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scriveynerTitle: I Don't Believe in the Sun [17]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 1789
Summary: Six months later...
“You got carrots,” Masayoshi said, sitting on the bar stool, poking through the plastic bag that Gotou had deposited on the counter as he passed. “Are we having curry tonight?”
“When don’t we?” Gotou asked, mostly rhetorically, from the bathroom. He was soaked through, the storm had caught him unawares while on his way home, and he’d dripped a steady puddle from the door into the bathroom. “I’m beginning to forget the taste of real food.”
“Curry is real food!” Masayoshi said indignantly, sitting upright. Gotou stood in the bathroom door, stripped to his waist and drying his head with a towel, a half-amused smile in place as Masayoshi made a determined face in the direction of the kitchen. “That’s slander, Gotou-san!”
“I’m over here,” Gotou said idly, and Masayoshi swiveled on the stool.
“I know,” he said, miffed.
Gotou retreated to the bedroom in search of dryer clothes, and when he’d emerged Masayoshi had emptied the bag, holding the box of curry mix up to his face and squinting studiously at it. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” Gotou asked, taking the box from Masayoshi. Masayoshi didn’t want to relinquish it without a fight, but Gotou had surprised him. He rubbed an eye with one hand.
“Mari was making fun of me,” he said.
“Masayoshi, Mari made fun of you when you were completely blind, not just three-quarters of the way,” Gotou said, collecting the vegetables and moving them to the counter where he could get to them easier. “And since when has people making fun of you ever stopped you from doing anything?” He glanced up at Masayoshi, who had his chin in his hand and his eyes closed, face tilted away.
His glasses were sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and Masayoshi opened his eyes in surprise when Gotou settled them on his face. “Gotou-san,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou hesitated for a moment, then smiled despite himself.
“You shouldn’t strain your eyes,” he chided, and Masayoshi blinked up at him, biting his bottom lip delicately. Gotou gave in finally, and leaned a bit forward, tilting Masayoshi’s head up to kiss him gently. “Seriously,” he said, and Masayoshi nipped at his lip playfully. “You do want dinner tonight, right?”
“You bought spicy curry,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou straightened, kissed Masayoshi’s forehead, and excused himself back into the kitchen proper. “I did, but that’s not the one I’m making,” he said, and Masayoshi squinted at him through the thick lenses of his glasses, then picked up the box again and continued to squint.
“Ah!” Masayoshi said. “This is a collector’s edition! Brass Ensemble! Ultra - where did you find this!?”
“In the shopping aisle, with the rest of the curry,” Gotou said, running the water in the sink to wash the vegetables. He didn’t have to turn around to feel Masayoshi’s joy and excitement through his skin - and that in turn made him feel happier and lighter. When he did glance back, Masayoshi was beaming in his direction, and Gotou smiled again, content.
#
Masayoshi didn’t require a stick anymore, even if he did still trip and bump into things occasionally. The world was a brightly colored blur that lacked sharpness - the glasses helped with that quite a bit, but it was still hard to define things, and sometimes if the sunlight was too bright his eyes would burn like he was in the fire again. When that happened and he got overwhelmed he’d retreat to the cool darkness of the bedroom with the blinds pulled, and wait for Gotou to join him, to make sure he hadn’t injured his slowly-healing eyes.
But.
He could see.
Masayoshi kept his chin in his hand and watched, delighted, as Gotou prepared dinner. He’d gotten in the habit of it - Masayoshi could probably cook now, if he wanted, but Gotou would shoo him out of the kitchen so he’d sit at the bar and watch Gotou. Over the months, slowly, his form had resolved from blurry darkness to familiarity - and while he still couldn’t always make out expressions even with the glasses, he knew when Gotou was smiling at him, head tilted back as he looked over his shoulder.
He didn’t remember Gotou smiling so much, before.
Masayoshi didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t been wearing the glasses, trying to train his eyes to be stronger without because Gotou would scold him, but he hated that while lying in bed Gotou was a much blurrier blob. He wanted to be able to see all of him, and grateful as he was to see anything at all, he was desperate to get it all back, to be able to open his eyes lazily and see Gotou’s sleeping expression without having to shift all the way down the bed and get in close, which usually woke him.
