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scriveynerTitle: I Don't Believe in the Sun [9]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 1561
Summary: Masayoshi didn't realize that he had dozed off until he was startled awake by the shift of the mattress.
Masayoshi didn't realize that he had dozed off until he was startled awake by the shift of the mattress. He felt it dip near him – near the edge – and a warm hand brushed his face. He snapped his eyes open – even if he couldn't see it was for dramatic effect – and brought his knee to his chest, prepared to kick Sawada off again. “Don't touch me!” he hissed, and his attacker inhaled, clearly surprised.
“Masayoshi,” Gotou's voice said, and Masayoshi felt something rattle loose in his lungs. He couldn't make out the tone of Gotou's voice, there were too many emotions there. “What the fuck happened, why are you handcuffed to the bed...?”
There was a heartbeat that Masayoshi didn't believe him, thought that maybe Sawada was as good at voice impersonation as he was at slipping drugs into Masayoshi's food – and he shied backwards, hand slipping from his face, his leg still poised to kick. “Don't touch me,” he repeated, with not quite the same level of venom.
The silence was a vast chasm, and as Masayoshi breathed hard through his nose, he identified the sour scent of tobacco smoke – Gotou had smoked, recently, and that in and of itself made him breathe easier, this was Gotou, he was safe now....
“It's me, Masayoshi,” Gotou said – he leaned in close, Masayoshi could feel the warmth of his presence and felt the weirdest ache. He wanted to lean forward more, grab Gotou's shirt in his unrestrained hand, pull him over, kiss him – he wet his lips, and heard Gotou's voice catch. “I'm – I'll find the key, that's got to be hell on your wrist.”
“Did you,” he couldn't stop himself from asking, the words spilling out of his mouth. “Did you see your girlfriend?” He could imagine her in his mind, reminiscent of the older models he worked with, cool and sexy and the perfect match for Gotou, complimenting him. “I need to apologize to you both...”
“Now is not the time,” Gotou said, his voice strange. Masayoshi banged his hand back off the headboard, making the handcuff rattle.
“I can at least apologize to you, Gotou-san. It's not like I'm going anywhere.”
“I'll find the key,” Gotou promised, very conspicuously not responding to his apology. Masayoshi yanked himself forward, as far as he could, when he felt the mattress shift as Gotou moved off of it. He couldn't make himself say it, though – the don't leave me – and he heard Gotou's feet on the bare wood floor in the room, clearly searching.
Just like his nightmare – Gotou appeared again only to leave him behind – leaving with his girlfriend, leaving crippled, broken Masayoshi behind – which, he really didn't have a reason to stay here. He had no obligation to this, yes they were friends, but Masayoshi couldn't give him anything, anymore.
“Come back,” Masayoshi said softly, hitch in his voice despite himself.
He heard the floorboards creak, and could tell that Gotou walked toward him. The bed didn't shift, and he jumped when he felt Gotou catch his hand, drawing it toward him. He squirmed, and then felt Gotou's breath ghost along his knuckles. “I'm not leaving you alone again,” he promised, and Masayoshi choked a little. “Who did this to you, 'yoshi? I need to break someone's ribs.”
“Don't-” Masayoshi yanked his hand away. “His name's Sawada – he's not here? How did you get in?”
“Sawada? Your door was unlocked, I didn't go through the place and clear it, but if he's here he's hiding.”
Masayoshi took a deep breath. “He's still here,” he said.
“Let me get you out of the handcuffs,” Gotou said. “Where's your repair kit, I can get you out with a screwdriver and a hammer.”
He sounded confident and certain and to Masayoshi it felt like the first full breath of air he'd had in twenty-four hours. Yeah he'd fucked up, and they'd deal with it, and he'd apologize to Gotou's girlfriend and move on – but Gotou came back. They could still be friends, if nothing else. “In the kitchen,” he said. “Under the sink.”
“I gotta go to the kitchen then.” Gotou's presence moved away slightly. “I'll be right back though, okay?”
“Be careful,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou actually laughed.
“The kitchen's right there, Masayoshi, I can practically see it from here.”
“Yeah,” Masayoshi said. “Be careful.”
He could hear the amusement in Gotou's voice. “I will.”
#
The doorman of Masayoshi's apartment complex knew Gotou by now, knew the special circumstances and let him in without buzzing him in. He had smoked at least three cigarettes on the long walk over (he'd actually lost count after the first one, because he smoked them furiously, trying to calm himself down) and only stopped because he'd run out and didn't stop to buy another pack.
What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? What did she mean, when she told him he would know how to fix things, to make them right again? So many questions, too many, but he knew he was a coward for running out on Masayoshi instead of trying to sort this out, so he at least owed his friend an apology in person.
He raised his hand to knock on the door, realized that would be silly of him, he could just hear Masayoshi slamming face-first into a wall, and on a whim, tried the doorknob. His stomach twisted weirdly when he realized it was actually unlocked, the way he had left it storming off the previous night.
“Masayoshi?” Gotou called as he let himself in, and his worry only magnified when he realized how quiet and dark the apartment was.
