historically inaccurate but well-meaning t-rex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scriveyner) wrote2016-06-23 05:29 pm
scriveyner) wrote2016-06-23 05:29 pm
Samurai Flamenco - Chords [Gotoyoshi]
Title: Chords
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 2678
Summary: It was still dark out when Gotou woke, half his face pressed into a pillow.
It was still dark out when Gotou woke, half his face pressed into a pillow. He blinked his eyes slowly in the dimness, unsure of what had roused him. It was far too early for his alarm, daylight had not yet begun to creep along the bottom of the shade. He yawned and groped along the edge of the pillow, feeling blindly for his cell phone, to check the time.
The mattress shifted with him and Gotou froze. Masayoshi’s breaths were calm and even beside him, he still sleep peacefully. Gotou felt as if every fine hair on the back of his neck pricked up, and he shivered, cold despite himself. Something didn’t feel right.
Out of habit, he sat up to check on Masayoshi. It was an old fear, buried deep; he would wake one morning and Masayoshi would be gone. But no, Masayoshi was there beside him, sleeping on his side, one arm tucked under his head, drooling slightly as he did when he slept with his mouth open. His other arm, and hand, were reached out into the gulf of mattress between them, toward Gotou. When he was on his side, Masayoshi’s fingertips would brush his back.
He smiled, despite himself – Masayoshi’s sleeping face, even when drooling, had a calming effect. He brushed Masayoshi’s hand gently with his own, and on cue Masayoshi’s fingers went slack enough for Gotou to thread his fingers through. Gotou leaned over Masayoshi, brushed some of his dark tawny hair from his temple, and kissed him gently there.
Masayoshi made a sleepy noise, and Gotou hesitated. He hadn’t intended to wake Masayoshi. “Mm, Hidenori…?” Masayoshi asked sleepily, without opening his eyes.
“Go back to sleep,” Gotou murmured, and brushed his hand through Masayoshi’s hair calmingly. “It’s not time to get up yet.”
“Mmm,” Masayoshi didn’t say anything else, just hummed a little as he sank back into the clutches of sleep. Gotou smiled as he watched Masayoshi’s breath even out, and thought for a moment, how lucky he was.
His phone vibrated under the pillow, a soft buzz, and Masayoshi made another small noise as Gotou shifted across the bed to retrieve it. The bright light of the phone screen dazzled him momentarily, and he winced, squinting at the display.
“Who’s texting you at … what time is it?” Masayoshi’s voice was still super-drowsy, and now muffled as he had buried his face completely in the pillow.
“It’s just Nick,” Gotou locked his phone and dropped the room into darkness once again. Masayoshi made another noise and rolled his head slightly, so that one sleepy eye emerged from the pillow. “He just got off shift, wanted to know if we’d be interested in going doubles to that new amusement park later today.”
Masayoshi yawned and, with the offending light of the phone gone, rolled over. “I’m glad you’re friends with your coworker,” he murmured. He curled in toward Gotou and yawned again, settling back into the mattress and drifting off so quickly it frankly made Gotou jealous.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes, then,” Gotou said softly, and mostly to himself. Masayoshi didn’t respond, and Gotou carefully slipped out of bed. He wasn’t going to get back to sleep so easily, so might as well make some coffee.
#
He responded to the text – and a few more besides, standing in front of the coffee maker. The display on the electronic clock read just a little after four, and Gotou scratched his jaw and yawned. Two years ago he was up this early too, unable to sleep, stomach knotted in worry and three-quarters of the way through a pack of cigarettes he had bought the previous day. Gotou let out a little amused noise at himself as he waited on the coffee. How things had changed.
Masayoshi emerged about an hour later, wearing the shirt that went with the pajama pants Gotou was wearing. He bypassed Gotou’s coffee and beelined for the couch, nestling into Gotou’s side like he planned on going right back to sleep. “You don’t have to get up,” Gotou said, lifting his arm automatically, so that Masayoshi could make himself more comfortable. “You can sleep in, if you want. I’ll make breakfast.”
“Don’t want breakfast,” Masayoshi said, and cracked his eyes open, head resting against Gotou’s. “Want Hidenori.”
He laughed as Masayoshi nuzzled his head, then slid a hand into the waistband of his pajama pants. “You haven’t even brushed your teeth yet,” Gotou teased lightly when Masayoshi kissed him. Masayoshi wrinkled his nose and made a face.