“Dinner,” Gotou said cheerfully, putting the plate down at Masayoshi’s elbow. They didn’t eat in front of the television any more, since Masayoshi wasn’t allowed to watch as much as he used to. (”It’s fine, Gotou-san, it doesn’t hurt my eyes-” “DOCTOR’S ORDERS. What sort of hero doesn’t listen to their doctor?”)
Masayoshi smiled as Gotou sat down at the counter next to him, and then he picked up his spoon thoughtfully. “Gotou-san,” he said, careful about his words. “What are we?”
“Mm?” Gotou had already taken a bite. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re in love, right?”
Gotou was silent for long enough that Masayoshi looked over at him - he’d fallen out of the habit of looking, of checking, and now he had to remember to do so. Gotou was looking at him quietly, and once he saw that he had Masayoshi’s eye, he inclined his head. “Why are you questioning it?” he asked, and Masayoshi frowned.
“Don’t answer a question with a question,” he said, crossly.
“Yes,” Gotou said with no hesitation now, although he looked like he might be blushing slightly. “We are.” He glanced down at his plate and then back to Masayoshi. “So, why question it?”
“So,” Masayoshi didn’t back down or look away. “You’re my boyfriend.”
“I guess, but I wouldn’t be advertising it,” Gotou resumed eating, gestured to Masayoshi’s plate. “Food’s getting cold, ‘yoshi.”
“What about,” Masayoshi hadn’t looked away, but he knew he was blushing now too. “Husband?”
Gotou choked.
“What,” he said, when he could finally get oxygen through his windpipe, “the hell-”
Masayoshi blinked at him owlishly. “That’s the next step, isn’t it?”
“Are you stupid?” Gotou wiped his hand over the back of his mouth. “We can’t- you know two guys can’t get married, Masayoshi.”
“I wasn’t asking if we could,” Masayoshi said indignantly. “I was asking if you would want to.”
“That is the most backward-ass proposal I have ever heard,” Gotou said indignantly. “You’re not supposed to propose like that, it’s supposed to be something romantic-”
“Ah! I forgot Gotou-san likes romantic things!”
“That’s not what I’m, Masayoshi where are you going-?”
Masayoshi disappeared into the bedroom. When he returned, Gotou was sitting with he elbows on the counter and his face in his hands, ears bright red. “That better not be what I think it is,” Gotou said without lifting his face from his hands.
Masayoshi stood there quietly until Gotou lifted his head from his hands and looked over at him, and at the small box he held in his hands. “Oh my god.”
“Why are you so embarrassed, it’s just us, Gotou-san.”
“Idiot, that’s exactly why I’m - I’m not embarrassed, you’re just, so-” Gotou sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, shoulders slumped.
Masayoshi bit his bottom lip, unsure how to proceed. “Would you be-”
“I swear to god if the words ‘crime fighting partner’ come out of your mouth at any point I am going to make you eat whatever is in that box.”
Masayoshi snapped his mouth shut. “That’s just rude.”
There was silence for a moment as they glowered at each other, and then Gotou sighed and held out his hand for the box, which after a moment’s confusion Masayoshi handed him. Gotou set the box on the counter, caught Masayoshi by the wrist and pulled him forward. He went, surprised - he hadn’t seen Gotou’s other hand move and was caught off-guard - and Gotou caught him in his arms. “Idiot,” Gotou said, Masayoshi off-balance and tilted in awkwardly. “But,” he said. “My idiot.”
As he pulled back, one hand braced on the counter, Masayoshi could see the way the light glittered in Gotou’s eyes, watery and bright. “Is that a yes?” he asked innocently, and Gotou shoved him.
“Eat your goddamned curry,” he said.
Masayoshi beamed at him. “I love you very much, Gotou-san,” he said. “I want to be with you forever!”
There was a long moment of silence as Gotou stared at his plate - his face had gone completely red by now, so much that Masayoshi could tell easily. Then he smiled, slightly - lifted his head and looked Masayoshi in the eye. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 1789
Summary: Six months later...