There was no need to turn on the lights for Masayoshi, so it was dim. He walked into the main room – saw the mess from the previous night still sitting on the table in front of the couch – he would have cleaned it before sleeping, if he hadn't run off – and looked around, dread twisting in his gut.
He found Masayoshi asleep in his bed, back against the headrest, one arm up and cuffed to the headboard. He stood in the doorway and stared, dread replaced quite quickly with anger, as he moved forward to check on him. A pulse check was the first thing, as he slipped back into training-mode – but when he touched Masayoshi's face he was warm, and he stirred, turning his face into Gotou's hand before he came awake all at once, ready to fight.
Masayoshi was really good at hiding his emotions sometimes – but the terror that flitted across when he thought that Gotou was someone else made him absolutely sick. When Gotou found out who this Sawada was, he was going to do more than break a few ribs – but Masayoshi didn't need to know that.
He was at least familiar with where the toolbox was stashed, so Gotou crouched in front of the sink, and pulled the small flathead screwdriver and a hammer to use as a mallet. As he stood he turned around, and almost dropped both, because he wasn't alone any more.
“Ah,” the grey-haired teenager said, seated on a stool at the low bar. “Samurai Policeman-san, how good of you to join us finally.”
Gotou gripped the screwdriver and hammer tightly, considered how messy it would be if he struck the kid in the middle of the forehead and realized that Masayoshi probably wouldn't be too happy with him, especially since he'd smell the blood. “Sawada, I presume,” he said instead.
“In the flesh.” Sawada put his chin in both hands and rocked forward, staring at Gotou with a slightly unsettling grin.
“You're under arrest,” Gotou said, shifting his tools to one hand, realizing he didn't have any cuffs of his own, and Sawada laughed. “I'm taking you in, you're messed up, attacking a blind man-”
“Protecting,” Sawada chimed in.
“What the fuck ever.” Gotou pulled out his cell phone, prepared to phone Totsuka.
“I wouldn't do that, Samurai Policeman-san,” Sawada said in a sing-song voice. “I don't thing she would appreciate it, hm?”
Gotou's blood turned to ice in his veins.
“You haven't told Samumenco-san, have you?” Sawada scratched his nose. “Don't you think he deserves to know?”
“There's nothing to know,” Gotou said, his mouth dry. “I'm calling the police.”
“Well then,” Sawada said, and pushed himself back from counter. “I guess I'll just have to be the one to tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Masayoshi asked, one hand on the door frame of the bedroom, unlocked handcuff dangling from his bruised wrist. “What's going on, tell me what, Gotou-san...?”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 1561
Summary: Masayoshi didn't realize that he had dozed off until he was startled awake by the shift of the mattress.
Masayoshi didn't realize that he had dozed off until he was startled awake by the shift of the mattress. He felt it dip near him – near the edge – and a warm hand brushed his face. He snapped his eyes open – even if he couldn't see it was for dramatic effect – and brought his knee to his chest, prepared to kick Sawada off again. “Don't touch me!” he hissed, and his attacker inhaled, clearly surprised.
“Masayoshi,” Gotou's voice said, and Masayoshi felt something rattle loose in his lungs. He couldn't make out the tone of Gotou's voice, there were too many emotions there. “What the fuck happened, why are you handcuffed to the bed...?”
There was a heartbeat that Masayoshi didn't believe him, thought that maybe Sawada was as good at voice impersonation as he was at slipping drugs into Masayoshi's food – and he shied backwards, hand slipping from his face, his leg still poised to kick. “Don't touch me,” he repeated, with not quite the same level of venom.
The silence was a vast chasm, and as Masayoshi breathed hard through his nose, he identified the sour scent of tobacco smoke – Gotou had smoked, recently, and that in and of itself made him breathe easier, this was Gotou, he was safe now....
“It's me, Masayoshi,” Gotou said – he leaned in close, Masayoshi could feel the warmth of his presence and felt the weirdest ache. He wanted to lean forward more, grab Gotou's shirt in his unrestrained hand, pull him over, kiss him – he wet his lips, and heard Gotou's voice catch. “I'm – I'll find the key, that's got to be hell on your wrist.”
“Did you,” he couldn't stop himself from asking, the words spilling out of his mouth. “Did you see your girlfriend?” He could imagine her in his mind, reminiscent of the older models he worked with, cool and sexy and the perfect match for Gotou, complimenting him. “I need to apologize to you both...”
“Now is not the time,” Gotou said, his voice strange. Masayoshi banged his hand back off the headboard, making the handcuff rattle.
“I can at least apologize to you, Gotou-san. It's not like I'm going anywhere.”
“I'll find the key,” Gotou promised, very conspicuously not responding to his apology. Masayoshi yanked himself forward, as far as he could, when he felt the mattress shift as Gotou moved off of it. He couldn't make himself say it, though – the don't leave me – and he heard Gotou's feet on the bare wood floor in the room, clearly searching.
Just like his nightmare – Gotou appeared again only to leave him behind – leaving with his girlfriend, leaving crippled, broken Masayoshi behind – which, he really didn't have a reason to stay here. He had no obligation to this, yes they were friends, but Masayoshi couldn't give him anything, anymore.
