Here's part two. I hope you guys like it.

By the time Okuyasu arrived, Jotaro had succeeded in getting Josuke to quiet down. It wasn't easy, considering that the kid repeatedly insisted on fixing the broken tequila bottle every five minutes, but his attention was quickly diverted each time. This did nothing to lessen Jotaro's sigh of relief when he heard the tentative knock on his door.

"Uh, Jotaro-san? Are you guys in there…?"

Okuyasu's hand was raised in mid-knock when Jotaro opened the door, and he stared with wide eyes as the older man stepped aside wordlessly to allow him entrance. "He's on the bed."

When they got to the bedroom Josuke was as Jotaro had left him, back slouched and chin on chest as he leaned heavily against the headboard; Okuyasu ran up to him before Jotaro could get a word out, his hands hovering in the awkward territory between personal space and uncomfortable distance. "Holy shit, Josuke, are you okay? You look hammered." Josuke didn't respond, though his eyelids twitched as he shifted in his fitful drunken trance.

"Were you hanging out today?" Jotaro cut in, his voice coming out unintentionally stern. "Do you know where he got that?" He gestured with his elbow towards the warped glass that was now sitting on the table, noting Okuyasu's stiff posture and wide eyes as he followed his line of sight.

"We…we were just hanging out at my place earlier…" the teen said quietly. "There was some in my house, probably'd been there for years, but I…I didn't think there was any harm in having some. Josuke's been so stressed lately, y'know? I thought he…I didn't think he'd…"

The rest of the story, as far as Jotaro was concerned, was unnecessary.

"O-Okuyasu?" Josuke mumbled, eyes cracking open to take in his friend's now-stricken visage; he seemed to brighten instantly, relief painting his features as he sat up straight and clutched the other boy's arm. "How'd you get here…?"

Okuyasu swallowed painfully. "Jotaro-san called me. Josuke…why are you…why did you drink so much? You look like hell."

"What d'you…" Josuke paused, took in Okuyasu's worried expression, and frowned. "S'that why you're here?"

"Huh? What's that mean?" Jotaro allowed himself the smallest bit of surprise at the anger he detected in Okuyasu's tone, at the way he retuned Josuke's grip on his arm with two hands digging into his shoulders. "You said you'd go straight home afterwards, but you just stole my Dad's booze and drank until you couldn't even talk straight?! You could've died on your way here!" For perhaps the first time since Jotaro had known him, the kid was speaking rational sense. "And now you're asking me why I came?! It's 'cause I care about you, dude. I'm supposed to be the stupid one here! You're supposed to be…"

"Oi." Jotaro finally got a word in edgewise, and placed a hand on Okuyasu's shoulder. "I don't think you should yell at him right now."

"But I—" He glanced at Jotaro, glanced back at Josuke—at his haggard countenance, pointed frown, and shiny eyes—and visibly deflated. "…Yeah. Sorry. Hey, Josuke…" He removed his hands from the other boy's shoulders, reached towards his face instead.

Josuke clumsily dodged. "No…" he muttered. "Don't touch me…"

"Dude, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled—"

"S'my fault," the other teen muttered. "Couldn't do anything…"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Jotaro tugged Okuyasu's elbow, pulling him towards the other side of the room. "From what he told me earlier, he's been having nightmares since we got rid of that Stand user. Ones where things didn't turn out the way they did in reality. He was distraught when he mentioned your name. You remember what happened that day, don't you?"

Evidently he didn't need to explain any further; Okuyasu's eyes lit up with understanding. "…Nightmares?" he repeated, visibly distressed.

Jotaro nodded. "Have you noticed anything? Have you spent the night at each other's places since then?"

Swallowing, the teen replied, "Yeah, but…I noticed he was acting weird, kinda shaky when I woke up. I slept like a log, so…" He glanced back at Josuke, and the emotional agony on his face made Jotaro recoil internally. "…Is this my fault?"

"No, but he needs someone to help him out of it."

With a nod, Okuyasu inched closer to the bed and took a seat at Josuke's side as Jotaro watched from his position across the room. "Josuke…you know you can talk to me, right? Anything you wanna say, I'm right here. You can always count on me, y'know?" He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder, shook him lightly to jolt him from his stupor. "You hearing me?"

It took a bit of time—due to disbelief, perhaps, or a sneaking suspicion that such reassurance was a concoction of his booze-addled brain—but eventually Josuke came round and looked at his friend with the first hint of relative clarity Jotaro had seen in his eyes all night. "Okuyasu…I…"

It was hard for Jotaro in that moment to feel nothing, to maintain a mask of indifference—though the desire to stay composed remained, he found it momentarily eclipsed by the urge to glance away from the fat, sloppy tears rolling down his uncle's face.

"Okuyasu," he said again, short sobs wracking his frame. The other boy pulled him closer, allowed tears to soak into his clothes. "M'sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? I should be the one saying sorry to you."

"But I…I let you…"

"No you didn't, Josuke." His hand tightened, fisting the fabric of Josuke's jacket. "You saved me, y'know. More than a few times. You did all the right things, so don't worry about me. I'm right here, dude. I ain't going anywhere."

For a moment, he thought his mind went back to an earlier time, possibly triggered by something Okuyasu said. It reminded him of what someone else had said to him. Whether it was his tone, his meaning, or a single word, Jotaro knew that someone else had said something along those lines to him once before. But it was a very brief memory, and he didn't want to recall the details, so he quickly set it aside—not to be forgotten, but not remembered either. And that was that.

It was no easy feat to get the drunken teen into the shower, but given the stench of vomit and dirt on his clothes, they figured it to be a necessity; for his part, Josuke was compliant about it, allowing the two of them to shed his clothes and not objecting when they guided him into the tub. He didn't voice a complaint either when his hair was matted down with water, not that his pompadour had been in great shape beforehand. For the most part he didn't need much assistance with washing himself, though he asked Okuyasu to do his hair. From where Jotaro stood just outside the door (in case his help was needed) he could hear Josuke humming a slow tune, with Okuyasu laughing softly as he muttered something under his breath.

"You two can have the bed," he told Okuyasu afterwards as he half-carried a drowsy Josuke out of the bathroom, the latter dressed in some of Jotaro's spare clothes. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Uh, are you sure, Jotaro-san? It's your hotel room, after all…"

He glanced at his uncle, now effectively asleep from the bath and hanging off of Okuyasu's shoulder, and remarked, "He needs the space, and I'm bigger than you. Also, you two are…"

Okuyasu laughed lightly, his cheeks dusted red. "Yeah…you're right."

It went unspoken, but he didn't want to be anywhere near Josuke when he woke up in the morning with the mother of all hangovers.

Hangovers are the worst. Some people have to learn that the hard way, including Josuke. Thanks for reading, if you got this far.