“You taste like coffee and cigarettes,” he said, sticking out his tongue. Then he pinched Gotou’s cheek. “You’re not supposed to be smoking in the house!”
“I didn’t smoke in the house – ow, Masayoshi-!” Gotou tried to twist out of Masayoshi’s iron grip, and went sideways on the couch, Masayoshi’s weight forcing him down. Gotou rubbed his cheek and meant to glare but Masayoshi ducked his head and kissed the side of his face and he laughed instead. “How come whenever I want a quickie before work it’s ‘too early for sex?’” he asked, and Masayoshi bit his neck possessively.
“Because,” he said, planting one hand on Gotou’s bare chest and pushing himself up. “You don’t know what a quickie is.” He laughed a little, already breathless, as Gotou settled both his hands on Masayoshi’s hips.
“I do too know what a quickie is,” Gotou said, annoyed.
“Well you certainly don’t know how to do them quickly,” Masayoshi huffed, but he was grinning. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Sounds exactly like what you were doing,” Gotou retorted, and Masayoshi shrugged a little.
“You asked why we couldn’t do quickies in the morning, it’s because your definition of a quickie requires at least an hour, plus clean up and a shower.” Masayoshi shifted his balance so that he was seated directly across Gotou’s lap. “Do you want me to ride you, or do you want me to fuck you? I’m up for either,” he added, rubbing his palm across Gotou’s chest slowly.
“You are way too perky for having just woken up,” Gotou said, amused, as Masayoshi kissed him again. “Mm,” he hummed, hands slipping back along Masayoshi’s hips, massaging the muscle. “Ride me,” he said, when Masayoshi let him up for air.
“I love you,” Masayoshi said, shifting so he could lean down and kiss Gotou’s chest.
“I love you too,” Gotou said, running his fingers into Masayoshi’s hair as he bit tenderly and determinedly at Gotou’s chest, then ran his tongue over a nipple, and again, and again, because he seemed to enjoy it. Gotou let out a low noise of appreciation as Masayoshi started to turn his attentions southward.
“Hey,” Gotou murmured, catching at the sleeve of Masayoshi’s pajama top. “Bring your ass over here, I’ll prep you.”
Now, Masayoshi had the good graces to flush finally, turning pink across the bridge of his nose in the most endearing way. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and shuffled around on the couch so his knees were pressed into the cushion on either side of Gotou’s face.
“I really like that you’re not wearing underwear with my pajamas,” Gotou teased, one hand on Masayoshi’s thigh as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the muscle there.
Masayoshi said, bright red, “I am going to sit on your face.”
Gotou laughed as he wrapped his hand around Masayoshi’s cock and stroked it a few times, loose and slow. “There are worse ways to go,” he said philosophically, and laughed again as Masayoshi yanked his pants and underwear down enough to free him, too. “That would certainly be a headline, though, "World President’s Husband Suffocated by His Perfect Ass.”“
"STOP,” Masayoshi squawked and Gotou only laughed harder. “Oh, my god,” Masayoshi moaned, pressing his forehead into Gotou’s leg. “Oh, oh-” The embarrassment shifted as Gotou pressed a finger into him, slowly. There was silence for a long moment, punctuated only by Masayoshi’s slow breaths.
“Okay, I know how badly you just want to hop on my dick all the time,” Gotou said, “but we really do need lube for this. Sorry, Masayoshi.”
Masayoshi gritted his teeth and shifted, but didn’t climb off the couch. He reached into the front pocket of the pajamas and twisted, nearly slamming the half-used tube into Gotou’s face. “I didn’t forget,” he said, and Gotou snorted before uncapping the bottle.
It was different every time, Gotou knew, but there was also still a comfortable familiarity. Masayoshi hadn’t taken off the pajama top, but several buttons had come undone, and the collar had slid off of one shoulder. His skin shimmered slightly in the warm early morning light as he settled himself across Gotou’s lap.
He didn’t have to look where they were connected – Masayoshi was paying attention to that as he moved slowly, rocking back and forth, sinking down on Gotou until he was entirely inside. Instead he watched the slow crawl of satisfaction on Masayoshi’s face as he took all of Gotou, and sat finally as close to flush on Gotou’s lap.
