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scriveynerTitle: Keep Falling
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 364
Summary: "No I'm not."
Masayoshi knew that Gotou thinks he doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t want Gotou to be right about that, but the research is embarrassing, and it’s not like he can ask Ishihara about this. It’s bad enough when she surprises him while he’s staring intently at his phone, scrolling through websites the media would have a field day to know that he was frequenting.
It wasn’t fair that Gotou was more experienced, that he seemed to instinctively know how to make Masayoshi come apart at the seams, using tongue and fingers and … other things. Not that Masayoshi minded what Gotou did to him, on the contrary … but he wanted to be able to return the favor. And that required the most humiliating research on the face of the planet, and this was coming from someone who unironically googled superhero underwear on a fairly regular basis.
Because he was absolutely shit at keeping secrets, he slumped across Gotou’s table, buried his burning face in his arms and pretty much admitted to Gotou’s face how much he hated being inexperienced, and that he knew Gotou thought he had no idea what he was doing, and it sucked.
There was a long, silent pause - and when Masayoshi finally dared to raise his head, he realized that Gotou was staring at him. “What makes you think,” Gotou said slowly, bewildered, “that I have any idea what I’m doing?”
“You’re so GOOD at SEX,” Masayoshi said emphatically, and Gotou’s face turned pink.
“What?” Gotou said, stammered - “W-well, so are you, so I don’t know what you’re so worried about-”
Masayoshi blinked at him. “No I’m not.”
“Yes,” Gotou said, his voice steady now, low and rumbly like it got in the heat of the moment. “You are.”
“Oh, Masayoshi responded, because that is all he can think of to say.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: M
Length: 364
Summary: "No I'm not."
Masayoshi knew that Gotou thinks he doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t want Gotou to be right about that, but the research is embarrassing, and it’s not like he can ask Ishihara about this. It’s bad enough when she surprises him while he’s staring intently at his phone, scrolling through websites the media would have a field day to know that he was frequenting.
It wasn’t fair that Gotou was more experienced, that he seemed to instinctively know how to make Masayoshi come apart at the seams, using tongue and fingers and … other things. Not that Masayoshi minded what Gotou did to him, on the contrary … but he wanted to be able to return the favor. And that required the most humiliating research on the face of the planet, and this was coming from someone who unironically googled superhero underwear on a fairly regular basis.
Because he was absolutely shit at keeping secrets, he slumped across Gotou’s table, buried his burning face in his arms and pretty much admitted to Gotou’s face how much he hated being inexperienced, and that he knew Gotou thought he had no idea what he was doing, and it sucked.
There was a long, silent pause - and when Masayoshi finally dared to raise his head, he realized that Gotou was staring at him. “What makes you think,” Gotou said slowly, bewildered, “that I have any idea what I’m doing?”
“You’re so GOOD at SEX,” Masayoshi said emphatically, and Gotou’s face turned pink.
“What?” Gotou said, stammered - “W-well, so are you, so I don’t know what you’re so worried about-”
Masayoshi blinked at him. “No I’m not.”
“Yes,” Gotou said, his voice steady now, low and rumbly like it got in the heat of the moment. “You are.”
“Oh, Masayoshi responded, because that is all he can think of to say.