“You got carrots,” Masayoshi said, sitting on the bar stool, poking through the plastic bag that Gotou had deposited on the counter as he passed. “Are we having curry tonight?”
“When don’t we?” Gotou asked, mostly rhetorically, from the bathroom. He was soaked through, the storm had caught him unawares while on his way home, and he’d dripped a steady puddle from the door into the bathroom. “I’m beginning to forget the taste of real food.”
“Curry is real food!” Masayoshi said indignantly, sitting upright. Gotou stood in the bathroom door, stripped to his waist and drying his head with a towel, a half-amused smile in place as Masayoshi made a determined face in the direction of the kitchen. “That’s slander, Gotou-san!”
“I’m over here,” Gotou said idly, and Masayoshi swiveled on the stool.
“I know,” he said, miffed.
Gotou retreated to the bedroom in search of dryer clothes, and when he’d emerged Masayoshi had emptied the bag, holding the box of curry mix up to his face and squinting studiously at it. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” Gotou asked, taking the box from Masayoshi. Masayoshi didn’t want to relinquish it without a fight, but Gotou had surprised him. He rubbed an eye with one hand.
“Mari was making fun of me,” he said.
“Masayoshi, Mari made fun of you when you were completely blind, not just three-quarters of the way,” Gotou said, collecting the vegetables and moving them to the counter where he could get to them easier. “And since when has people making fun of you ever stopped you from doing anything?” He glanced up at Masayoshi, who had his chin in his hand and his eyes closed, face tilted away.
His glasses were sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and Masayoshi opened his eyes in surprise when Gotou settled them on his face. “Gotou-san,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou hesitated for a moment, then smiled despite himself.
“You shouldn’t strain your eyes,” he chided, and Masayoshi blinked up at him, biting his bottom lip delicately. Gotou gave in finally, and leaned a bit forward, tilting Masayoshi’s head up to kiss him gently. “Seriously,” he said, and Masayoshi nipped at his lip playfully. “You do want dinner tonight, right?”
“You bought spicy curry,” Masayoshi said, and Gotou straightened, kissed Masayoshi’s forehead, and excused himself back into the kitchen proper. “I did, but that’s not the one I’m making,” he said, and Masayoshi squinted at him through the thick lenses of his glasses, then picked up the box again and continued to squint.
“Ah!” Masayoshi said. “This is a collector’s edition! Brass Ensemble! Ultra - where did you find this!?”
“In the shopping aisle, with the rest of the curry,” Gotou said, running the water in the sink to wash the vegetables. He didn’t have to turn around to feel Masayoshi’s joy and excitement through his skin - and that in turn made him feel happier and lighter. When he did glance back, Masayoshi was beaming in his direction, and Gotou smiled again, content.
Masayoshi didn’t require a stick anymore, even if he did still trip and bump into things occasionally. The world was a brightly colored blur that lacked sharpness - the glasses helped with that quite a bit, but it was still hard to define things, and sometimes if the sunlight was too bright his eyes would burn like he was in the fire again. When that happened and he got overwhelmed he’d retreat to the cool darkness of the bedroom with the blinds pulled, and wait for Gotou to join him, to make sure he hadn’t injured his slowly-healing eyes.
But.
He could see.
Masayoshi kept his chin in his hand and watched, delighted, as Gotou prepared dinner. He’d gotten in the habit of it - Masayoshi could probably cook now, if he wanted, but Gotou would shoo him out of the kitchen so he’d sit at the bar and watch Gotou. Over the months, slowly, his form had resolved from blurry darkness to familiarity - and while he still couldn’t always make out expressions even with the glasses, he knew when Gotou was smiling at him, head tilted back as he looked over his shoulder.
He didn’t remember Gotou smiling so much, before.
Masayoshi didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t been wearing the glasses, trying to train his eyes to be stronger without because Gotou would scold him, but he hated that while lying in bed Gotou was a much blurrier blob. He wanted to be able to see all of him, and grateful as he was to see anything at all, he was desperate to get it all back, to be able to open his eyes lazily and see Gotou’s sleeping expression without having to shift all the way down the bed and get in close, which usually woke him.