Masayoshi was soft and tight and hot, slick with the copious amount of lube that still wet Gotou’s hands. He put one hand on Masayoshi’s hip, the other clutching the edge of the couch’s cushion.
“I’m gonna move,” Masayoshi said finally, blue eyes hazy through his thick eyelashes, watching Gotou intently.
“Whenever you want to,” Gotou murmured, and caught his breath on an inhale as Masayoshi pushed himself up and sank back down again. God, Masayoshi in the early morning sunlight, growing brighter every second, the sweat glistening as it slid down his face and dripped into the collar of his top. He couldn’t take it.
Masayoshi leaned over him, both palms pressed to his shoulders, keeping him back against the couch as he rode him, slowly and deliberately. “Stay,” Masayoshi groaned. “I’ll do it.”
Breathing hard, Gotou held on to Masayoshi’s hips and watched him, in the sunrise.
#
When Gotou got out of the shower, Masayoshi was sitting on the floor in front of the television, doing stretches and rewatching an episode of the original Red Axe series. “Ah,” Masayoshi said, and rolled onto his back. “Can you hold my feet for me?”
Masayoshi was dedicated to his workout routine, even if his days of regular hero-ing were behind him. Gotou sat and held his feet while Masayoshi did sit-ups, his attention not on the number (Gotou idly kept count in his mind), but on the episode he had seen so many times that Gotou knew it by heart.
“When are we going,” Masayoshi asked, between reps, “to meet Nick-kun?”
“After lunch. He’s bringing his new boyfriend, please don’t freak him out.”
Masayoshi pressed his lips together into a flat line and thought hard. “Is this the one I met at the police box a few weeks back?”
“The one you sent into shock because you’re an ex-Flamenger, yes.” Gotou smacked Masayoshi’s knee. “My coffee’s getting cold. You want breakfast?”
“Yes, please!” Masayoshi beamed. “You’re making it?”
“Yes, because I don’t want curry for breakfast.” Gotou’s tone was teasing, though, as he stood up. “What do you want to do before we meet them at the park?”
Masayoshi flopped backward so that he lay spread-eagle on the floor, chest heaving a little with the exertion. “Do I really get to pick?” He watched Gotou upside-down as he puttered about in the kitchen, preparing to start breakfast.
“Within reason,” Gotou said automatically, and Masayoshi laughed.
“It’s like it’s my birthday!” he said. “Hidenori making me breakfast, letting me pick what we do for the day…” He sat up suddenly, and scrambled to his feet. Gotou leaned over the low bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the main room, and watched as Masayoshi flailed himself down the hallway.
“Masayoshi?”
“Be right back!”
Gotou stood in the threshold of the kitchen and debated going after Masayoshi, but after a moment Masayoshi came running back down the hall, a bag clutched tight to his chest. “That reminded me,” Masayoshi said excitedly. “It’s not like it’s my birthday, it’s like it’s our birthday! Of being together!”
He laughed a little at Masayoshi’s enthusiasm. “That’s kind of the definition of an anniversary, 'yoshi.” He looked down at the bag that was thrust into his arms by Masayoshi. “What’s this?”
“So I got you a thing,” Masayoshi said, blushing a little again, earnestly. “It’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”
Gotou opened the simple brown paper bag and pulled out two small books of sheet music, for guitar. He stared at them, a little surprised. “I heard you playing,” Masayoshi said, now sliding slightly into sheepish. “The other day. It sounded like you missed it.”
“Masayoshi,” Gotou said, a little overwhelmed. A few weeks back he had helped his mother clean out her house, and discovered an old guitar he had played with when he was in high school. He’d taken it back with him more at his mother’s insistence, and had fiddled with it a little one night, nostalgic.
“Is it … okay?” Masayoshi asked tentatively, clearly uncertain about the expression on Gotou’s face.
Gotou grabbed Masayoshi by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “It’s great, Masayoshi, thank you.”
“Will you play for me, after breakfast?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou laughed a little and kissed the side of his head.
“I’m really rusty,” he said, and Masayoshi pulled back a little, his face falling. “But,” Gotou said. “I’d love to.”
Masayoshi clapped his hands together excitedly. “I’ll help with breakfast, then! What are you making?”