“Come back,” Masayoshi said softly, hitch in his voice despite himself.
He heard the floorboards creak, and could tell that Gotou walked toward him. The bed didn't shift, and he jumped when he felt Gotou catch his hand, drawing it toward him. He squirmed, and then felt Gotou's breath ghost along his knuckles. “I'm not leaving you alone again,” he promised, and Masayoshi choked a little. “Who did this to you, 'yoshi? I need to break someone's ribs.”
“Don't-” Masayoshi yanked his hand away. “His name's Sawada – he's not here? How did you get in?”
“Sawada? Your door was unlocked, I didn't go through the place and clear it, but if he's here he's hiding.”
Masayoshi took a deep breath. “He's still here,” he said.
“Let me get you out of the handcuffs,” Gotou said. “Where's your repair kit, I can get you out with a screwdriver and a hammer.”
He sounded confident and certain and to Masayoshi it felt like the first full breath of air he'd had in twenty-four hours. Yeah he'd fucked up, and they'd deal with it, and he'd apologize to Gotou's girlfriend and move on – but Gotou came back. They could still be friends, if nothing else. “In the kitchen,” he said. “Under the sink.”
“I gotta go to the kitchen then.” Gotou's presence moved away slightly. “I'll be right back though, okay?”
“Be careful,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou actually laughed.
“The kitchen's right there, Masayoshi, I can practically see it from here.”
“Yeah,” Masayoshi said. “Be careful.”
He could hear the amusement in Gotou's voice. “I will.”
The doorman of Masayoshi's apartment complex knew Gotou by now, knew the special circumstances and let him in without buzzing him in. He had smoked at least three cigarettes on the long walk over (he'd actually lost count after the first one, because he smoked them furiously, trying to calm himself down) and only stopped because he'd run out and didn't stop to buy another pack.
What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? What did she mean, when she told him he would know how to fix things, to make them right again? So many questions, too many, but he knew he was a coward for running out on Masayoshi instead of trying to sort this out, so he at least owed his friend an apology in person.
He raised his hand to knock on the door, realized that would be silly of him, he could just hear Masayoshi slamming face-first into a wall, and on a whim, tried the doorknob. His stomach twisted weirdly when he realized it was actually unlocked, the way he had left it storming off the previous night.
“Masayoshi?” Gotou called as he let himself in, and his worry only magnified when he realized how quiet and dark the apartment was.
There was no need to turn on the lights for Masayoshi, so it was dim. He walked into the main room – saw the mess from the previous night still sitting on the table in front of the couch – he would have cleaned it before sleeping, if he hadn't run off – and looked around, dread twisting in his gut.
He found Masayoshi asleep in his bed, back against the headrest, one arm up and cuffed to the headboard. He stood in the doorway and stared, dread replaced quite quickly with anger, as he moved forward to check on him. A pulse check was the first thing, as he slipped back into training-mode – but when he touched Masayoshi's face he was warm, and he stirred, turning his face into Gotou's hand before he came awake all at once, ready to fight.
Masayoshi was really good at hiding his emotions sometimes – but the terror that flitted across when he thought that Gotou was someone else made him absolutely sick. When Gotou found out who this Sawada was, he was going to do more than break a few ribs – but Masayoshi didn't need to know that.
He was at least familiar with where the toolbox was stashed, so Gotou crouched in front of the sink, and pulled the small flathead screwdriver and a hammer to use as a mallet. As he stood he turned around, and almost dropped both, because he wasn't alone any more.
“Ah,” the grey-haired teenager said, seated on a stool at the low bar. “Samurai Policeman-san, how good of you to join us finally.”
Gotou gripped the screwdriver and hammer tightly, considered how messy it would be if he struck the kid in the middle of the forehead and realized that Masayoshi probably wouldn't be too happy with him, especially since he'd smell the blood. “Sawada, I presume,” he said instead.
“In the flesh.” Sawada put his chin in both hands and rocked forward, staring at Gotou with a slightly unsettling grin.
“You're under arrest,” Gotou said, shifting his tools to one hand, realizing he didn't have any cuffs of his own, and Sawada laughed. “I'm taking you in, you're messed up, attacking a blind man-”
“Protecting,” Sawada chimed in.
“What the fuck ever.” Gotou pulled out his cell phone, prepared to phone Totsuka.
“I wouldn't do that, Samurai Policeman-san,” Sawada said in a sing-song voice. “I don't thing she would appreciate it, hm?”
Gotou's blood turned to ice in his veins.
“You haven't told Samumenco-san, have you?” Sawada scratched his nose. “Don't you think he deserves to know?”
“There's nothing to know,” Gotou said, his mouth dry. “I'm calling the police.”
“Well then,” Sawada said, and pushed himself back from counter. “I guess I'll just have to be the one to tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Masayoshi asked, one hand on the door frame of the bedroom, unlocked handcuff dangling from his bruised wrist. “What's going on, tell me what, Gotou-san...?”
