![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: Crash the Gates [3]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Gates'verse
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Kanata/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 2540
Summary: Gotou stopped beside the booth and raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was going to be just you, tonight,” he said, expertly identifying his Masayoshi by the half angry, half embarrassed flush across his nose.
Gotou stopped beside the booth and raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was going to be just you, tonight,” he said, expertly identifying his Masayoshi by the half angry, half embarrassed flush across his nose. Masayoshi jerked in his seat and glanced up, the flush burning brighter as he noticed Gotou’s arrival. “Help,” he said faintly, as the other Masayoshi - Kanata, he went by now for simplicity’s sake - elbowed him in the kidney and grinned sharply.
He had gotten a text from Masayoshi in the last hour of his shift - the shoot had been canceled, did he want to meet for dinner? It had been a long time since they’d had a normal evening and Gotou had quickly accepted; this restaurant had quickly become their go-to place when they wanted food that didn’t come in a pouch. Plus, they had good specials on alcohol, not that Masayoshi drank.
Plus, the booths had some modicum of privacy, which was nice given the general state of insanity his life had spiraled into once he met Masayoshi.
Kanata was sitting on the outside of the bench, keeping Masayoshi pinned in and unable to escape easily. “Yo,” he said, greeting Gotou by raising his glass of amber liquid. “It’s about time you showed up, can we order some food now, I’m famished.”
Masayoshi’s face was beleaguered, almost to the point of comedy. Gotou did not snicker, especially not when he saw who else was in the booth, sitting on his side. “Long time no see,” Mari said, and raised her glass, that matched Kanata’s.
Gotou looked at Masayoshi, who sighed deeply. “They followed me here, Gotou-san, I didn’t invite them.”
Kanata elbowed Masayoshi again and he squirmed and tried to get away. “Don’t worry, lover boy, I’m not crashing your evening tonight. Just thought I’d mooch a quick meal off my brother since I’m sure he won’t be back for breakfast.” Kanata’s grin was predatory and it would be eerie seeing such an expression on Masayoshi’s face if he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that they were identical to the eyelash.
He sighed deeply and sat down next to Mari, who was staring at him. “What?”
She gave him a long, thoughtful look. “I thought you were fucking the evil twin,” she said, and then looked across the table at Masayoshi, who made a miserable noise and buried his face in his arms. “But you’re fucking Samumenco too, aren’t you?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Gotou said calmly, although the way his ears turned pink probably gave him away.
“I was going to yell at you for fucking the bad guy,” Mari said. “But I think now I’m just impressed.”
Gotou glared silently across the table at Masayoshi, who still had his face buried in his arms, but his ears were scarlet, like the rest of his face. Kanata set his chin in his hand and pushed his half-full glass toward Gotou. “You probably need this more than I do,” he said. “I tried to get brother to drink something but you know how he gets.”
“Fuck you,” emerged, muffled, from Masayoshi’s arms.
Gotou’s eyebrow raised in surprise, and Kanata laughed. “I feel you might be a bad influence on him,” Gotou said.
“That’s the plan,” Kanata almost purred.
Mari shook her head. “This is just wrong,” she said. “Things like that shouldn’t come out of a face like his, it’s all screwed up.”
“Tell me about it,” Gotou said. He looked over at her suspiciously. “So where are Moe and Mizuki tonight?”
“They think I’m working on songs,” Mari said airily, and drained her glass to the bottom. “And I am,” she added, at the disbelief on Gotou’s face. “Songs about how the good guy fucked the enemy right under everyone’s noses-”
“Stop,” Gotou said, as the waitress arrived to take everyone’s order and, thankfully, bring him his own beer.
#
He felt a little bad for Masayoshi by the end of the evening, because Kanata and Mari both would gang up on him. The range of color he could get in his face was impressive, and the fact that they never let the blush fade out made him worry that maybe he’d burst a blood vessel somewhere. But, eventually, Mari had to leave - and Kanata, strangely, offered to escort her home.
“Don’t trust him,” Masayoshi warned as they left.
“If he tries anything I’ll crush his sack with my bare hands,” Mari said sweetly. Kanata didn’t flinch, although Masayoshi did.
“That’s weird,” Gotou said as they watched Kanata and Mari walk off together down the street. “That’s really weird. What’s going on there?”
“I don’t know,” Masayoshi said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “He’s up to something.”
“He’s always up to something,” Gotou said. “The real thing to worry about is - is it going to involve world domination in some manner?”
Masayoshi let out a tired chuckle at that. “I don’t think he’s interested in world domination,” he said.