“Dinner,” Gotou said cheerfully, putting the plate down at Masayoshi’s elbow. They didn’t eat in front of the television any more, since Masayoshi wasn’t allowed to watch as much as he used to. (”It’s fine, Gotou-san, it doesn’t hurt my eyes-” “DOCTOR’S ORDERS. What sort of hero doesn’t listen to their doctor?”)
Masayoshi smiled as Gotou sat down at the counter next to him, and then he picked up his spoon thoughtfully. “Gotou-san,” he said, careful about his words. “What are we?”
“Mm?” Gotou had already taken a bite. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’re in love, right?”
Gotou was silent for long enough that Masayoshi looked over at him - he’d fallen out of the habit of looking, of checking, and now he had to remember to do so. Gotou was looking at him quietly, and once he saw that he had Masayoshi’s eye, he inclined his head. “Why are you questioning it?” he asked, and Masayoshi frowned.
“Don’t answer a question with a question,” he said, crossly.
“Yes,” Gotou said with no hesitation now, although he looked like he might be blushing slightly. “We are.” He glanced down at his plate and then back to Masayoshi. “So, why question it?”
“So,” Masayoshi didn’t back down or look away. “You’re my boyfriend.”
“I guess, but I wouldn’t be advertising it,” Gotou resumed eating, gestured to Masayoshi’s plate. “Food’s getting cold, ‘yoshi.”
“What about,” Masayoshi hadn’t looked away, but he knew he was blushing now too. “Husband?”
Gotou choked.
“What,” he said, when he could finally get oxygen through his windpipe, “the hell-”
Masayoshi blinked at him owlishly. “That’s the next step, isn’t it?”
“Are you stupid?” Gotou wiped his hand over the back of his mouth. “We can’t- you know two guys can’t get married, Masayoshi.”
“I wasn’t asking if we could,” Masayoshi said indignantly. “I was asking if you would want to.”
“That is the most backward-ass proposal I have ever heard,” Gotou said indignantly. “You’re not supposed to propose like that, it’s supposed to be something romantic-”
“Ah! I forgot Gotou-san likes romantic things!”
“That’s not what I’m, Masayoshi where are you going-?”
Masayoshi disappeared into the bedroom. When he returned, Gotou was sitting with he elbows on the counter and his face in his hands, ears bright red. “That better not be what I think it is,” Gotou said without lifting his face from his hands.
Masayoshi stood there quietly until Gotou lifted his head from his hands and looked over at him, and at the small box he held in his hands. “Oh my god.”
“Why are you so embarrassed, it’s just us, Gotou-san.”
“Idiot, that’s exactly why I’m - I’m not embarrassed, you’re just, so-” Gotou sighed and ran a hand back through his hair, shoulders slumped.
Masayoshi bit his bottom lip, unsure how to proceed. “Would you be-”
“I swear to god if the words ‘crime fighting partner’ come out of your mouth at any point I am going to make you eat whatever is in that box.”
Masayoshi snapped his mouth shut. “That’s just rude.”
There was silence for a moment as they glowered at each other, and then Gotou sighed and held out his hand for the box, which after a moment’s confusion Masayoshi handed him. Gotou set the box on the counter, caught Masayoshi by the wrist and pulled him forward. He went, surprised - he hadn’t seen Gotou’s other hand move and was caught off-guard - and Gotou caught him in his arms. “Idiot,” Gotou said, Masayoshi off-balance and tilted in awkwardly. “But,” he said. “My idiot.”
As he pulled back, one hand braced on the counter, Masayoshi could see the way the light glittered in Gotou’s eyes, watery and bright. “Is that a yes?” he asked innocently, and Gotou shoved him.
“Eat your goddamned curry,” he said.
Masayoshi beamed at him. “I love you very much, Gotou-san,” he said. “I want to be with you forever!”
There was a long moment of silence as Gotou stared at his plate - his face had gone completely red by now, so much that Masayoshi could tell easily. Then he smiled, slightly - lifted his head and looked Masayoshi in the eye. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”