“Get the eggs out of the fridge,” Gotou said as he set the paper bag on the counter. “And don’t DROP THEM this time…”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 2678
Summary: It was still dark out when Gotou woke, half his face pressed into a pillow.
It was still dark out when Gotou woke, half his face pressed into a pillow. He blinked his eyes slowly in the dimness, unsure of what had roused him. It was far too early for his alarm, daylight had not yet begun to creep along the bottom of the shade. He yawned and groped along the edge of the pillow, feeling blindly for his cell phone, to check the time.
The mattress shifted with him and Gotou froze. Masayoshi’s breaths were calm and even beside him, he still sleep peacefully. Gotou felt as if every fine hair on the back of his neck pricked up, and he shivered, cold despite himself. Something didn’t feel right.
Out of habit, he sat up to check on Masayoshi. It was an old fear, buried deep; he would wake one morning and Masayoshi would be gone. But no, Masayoshi was there beside him, sleeping on his side, one arm tucked under his head, drooling slightly as he did when he slept with his mouth open. His other arm, and hand, were reached out into the gulf of mattress between them, toward Gotou. When he was on his side, Masayoshi’s fingertips would brush his back.
He smiled, despite himself – Masayoshi’s sleeping face, even when drooling, had a calming effect. He brushed Masayoshi’s hand gently with his own, and on cue Masayoshi’s fingers went slack enough for Gotou to thread his fingers through. Gotou leaned over Masayoshi, brushed some of his dark tawny hair from his temple, and kissed him gently there.
Masayoshi made a sleepy noise, and Gotou hesitated. He hadn’t intended to wake Masayoshi. “Mm, Hidenori…?” Masayoshi asked sleepily, without opening his eyes.
“Go back to sleep,” Gotou murmured, and brushed his hand through Masayoshi’s hair calmingly. “It’s not time to get up yet.”
“Mmm,” Masayoshi didn’t say anything else, just hummed a little as he sank back into the clutches of sleep. Gotou smiled as he watched Masayoshi’s breath even out, and thought for a moment, how lucky he was.
His phone vibrated under the pillow, a soft buzz, and Masayoshi made another small noise as Gotou shifted across the bed to retrieve it. The bright light of the phone screen dazzled him momentarily, and he winced, squinting at the display.
“Who’s texting you at … what time is it?” Masayoshi’s voice was still super-drowsy, and now muffled as he had buried his face completely in the pillow.
“It’s just Nick,” Gotou locked his phone and dropped the room into darkness once again. Masayoshi made another noise and rolled his head slightly, so that one sleepy eye emerged from the pillow. “He just got off shift, wanted to know if we’d be interested in going doubles to that new amusement park later today.”
Masayoshi yawned and, with the offending light of the phone gone, rolled over. “I’m glad you’re friends with your coworker,” he murmured. He curled in toward Gotou and yawned again, settling back into the mattress and drifting off so quickly it frankly made Gotou jealous.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes, then,” Gotou said softly, and mostly to himself. Masayoshi didn’t respond, and Gotou carefully slipped out of bed. He wasn’t going to get back to sleep so easily, so might as well make some coffee.
He responded to the text – and a few more besides, standing in front of the coffee maker. The display on the electronic clock read just a little after four, and Gotou scratched his jaw and yawned. Two years ago he was up this early too, unable to sleep, stomach knotted in worry and three-quarters of the way through a pack of cigarettes he had bought the previous day. Gotou let out a little amused noise at himself as he waited on the coffee. How things had changed.
Masayoshi emerged about an hour later, wearing the shirt that went with the pajama pants Gotou was wearing. He bypassed Gotou’s coffee and beelined for the couch, nestling into Gotou’s side like he planned on going right back to sleep. “You don’t have to get up,” Gotou said, lifting his arm automatically, so that Masayoshi could make himself more comfortable. “You can sleep in, if you want. I’ll make breakfast.”
“Don’t want breakfast,” Masayoshi said, and cracked his eyes open, head resting against Gotou’s. “Want Hidenori.”
He laughed as Masayoshi nuzzled his head, then slid a hand into the waistband of his pajama pants. “You haven’t even brushed your teeth yet,” Gotou teased lightly when Masayoshi kissed him. Masayoshi wrinkled his nose and made a face.