“If he was he’d just wait until you were elected president of the world,” Gotou said, lighting a cigarette. “Then he’d get rid of you somehow and just take your place. How many people whodon’t know you can tell the two of you apart, anyway?”
Gotou paused when he realized that Masayoshi was staring at him, horrified, mouth slightly open.
“…shit,” Gotou said calmly. “Forget I said that?”
“How can I forget?” Masayoshi said. “That’s going to fester. Oh my god.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s interested in killing you,” Gotou said helpfully.
“Gotou-san!”
Masayoshi stood there, his fists balled up in front of him and this expression on his face that was somewhere between horrified and determined, and Gotou realized that he was thinking of ways to heroically stop his evil twin from executing a master plan that his evil twin had very likely already thought up and decided was too much effort to see through to completion. “He’s wearing a mask in the delusion you’ve constructed, isn’t he?” Gotou said, and Masayoshi furrowed his eyebrows.
“How did you know?”
A small party of people exited the restaurant down the sidewalk from them, chattering and happy. Gotou took the cigarette out of his mouth as a couple kept glancing their way, furtive glances as if Gotou couldn’t see them trying to figure out if Masayoshi was who they thought he was.
“Let’s go home,” Gotou suggested, taking Masayoshi’s arm and steering him the other way on the sidewalk. Masayoshi exhaled and rolled his eyes, but let himself be pointed in the direction of Gotou’s apartment.
#
Beyond made him paranoid. He’d been around for months now, and aside from inserting himself (in all senses, Masayoshi had blushed so much tonight he might as well paint his face red) into every bit of Masayoshi’s life he’d done … nothing bad. Nothing even hinting at actual evil, he hadn’t even littered in Masayoshi’s presence.
(Okay, there was that one time, but it was specifically aimed at getting a rise out of Masayoshi so he figured it didn’t count.)
So excluding the fact he did things specifically and intentionally aimed at making Masayoshi yell, he’d done nothing to raise suspicions in the slightest, a fact that made Masayoshi even more suspicious. What if he was planning a long con? What if, like Gotou said, he was planning to take over the world, letting Masayoshi do all the hard work? What if …
What if he was just settling into a new life, and just liked to tease Masayoshi?
Masayoshi ran both of his hands through his hair and let out an aggravated noise, before thunking his forehead into the table. Gotou didn’t jump, but he did move his drink out of the danger zone. “You are wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” he said, and Masayoshi groaned into the table.
“Do you trust Beyond?” he asked.
Gotou was silent for a moment, and Masayoshi raised his head to look at him. Gotou wasn’t looking at him - but off past him, through the wall and into the distance, considering it. “I guess I do,” he said finally, and looked back at Masayoshi. “At his core, he’s not really that different from you, you know.”
“I’m nothing like him,” Masayoshi said, scandalized.
“Really?” Gotou murmured. He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along Masayoshi’s cheek. “He relaxes when he’s around you, I don’t even think he notices it. Kanata trusts you, why can’t you do the same?”
Masayoshi sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into Gotou’s soft touch. “What if I lower my guard, and he hurts someone?” he said. “What if he hurts you, Gotou-san? I can’t-”
“Don’t worry about me,” Gotou murmured, bringing their faces closer. “I’m on your side, remember? I’ll watch your back.”
Gotou’s mouth was warm and welcoming, and Masayoshi opened his own with another soft sigh under the press of Gotou’s lips. He tilted his head, just slightly, eyes closed as Gotou’s teeth scraped his bottom lip, tugging gently. This was - this was very nice, and it helped him forget the disquiet, the way the worry buzzed in his gut like a constant presence…
“Masayoshi,” Gotou breathed across his mouth, breath alcohol-scented - his eyes were dark, they were always dark but even this close … Masayoshi bit his own bottom lip, closed his eyes and tilted his forehead against Gotou’s. He felt so safe here, with Gotou touching him it was like nothing else really mattered.
The fleeting thought that this was their first time alone skittered across his brain. Gotou carded his hand back through Masayoshi’s hair, drawing him closer and Masayoshi went, kneeling over Gotou’s lap. He settled both his hands on Gotou’s face - Gotou looked up at him, calm and cool, the flush of arousal, not embarrassment, painting his face pink. He wanted to ask what they were doing here, what any of this meant - did it even mean anything? Instead he kissed Gotou again and groaned into his mouth.
#
It was different, when it was just the two of them.
Gotou was slow and tender, legs braced apart, Masayoshi in his lap. He left a lot of it up to Masayoshi, forcing Masayoshi to make the choice to ride him, to move his hips and slide up and down, carefully savoring the stretch and burn. He felt so good, Gotou fit so well and got so deep, Masayoshi tilted his head back and groaned to the ceiling.
