body was, infuriatingly enough, succumbing completely to the smaller man on top of him. But damn it if he didn't like it, this feeling. The feeling of his body writhing in pleasure was something he usually could only do to himself, and it was nothing like this. But … Rohan?

"Hng, damn it," the larger man gasped, one arm covering his face in shame. Regardless of whether he liked it or not, it was obvious to Rohan. And that was a bad thing. Surely in a few minutes, when this was all over, that stupid mock expression would be plastered all over his face and he'd say something snide. But for now … Josuke mildly mused that he would just enjoy it.

The artists lips left the other's chest, now breathing even more heavily. The nipples, still perky if not more so, were red and worked, one glistening with Rohan's spit.

"Aha, yes!" Rohan's eyes gleamed even brighten now, pencil working quickly over the paper. Faster and faster, paper seemed to be flying across the room with each new sketch, "That face, Josuke. I want to see what else you can do with it."

His free hand was rubbing and squeezing the larger man's crotch, harshly rubbing fabric into needy skin. And it got Rohan his desired reaction. Josuke's body bucked up into the new sensation, scream nearly tearing from his lips. Hands gripped onto the artist's shoulders roughly as he squeezed and writhed and moaned around.

He so desperately wanted to punch Rohan in that smug face of his, but … he couldn't deny that he was pretty good with his hands.

"Do you like this, Josuke? Oh, of course you do. I can feel your body wanting more of mine, the way it works and tenses against me. Nipples hard, but oh, it looks like you cock is so much harder," and it was emphasized further with a squeeze that caused Josuke to shudder more violently.

But as good as he was feeling now, the larger man wasn't prepared for when he felt Rohan's flesh come into direct contact with his. And it felt damn good.

Screaming unabashed now, Josuke held his arms flat against the ground, fingers scratching at the floor, as he thrust himself up into Rohan's touch. It was anything but delicate, but it had a precision to it. Somehow, Rohan knew just where to touch him, stroke him to make his body shudder and mind go white.

And that damn scratching. He knew that perfectionist was sketching all of this. And the worst part was, he knew every detail was going to be spot on. Josuke's face beamed a deeper shade of crimson.

"More, more," was all he could hear from above him. Rohan's hand had abandoned his position in favor of his own hardening member, still encased in clothing, rubbing against him. It didn't nearly feel as good as flesh on flesh, but it had it's own abrasiveness that continued to spark new feelings out of Josuke. And he could feel it in the pit of his stomach that he was going to cum soon. But being who he was, he didn't want to give Rohan the satisfaction of having it happen too quickly.

It was at that very moment, when Josuke was concentrating on holding out as long as he could, that he felt fabric began to wrap loosely around his throat. And then it tightened.

He coughed and sputtered, drool running from the corners of his mouth. Eyes began to water almost immediately at the new action. It didn't seem to have intent to kill, but if this was the whole reason Rohan had dragged him here, then maybe the bastard wasn't as dumb as Josuke thought. Curtains shut, no one else in the house. Yeah, Josuke could very easily see himself passing out here. Maybe Rohan wanted a kidney or something.

"Real thing is always better than a non-organic image!" he could hear him saying already.

So when he heard, "Josuke, retract your stand," instead, he was a bit taken back.

Prying his eyes open slowly, breath coming out in haggard gasps and wheezes now, he saw Rohan staring directly at him, face painted with a serious expression. And behind him, he saw Crazy Diamond, fist held us beside the artist's head, ready to do what he had to do to protect the young Higashikata.

A cough, and then, "W-why … should I?"

Rohan's expression remained serious as he stared at Josuke. Eyes were wide, yet calm, mouth drawn into a line, lips pursed together. But he wasn't sweating, didn't seem scared. It was almost like he was trusting the man beneath him. Which was refreshing, for a change.