“You taste like coffee and cigarettes,” he said, sticking out his tongue. Then he pinched Gotou’s cheek. “You’re not supposed to be smoking in the house!”
“I didn’t smoke in the house – ow, Masayoshi-!” Gotou tried to twist out of Masayoshi’s iron grip, and went sideways on the couch, Masayoshi’s weight forcing him down. Gotou rubbed his cheek and meant to glare but Masayoshi ducked his head and kissed the side of his face and he laughed instead. “How come whenever I want a quickie before work it’s ‘too early for sex?’” he asked, and Masayoshi bit his neck possessively.
“Because,” he said, planting one hand on Gotou’s bare chest and pushing himself up. “You don’t know what a quickie is.” He laughed a little, already breathless, as Gotou settled both his hands on Masayoshi’s hips.
“I do too know what a quickie is,” Gotou said, annoyed.
“Well you certainly don’t know how to do them quickly,” Masayoshi huffed, but he was grinning. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Sounds exactly like what you were doing,” Gotou retorted, and Masayoshi shrugged a little.
“You asked why we couldn’t do quickies in the morning, it’s because your definition of a quickie requires at least an hour, plus clean up and a shower.” Masayoshi shifted his balance so that he was seated directly across Gotou’s lap. “Do you want me to ride you, or do you want me to fuck you? I’m up for either,” he added, rubbing his palm across Gotou’s chest slowly.
“You are way too perky for having just woken up,” Gotou said, amused, as Masayoshi kissed him again. “Mm,” he hummed, hands slipping back along Masayoshi’s hips, massaging the muscle. “Ride me,” he said, when Masayoshi let him up for air.
“I love you,” Masayoshi said, shifting so he could lean down and kiss Gotou’s chest.
“I love you too,” Gotou said, running his fingers into Masayoshi’s hair as he bit tenderly and determinedly at Gotou’s chest, then ran his tongue over a nipple, and again, and again, because he seemed to enjoy it. Gotou let out a low noise of appreciation as Masayoshi started to turn his attentions southward.
“Hey,” Gotou murmured, catching at the sleeve of Masayoshi’s pajama top. “Bring your ass over here, I’ll prep you.”
Now, Masayoshi had the good graces to flush finally, turning pink across the bridge of his nose in the most endearing way. “Yeah, okay,” he said, and shuffled around on the couch so his knees were pressed into the cushion on either side of Gotou’s face.
“I really like that you’re not wearing underwear with my pajamas,” Gotou teased, one hand on Masayoshi’s thigh as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the muscle there.
Masayoshi said, bright red, “I am going to sit on your face.”
Gotou laughed as he wrapped his hand around Masayoshi’s cock and stroked it a few times, loose and slow. “There are worse ways to go,” he said philosophically, and laughed again as Masayoshi yanked his pants and underwear down enough to free him, too. “That would certainly be a headline, though, "World President’s Husband Suffocated by His Perfect Ass.”“
"STOP,” Masayoshi squawked and Gotou only laughed harder. “Oh, my god,” Masayoshi moaned, pressing his forehead into Gotou’s leg. “Oh, oh-” The embarrassment shifted as Gotou pressed a finger into him, slowly. There was silence for a long moment, punctuated only by Masayoshi’s slow breaths.
“Okay, I know how badly you just want to hop on my dick all the time,” Gotou said, “but we really do need lube for this. Sorry, Masayoshi.”
Masayoshi gritted his teeth and shifted, but didn’t climb off the couch. He reached into the front pocket of the pajamas and twisted, nearly slamming the half-used tube into Gotou’s face. “I didn’t forget,” he said, and Gotou snorted before uncapping the bottle.
It was different every time, Gotou knew, but there was also still a comfortable familiarity. Masayoshi hadn’t taken off the pajama top, but several buttons had come undone, and the collar had slid off of one shoulder. His skin shimmered slightly in the warm early morning light as he settled himself across Gotou’s lap.
He didn’t have to look where they were connected – Masayoshi was paying attention to that as he moved slowly, rocking back and forth, sinking down on Gotou until he was entirely inside. Instead he watched the slow crawl of satisfaction on Masayoshi’s face as he took all of Gotou, and sat finally as close to flush on Gotou’s lap.