“Gotou-san,” he breathed, his voice heavy, sweat sliding down the back of his neck. Gotou was looking up at him reverently, he could feel his eyes burning through his skin, raking over his flesh, searing him through. He hadn’t put a name to the feeling in his chest, warm and building, ignited and stoked by Gotou’s eyes, Gotou’s hands, Gotou’s mouth….
“Masayoshi,” Gotou said, his name a lyric, his hands clamping down on Masayoshi’s hips and holding him there as he rolled his hips up harder.
He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t care, all that mattered in this moment was right in front of him. Masayoshi tilted Gotou’s face up to his, pressed their foreheads together, and rode this wave to its completion.
#
He didn’t even know what to call himself anymore. He’d chosen a name - it made sense, there was no need for two Hazama Masayoshis in this world, especially not when he was the impostor, the broken one, the one who lost his path - but his new name didn’t quite fit him yet. He scratched his jaw with the back of the touch-screen stylus and made a show of yawning, seated at the bar that ran the length of the coffee shop, looking out at the dark street beyond.
He’d walked Diamond about two blocks, just far enough to get out of sight, while she threatened him with various injuries to his manhood with a smile on her face, tone low and menacing. If he hurt Hidenori, if he hurt Masayoshi… she was protective of them both, for as flippant as she seemed.
The coffee shop was fairly busy, people bustling in and out constantly. Kanata watched the boy in the reflection of the window. He was watching Kanata, pretending to be involved in something on a laptop, eyes darting up frequently. The angle he was at meant he couldn’t see Kanata’s reflection clearly, meant that he couldn’t see that Kanata was watching him right back.
This wasn’t the same sort of ogling he’d quickly grown used to, being ‘mistaken’ for Masayoshi (wasn’t he still, Masayoshi himself? Best to forget that, to move on … that name didn’t fit him now either), he’d apologize with that easy, grin, false and flattering and go no, no I get that a lot - no this was different. This wasn’t the casual, ‘is that who I think it is?’ glances and nudges … the boy was observing him. Watching him. Stalking him.
Kanata ran his stylus over the touchscreen and tried to keep the smirk from being too obvious. It was about time something fun turned up.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Gates'verse
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Kanata/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 2540
Summary: Gotou stopped beside the booth and raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was going to be just you, tonight,” he said, expertly identifying his Masayoshi by the half angry, half embarrassed flush across his nose.
Gotou stopped beside the booth and raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was going to be just you, tonight,” he said, expertly identifying his Masayoshi by the half angry, half embarrassed flush across his nose. Masayoshi jerked in his seat and glanced up, the flush burning brighter as he noticed Gotou’s arrival. “Help,” he said faintly, as the other Masayoshi - Kanata, he went by now for simplicity’s sake - elbowed him in the kidney and grinned sharply.
He had gotten a text from Masayoshi in the last hour of his shift - the shoot had been canceled, did he want to meet for dinner? It had been a long time since they’d had a normal evening and Gotou had quickly accepted; this restaurant had quickly become their go-to place when they wanted food that didn’t come in a pouch. Plus, they had good specials on alcohol, not that Masayoshi drank.
Plus, the booths had some modicum of privacy, which was nice given the general state of insanity his life had spiraled into once he met Masayoshi.
Kanata was sitting on the outside of the bench, keeping Masayoshi pinned in and unable to escape easily. “Yo,” he said, greeting Gotou by raising his glass of amber liquid. “It’s about time you showed up, can we order some food now, I’m famished.”
Masayoshi’s face was beleaguered, almost to the point of comedy. Gotou did not snicker, especially not when he saw who else was in the booth, sitting on his side. “Long time no see,” Mari said, and raised her glass, that matched Kanata’s.
Gotou looked at Masayoshi, who sighed deeply. “They followed me here, Gotou-san, I didn’t invite them.”
Kanata elbowed Masayoshi again and he squirmed and tried to get away. “Don’t worry, lover boy, I’m not crashing your evening tonight. Just thought I’d mooch a quick meal off my brother since I’m sure he won’t be back for breakfast.” Kanata’s grin was predatory and it would be eerie seeing such an expression on Masayoshi’s face if he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that they were identical to the eyelash.
He sighed deeply and sat down next to Mari, who was staring at him. “What?”
She gave him a long, thoughtful look. “I thought you were fucking the evil twin,” she said, and then looked across the table at Masayoshi, who made a miserable noise and buried his face in his arms. “But you’re fucking Samumenco too, aren’t you?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Gotou said calmly, although the way his ears turned pink probably gave him away.