"Josuke … please," the artist's voice was calm, yet stern, "I'm not going to kill you. Pft, I wouldn't do it so crass even if I was going to. This is just an experiment, a test into human emotions in the purest form of lust and desire. I thought you'd be man enough to take it."

The larger man's eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the last sentence. Man enough? Oh, he'd show him just how much!

Crazy Diamond disappeared quickly, leaving just the two men on the floor once more. Rohan's smirk returned once again, a possessive quality to it, "Well, well."

Josuke, for what he could muster, flashed a cocky smirk in return before choking on the tightening cloth around his neck. But Rohan's hand was back on his half hard member once again, and the two sensations mixing together was nothing the young man had ever felt before. His head was swirling with a dull pain that seemed to mix with his pleasure, and it was all erupting from the very pit of his stomach. And the pain increased until it turned into a warm sensation of nothing and gave way fully into the pleasure radiating throughout his entire body now.

His toes curled within the confines of his shoes, body arched upwards, head rolling back against the wooden floor, fingers grabbing on wildly to the mess of Rohan's hair. And he moaned loudly and without resolve, tears mixing with sweat and saliva. His pompadour was beginning to come undone sightly, wisps of it sticking to his face and forehead.

Even Rohan was panting now, sweat starting to accumulate on his forehead as he drew. Hands had released the tightened cloth around the other man's neck so that now it merely clung loosely as both men wriggled around and rubbed against each other. His sketching was becoming lazy, sloppy. Try as he might, even he was giving way to his primal desires, and after drawing one particularly wobbly line, the mangaka tossed his tools to the side and concentrated solely on Josuke.

Expletives ran colorfully from Josuke's mouth as he jerked his body up into Rohan's hand. While the smaller man let out tiny gasps and moans himself, using his hands to explore every nook and cranny of this, while he wouldn't say it aloud, admittedly beautiful body.

Josuke came not too long after, spilling his seed all over Rohan's hand and his naked stomach. His body shuddered and spazzed for longer than he'd ever felt before, mind clouded in a comfortable haze as he heard nothing but the breathing of the two men and the occasional chirp from a bird from outside.

Vision finally coming into focus, he propped himself up on his shoulders, watching as Rohan looked at his hand with an expression he couldn't read.

"Uh, Rohan, are you okay?" Josuke asked, breathing finally starting to return to normal, eyebrows cocked in a confused expression as he watched Rohan continue to almost glare at his hand, covered in Josuke's essence.

And then he stuck out his tongue … and licked it.

"Ah, dude!" Josuke nearly wailed, hands grasping onto his face, "That is so gross, stop!"

The smaller man's feral smile returned more fully, lips spreading wide as he began explaining to himself the properties of semen and his now expertise on the matter.

-x-o-x-

Upon a reluctant agreement with Josuke, Rohan was crunching up the numerous papers he'd sketched on earlier in the day. It was quite a bit more than he remembered drawing, but he was one to never squander inspiration, and the larger man today had provided him with quite a bit. But regardless if he'd gotten a lot of art done today or not, the important thing was that Josuke Higashikata was no longer plaguing his mind.

It was extremely refreshing.

Reaching for the last piece of paper, the young artist was about to roll it up into yet another paper ball for the trash bin, but his mind nagged him to look at it once more before he did. It was an image of Josuke's face, mouth hanging open in pleasure, eyes peering open through tears, blush spreading across cheeks as his hair clung to it desperately, being plastered down from the sweat. In it, his arm was reaching up, and Rohan could almost feel those strong fingers raking through his hair again, grasping onto his scalp.

And inadvertently, he smiled.

Giving a once over the empty house, Rohan Kishibe took the image and slid it under some other papers in the corner of his desk, "I don't think he'll mind if I keep just the one."

What a Beautiful Duwang

Chapter 1: Rohan/Josuke

-End-

A/N: I have quite a bit more planned for this story, though it's not so much a story as it is a collection a random part 4 one-shots, haha. Hopefully, you enjoyed it! Reviews are always appreciated, and thanks for reading!