Masayoshi was soft and tight and hot, slick with the copious amount of lube that still wet Gotou’s hands. He put one hand on Masayoshi’s hip, the other clutching the edge of the couch’s cushion.
“I’m gonna move,” Masayoshi said finally, blue eyes hazy through his thick eyelashes, watching Gotou intently.
“Whenever you want to,” Gotou murmured, and caught his breath on an inhale as Masayoshi pushed himself up and sank back down again. God, Masayoshi in the early morning sunlight, growing brighter every second, the sweat glistening as it slid down his face and dripped into the collar of his top. He couldn’t take it.
Masayoshi leaned over him, both palms pressed to his shoulders, keeping him back against the couch as he rode him, slowly and deliberately. “Stay,” Masayoshi groaned. “I’ll do it.”
Breathing hard, Gotou held on to Masayoshi’s hips and watched him, in the sunrise.
When Gotou got out of the shower, Masayoshi was sitting on the floor in front of the television, doing stretches and rewatching an episode of the original Red Axe series. “Ah,” Masayoshi said, and rolled onto his back. “Can you hold my feet for me?”
Masayoshi was dedicated to his workout routine, even if his days of regular hero-ing were behind him. Gotou sat and held his feet while Masayoshi did sit-ups, his attention not on the number (Gotou idly kept count in his mind), but on the episode he had seen so many times that Gotou knew it by heart.
“When are we going,” Masayoshi asked, between reps, “to meet Nick-kun?”
“After lunch. He’s bringing his new boyfriend, please don’t freak him out.”
Masayoshi pressed his lips together into a flat line and thought hard. “Is this the one I met at the police box a few weeks back?”
“The one you sent into shock because you’re an ex-Flamenger, yes.” Gotou smacked Masayoshi’s knee. “My coffee’s getting cold. You want breakfast?”
“Yes, please!” Masayoshi beamed. “You’re making it?”
“Yes, because I don’t want curry for breakfast.” Gotou’s tone was teasing, though, as he stood up. “What do you want to do before we meet them at the park?”
Masayoshi flopped backward so that he lay spread-eagle on the floor, chest heaving a little with the exertion. “Do I really get to pick?” He watched Gotou upside-down as he puttered about in the kitchen, preparing to start breakfast.
“Within reason,” Gotou said automatically, and Masayoshi laughed.
“It’s like it’s my birthday!” he said. “Hidenori making me breakfast, letting me pick what we do for the day…” He sat up suddenly, and scrambled to his feet. Gotou leaned over the low bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the main room, and watched as Masayoshi flailed himself down the hallway.
“Masayoshi?”
“Be right back!”
Gotou stood in the threshold of the kitchen and debated going after Masayoshi, but after a moment Masayoshi came running back down the hall, a bag clutched tight to his chest. “That reminded me,” Masayoshi said excitedly. “It’s not like it’s my birthday, it’s like it’s our birthday! Of being together!”
He laughed a little at Masayoshi’s enthusiasm. “That’s kind of the definition of an anniversary, 'yoshi.” He looked down at the bag that was thrust into his arms by Masayoshi. “What’s this?”
“So I got you a thing,” Masayoshi said, blushing a little again, earnestly. “It’s not much, but I saw it and thought of you.”
Gotou opened the simple brown paper bag and pulled out two small books of sheet music, for guitar. He stared at them, a little surprised. “I heard you playing,” Masayoshi said, now sliding slightly into sheepish. “The other day. It sounded like you missed it.”
“Masayoshi,” Gotou said, a little overwhelmed. A few weeks back he had helped his mother clean out her house, and discovered an old guitar he had played with when he was in high school. He’d taken it back with him more at his mother’s insistence, and had fiddled with it a little one night, nostalgic.
“Is it … okay?” Masayoshi asked tentatively, clearly uncertain about the expression on Gotou’s face.
Gotou grabbed Masayoshi by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “It’s great, Masayoshi, thank you.”
“Will you play for me, after breakfast?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou laughed a little and kissed the side of his head.
“I’m really rusty,” he said, and Masayoshi pulled back a little, his face falling. “But,” Gotou said. “I’d love to.”
Masayoshi clapped his hands together excitedly. “I’ll help with breakfast, then! What are you making?”
“Get the eggs out of the fridge,” Gotou said as he set the paper bag on the counter. “And don’t DROP THEM this time…”