“I was going to yell at you for fucking the bad guy,” Mari said. “But I think now I’m just impressed.”
Gotou glared silently across the table at Masayoshi, who still had his face buried in his arms, but his ears were scarlet, like the rest of his face. Kanata set his chin in his hand and pushed his half-full glass toward Gotou. “You probably need this more than I do,” he said. “I tried to get brother to drink something but you know how he gets.”
“Fuck you,” emerged, muffled, from Masayoshi’s arms.
Gotou’s eyebrow raised in surprise, and Kanata laughed. “I feel you might be a bad influence on him,” Gotou said.
“That’s the plan,” Kanata almost purred.
Mari shook her head. “This is just wrong,” she said. “Things like that shouldn’t come out of a face like his, it’s all screwed up.”
“Tell me about it,” Gotou said. He looked over at her suspiciously. “So where are Moe and Mizuki tonight?”
“They think I’m working on songs,” Mari said airily, and drained her glass to the bottom. “And I am,” she added, at the disbelief on Gotou’s face. “Songs about how the good guy fucked the enemy right under everyone’s noses-”
“Stop,” Gotou said, as the waitress arrived to take everyone’s order and, thankfully, bring him his own beer.
He felt a little bad for Masayoshi by the end of the evening, because Kanata and Mari both would gang up on him. The range of color he could get in his face was impressive, and the fact that they never let the blush fade out made him worry that maybe he’d burst a blood vessel somewhere. But, eventually, Mari had to leave - and Kanata, strangely, offered to escort her home.
“Don’t trust him,” Masayoshi warned as they left.
“If he tries anything I’ll crush his sack with my bare hands,” Mari said sweetly. Kanata didn’t flinch, although Masayoshi did.
“That’s weird,” Gotou said as they watched Kanata and Mari walk off together down the street. “That’s really weird. What’s going on there?”
“I don’t know,” Masayoshi said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “He’s up to something.”
“He’s always up to something,” Gotou said. “The real thing to worry about is - is it going to involve world domination in some manner?”
Masayoshi let out a tired chuckle at that. “I don’t think he’s interested in world domination,” he said.
“If he was he’d just wait until you were elected president of the world,” Gotou said, lighting a cigarette. “Then he’d get rid of you somehow and just take your place. How many people whodon’t know you can tell the two of you apart, anyway?”
Gotou paused when he realized that Masayoshi was staring at him, horrified, mouth slightly open.
“…shit,” Gotou said calmly. “Forget I said that?”
“How can I forget?” Masayoshi said. “That’s going to fester. Oh my god.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s interested in killing you,” Gotou said helpfully.
“Gotou-san!”
Masayoshi stood there, his fists balled up in front of him and this expression on his face that was somewhere between horrified and determined, and Gotou realized that he was thinking of ways to heroically stop his evil twin from executing a master plan that his evil twin had very likely already thought up and decided was too much effort to see through to completion. “He’s wearing a mask in the delusion you’ve constructed, isn’t he?” Gotou said, and Masayoshi furrowed his eyebrows.
“How did you know?”
A small party of people exited the restaurant down the sidewalk from them, chattering and happy. Gotou took the cigarette out of his mouth as a couple kept glancing their way, furtive glances as if Gotou couldn’t see them trying to figure out if Masayoshi was who they thought he was.
“Let’s go home,” Gotou suggested, taking Masayoshi’s arm and steering him the other way on the sidewalk. Masayoshi exhaled and rolled his eyes, but let himself be pointed in the direction of Gotou’s apartment.
Beyond made him paranoid. He’d been around for months now, and aside from inserting himself (in all senses, Masayoshi had blushed so much tonight he might as well paint his face red) into every bit of Masayoshi’s life he’d done … nothing bad. Nothing even hinting at actual evil, he hadn’t even littered in Masayoshi’s presence.
(Okay, there was that one time, but it was specifically aimed at getting a rise out of Masayoshi so he figured it didn’t count.)
So excluding the fact he did things specifically and intentionally aimed at making Masayoshi yell, he’d done nothing to raise suspicions in the slightest, a fact that made Masayoshi even more suspicious. What if he was planning a long con? What if, like Gotou said, he was planning to take over the world, letting Masayoshi do all the hard work? What if …
What if he was just settling into a new life, and just liked to tease Masayoshi?
Masayoshi ran both of his hands through his hair and let out an aggravated noise, before thunking his forehead into the table. Gotou didn’t jump, but he did move his drink out of the danger zone. “You are wound tighter than an eight-day clock,” he said, and Masayoshi groaned into the table.
