scriveyner: (Samurai Flamenco - MasaGo)
[personal profile] scriveyner
Title: by touch
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Star Wars AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 1453
Summary: Gotou Hidenori sat back in the pilot’s seat and looked up through the smudged and dirty canopy, took a deep breath and just exhaled.



It’s the middle of the night, local time … where the ship is docked he can see the night sky, the stars luminous and twinkling through the heavy atmosphere in a way that they never do in the deep blackness of space. Gotou Hidenori sat back in the pilot’s seat and looked up through the smudged and dirty canopy, took a deep breath and just exhaled.

They’d been docked two nights now … waiting on a part to arrive to fix a faulty coolant line that they could have maybe moved on without, if Masayoshi hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night a week ago screeching that the ship was venting oxygen and they were going to die in their sleep. He’d banged his hands on the bulkhead approximately where Gotou’s head would be if he was actually in his bunk, until Gotou stumbled out of the cockpit half-awake and blaster pistol in hand thinking they were under attack.

It had taken half the night to calm Masayoshi down. He did this sometimes, woke shouting from nightmares that something was going to happen, and while Gotou wasn’t one to take prophetic dreams seriously, he knew that his passenger (“partner, Gotou-san!”) had some kind of latent Force sensitivity and that it would be idiotic to not take that into account.

They’d dumped their latest load of cargo at a loss, unfortunately… while medkits and supplies were always in high demand, it didn’t help that the settlement had apparently been blasted out of existence by the First Order weeks before they’d arrived. Gotou had negotiated something with a local arm of the Resistance, so at least the cargo went to someone who needed it, but it barely put his accounts above water, and he’d had to trade one of his spare fuel cells for the parts needed to patch the coolant line.

Gotou closed his eyes a moment and inhaled slowly. His lungs ached for tobacco, but he didn’t smoke on the ship with Masayoshi here, and to drop the loading ramp would mean waking him. Gotou exhaled slowly and climbed out of the pilot’s seat. Docked, parked on the ground in atmosphere there was absolutely no need for him to sleep in the seat and he could sprawl out in his bunk for the first time in a week.

To his surprise, as he climbed out of the cockpit Gotou could see the sickly green flickering light of a holovid reflecting off the corridor walls. He walked into the common, to see Masayoshi sitting on the floor beside the R5-D4 astromech droid Sunny, who was playing a small, artifacting piece of a hologram on the floor. The audio was garbled and unintelligible, and what bit could be seen – the nose of a starfighter, an alien arm in a flightsuit, and a cloaked figure – were very quickly obscured and scattered as the recording looped. “What’s that?” Gotou asked, and Masayoshi jumped, knocking his shoulder into the leg strut of the astromech droid. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Masayoshi half-turned, and looked at him. With the wash of the pale green light across his fair skin it made him look sickly, and the reflection cast long bags under his eyes. He gave a faint smile. “I thought you’d be asleep, Gotou-san,” he said, echoing Gotou’s own sentiments. “Sorry.”

“What is that?” Gotou touched the light panel on the wall, which brought the overhead lights back on in the common. “Did Sunny give up more information?”

“A piece of a recording,” Masayoshi said, as if Gotou couldn’t figure that out for himself. “It’s all I’ve been able to reconstruct.” He put his hand on Sunny’s flowerpot dome. “It’s okay, Sunny, you can cut it off.”

The astromech droid let out a low beep that sounded almost mournful, and cut the display.

Gotou rubbed the back of his neck as he watched Masayoshi. He was only a few years younger than Gotou, but sometimes Gotou felt like he was much older. “Hey,” he said. “You all right?”

Masayoshi nodded his head slowly. “It’s … I don’t know what it is, or why it’s important,” he said, and touched Sunny again. “But it is, it’s connected to my lightsaber, and…” It was connected to Masayoshi. There was so much he didn’t know, so much that had been kept from him and he was now searching for. Gotou wished he could say he understood, but he didn’t, not really.

“You should sleep.” Gotou said instead, feeling that strange tugging under his lungs again, the strange buoyancy in his chest that he’d felt those weeks, months ago when Masayoshi had kissed him, exhilarated and free. “Night’s short here, the first of the suns will rise in a few hours and if you think trying to sleep through a binary sunrise is a possibility even with no viewscreens….” Gotou trailed off and shrugged, and Masayoshi smiled, a little pained.

“You sleep,” he said to Gotou, without looking up at him, staring at the empty spot on the floor where the hologram had played. “I’ll see you in the morning, Gotou-san.”

Gotou caught his breath, felt the words form and didn’t stop them this time, like he had in the past. “Masayoshi,” he said firmly. “Come to bed.”

It took a few, long moments for the words to register. Masayoshi looked up at him, tired and worn out in a way that quietly frightened Gotou. He wasn’t used to seeing him so drawn-out and haggard. “It’s not big,” Gotou said. “I mean, I did kinda cannibalize the other bunk to put it together,  but it’s still not big, but I think we could make it work, if you… if you wanted to, that is….” he was blushing now, dammit, why did he turn up the light in the common? Especially with the way Masayoshi was staring at him, eyes widening slightly.

“Gotou-san…?” Masayoshi asked breathlessly.

“It’s just for tonight,” Gotou clarified quickly,  words running almost atop themselves. “It doesn’t mean anything, okay? I just, it’s gotta suck sleeping on that couch, it’s barely fit to sit on, especially with the restraint webbing everywhere.”

Masayoshi hauled himself slowly to his feet, bracing his hand still on Sunny. The droid shifted and beeped, a low inquisitive slide-whistle, and this time Masayoshi flushed pink and knocked his fist on top of the astromech droid’s dome. “Be nice,” he said sharply to the droid, who beeped and then blatted rudely, twisting its head.

“You look like shit,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi laughed a little, ran his hand back through his hair and nodded his head. “Let’s go to bed, aye?”

“Okay,” Masayoshi said, and when Gotou put his hand on Masayoshi’s back to guide him into his room, he leaned back just a little into his touch.
#


It was tight, and awkward, and cramped beyond all reasoning and maybe just a little bit too warm. All the same, when Gotou woke up with a crick in his neck and Masayoshi’s face tucked against his throat, heartbeat loud and solid against his chest… it felt right, in a way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

The brush of lips across his forehead, playful smile on her lips, ‘I won’t be long…’

Gotou swallowed around the lump in his throat and tilted his face into Masayoshi’s hair. That was something he wasn’t allowed to have again…

… was it?

“Gotou-san,” Masayoshi’s voice, muffled and sleepy. “Your emotions are too heavy, go back to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Gotou said softly, and closed his eyes, tried to push the thoughts away. “Okay.”

Profile

scriveyner: (Default)
historically inaccurate but well-meaning t-rex

Custom Text

Links