“Do you trust Beyond?” he asked.
Gotou was silent for a moment, and Masayoshi raised his head to look at him. Gotou wasn’t looking at him - but off past him, through the wall and into the distance, considering it. “I guess I do,” he said finally, and looked back at Masayoshi. “At his core, he’s not really that different from you, you know.”
“I’m nothing like him,” Masayoshi said, scandalized.
“Really?” Gotou murmured. He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along Masayoshi’s cheek. “He relaxes when he’s around you, I don’t even think he notices it. Kanata trusts you, why can’t you do the same?”
Masayoshi sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing into Gotou’s soft touch. “What if I lower my guard, and he hurts someone?” he said. “What if he hurts you, Gotou-san? I can’t-”
“Don’t worry about me,” Gotou murmured, bringing their faces closer. “I’m on your side, remember? I’ll watch your back.”
Gotou’s mouth was warm and welcoming, and Masayoshi opened his own with another soft sigh under the press of Gotou’s lips. He tilted his head, just slightly, eyes closed as Gotou’s teeth scraped his bottom lip, tugging gently. This was - this was very nice, and it helped him forget the disquiet, the way the worry buzzed in his gut like a constant presence…
“Masayoshi,” Gotou breathed across his mouth, breath alcohol-scented - his eyes were dark, they were always dark but even this close … Masayoshi bit his own bottom lip, closed his eyes and tilted his forehead against Gotou’s. He felt so safe here, with Gotou touching him it was like nothing else really mattered.
The fleeting thought that this was their first time alone skittered across his brain. Gotou carded his hand back through Masayoshi’s hair, drawing him closer and Masayoshi went, kneeling over Gotou’s lap. He settled both his hands on Gotou’s face - Gotou looked up at him, calm and cool, the flush of arousal, not embarrassment, painting his face pink. He wanted to ask what they were doing here, what any of this meant - did it even mean anything? Instead he kissed Gotou again and groaned into his mouth.
It was different, when it was just the two of them.
Gotou was slow and tender, legs braced apart, Masayoshi in his lap. He left a lot of it up to Masayoshi, forcing Masayoshi to make the choice to ride him, to move his hips and slide up and down, carefully savoring the stretch and burn. He felt so good, Gotou fit so well and got so deep, Masayoshi tilted his head back and groaned to the ceiling.
“Gotou-san,” he breathed, his voice heavy, sweat sliding down the back of his neck. Gotou was looking up at him reverently, he could feel his eyes burning through his skin, raking over his flesh, searing him through. He hadn’t put a name to the feeling in his chest, warm and building, ignited and stoked by Gotou’s eyes, Gotou’s hands, Gotou’s mouth….
“Masayoshi,” Gotou said, his name a lyric, his hands clamping down on Masayoshi’s hips and holding him there as he rolled his hips up harder.
He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t care, all that mattered in this moment was right in front of him. Masayoshi tilted Gotou’s face up to his, pressed their foreheads together, and rode this wave to its completion.
He didn’t even know what to call himself anymore. He’d chosen a name - it made sense, there was no need for two Hazama Masayoshis in this world, especially not when he was the impostor, the broken one, the one who lost his path - but his new name didn’t quite fit him yet. He scratched his jaw with the back of the touch-screen stylus and made a show of yawning, seated at the bar that ran the length of the coffee shop, looking out at the dark street beyond.
He’d walked Diamond about two blocks, just far enough to get out of sight, while she threatened him with various injuries to his manhood with a smile on her face, tone low and menacing. If he hurt Hidenori, if he hurt Masayoshi… she was protective of them both, for as flippant as she seemed.
The coffee shop was fairly busy, people bustling in and out constantly. Kanata watched the boy in the reflection of the window. He was watching Kanata, pretending to be involved in something on a laptop, eyes darting up frequently. The angle he was at meant he couldn’t see Kanata’s reflection clearly, meant that he couldn’t see that Kanata was watching him right back.
This wasn’t the same sort of ogling he’d quickly grown used to, being ‘mistaken’ for Masayoshi (wasn’t he still, Masayoshi himself? Best to forget that, to move on … that name didn’t fit him now either), he’d apologize with that easy, grin, false and flattering and go no, no I get that a lot - no this was different. This wasn’t the casual, ‘is that who I think it is?’ glances and nudges … the boy was observing him. Watching him. Stalking him.
Kanata ran his stylus over the touchscreen and tried to keep the smirk from being too obvious. It was about time something fun turned up.
