![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: Missing Pieces
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 875
Summary: "How on earth do you lose so many gloves?"
“I’m going to get you fifteen pairs of gloves for Christmas,” Gotou said, his hands tucked warmly in his pockets as he watched Masayoshi root around in his courier bag for his gloves. “Maybe twenty. How on earth do you lose so many gloves?”
“I don’t lose them,” Masayoshi said indignantly, and promptly dropped several pieces of paper and a tangled pair of earbuds into the snow. He stared down at his feet and sighed, and Gotou took one hand out of his pocket to removed the cigarette from his mouth, blowing smoke into the frigid December night.
“If you don’t lose them, where are they?”
“I don’t-” Masayoshi rooted around more, and at least managed to catch his phone before it met the same fate as the probably-important papers that Gotou was sure Ishihara had given Masayoshi to fill out. “They’ve got to be here somewhere.”
“I’ll get you some special edition superhero gloves or something, you’d keep track of those.”
Masayoshi looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t wear those,” he said. “Those I’d treasure! I’d have to keep them safe with all my special edition collector’s items!”
“You are not starting a tokusatsu museum in my closet, ‘yoshi.”
“Too late.” Masayoshi stuck his phone in his pocket and peered into his bag. “Anyway, we’ll move.”
Gotou tilted his head back and watched the vapor-trail of smoke from his cigarette vanish into the darkness above. “We’re not going to move just so you can have a place to stash your stuff.”
“It’s not stuff, it’s my collection.” Masayoshi let out a frustrated noise verging on a whine and crouched, delicately picking the now dampened paper out of the snow and fishing around for the other items dropped while searching through his bag. “It’s important!”
“Right,” Gotou said. “Your stuff.” He watched Masayoshi fold his arms over his knees and sigh, still crouched low to the ground. “It’s just gloves,” he offered.
Masayoshi was silent. Gotou could not see his face, he had his head angled down, arms folded and shoulders slumped. The knit cap he wore did not stop his bangs from puffing out around his face, and Gotou leaned forward slightly, hands back in the pockets of his jacket. “Oi, you all right, ‘yoshi?”
He lifted his head suddenly, which startled Gotou. “Gremlins,” Masayoshi said emphatically.
Well that was not the response that Gotou was looking for, or expecting, for that matter. “Gremlins…?” he repeated, confused.
Masayoshi surged to his feet, both hands curled into fists in front of him. “Gremlins!” he repeated, staring at Gotou. “They’re stealing my gloves, Gotou-san, I have to do something about it!”
Sometimes it was still really hard to judge when Masayoshi was taking the piss or not. Gotou had about 80/20 odds on Masayoshi actually being serious, based on his gut. “Okay, for one,” Gotou said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and rubbing his forehead carefully with the same hand. “What the hell would gremlins want with your gloves, and for two - no, it’s not gremlins.” Now that Masayoshi had established a complete lack of gloves there was no point to standing around in the cold anyway.
“How are you so certain it’s not gremlins?” Masayoshi said.
“Odds are better that Mari is fucking with you than it actually being gremlins,” Gotou said. He offered Masayoshi his hand - and Masayoshi took it without hesitation. It was hard to not let the blush overtake his face, but in this weather he could at least explain it away by the cold itself. It was sowing again, lightly dusting everything with a fresh coat of white.
Masayoshi huffed out an annoyed sound. “But what would Mari do with all my gloves? She’s not that mean.”
“She is that mean, and you know it. I have no idea what she’d do with the gloves, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know either way. Why don’t you text Mizuki, she’ll know if Mari’s up to something.”
“Hm.” Masayoshi tugged on Gotou’s hand. “I should thank her, then.”
Gotou gave Masayoshi a puzzled look. “Thank her?”
“Well.” Masayoshi glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. “If I had my gloves, I bet you wouldn’t be holding my hand right now.”
Gotou certainly blushed dark enough to be visible, he looked away. “Twenty pairs of gloves,” he muttered, and Masayoshi tugged his scarf up over his nose to hide his grin.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 875
Summary: "How on earth do you lose so many gloves?"
“I’m going to get you fifteen pairs of gloves for Christmas,” Gotou said, his hands tucked warmly in his pockets as he watched Masayoshi root around in his courier bag for his gloves. “Maybe twenty. How on earth do you lose so many gloves?”
“I don’t lose them,” Masayoshi said indignantly, and promptly dropped several pieces of paper and a tangled pair of earbuds into the snow. He stared down at his feet and sighed, and Gotou took one hand out of his pocket to removed the cigarette from his mouth, blowing smoke into the frigid December night.
“If you don’t lose them, where are they?”
“I don’t-” Masayoshi rooted around more, and at least managed to catch his phone before it met the same fate as the probably-important papers that Gotou was sure Ishihara had given Masayoshi to fill out. “They’ve got to be here somewhere.”
“I’ll get you some special edition superhero gloves or something, you’d keep track of those.”
Masayoshi looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t wear those,” he said. “Those I’d treasure! I’d have to keep them safe with all my special edition collector’s items!”
“You are not starting a tokusatsu museum in my closet, ‘yoshi.”
“Too late.” Masayoshi stuck his phone in his pocket and peered into his bag. “Anyway, we’ll move.”
Gotou tilted his head back and watched the vapor-trail of smoke from his cigarette vanish into the darkness above. “We’re not going to move just so you can have a place to stash your stuff.”
“It’s not stuff, it’s my collection.” Masayoshi let out a frustrated noise verging on a whine and crouched, delicately picking the now dampened paper out of the snow and fishing around for the other items dropped while searching through his bag. “It’s important!”
“Right,” Gotou said. “Your stuff.” He watched Masayoshi fold his arms over his knees and sigh, still crouched low to the ground. “It’s just gloves,” he offered.
Masayoshi was silent. Gotou could not see his face, he had his head angled down, arms folded and shoulders slumped. The knit cap he wore did not stop his bangs from puffing out around his face, and Gotou leaned forward slightly, hands back in the pockets of his jacket. “Oi, you all right, ‘yoshi?”
He lifted his head suddenly, which startled Gotou. “Gremlins,” Masayoshi said emphatically.
Well that was not the response that Gotou was looking for, or expecting, for that matter. “Gremlins…?” he repeated, confused.
Masayoshi surged to his feet, both hands curled into fists in front of him. “Gremlins!” he repeated, staring at Gotou. “They’re stealing my gloves, Gotou-san, I have to do something about it!”
Sometimes it was still really hard to judge when Masayoshi was taking the piss or not. Gotou had about 80/20 odds on Masayoshi actually being serious, based on his gut. “Okay, for one,” Gotou said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and rubbing his forehead carefully with the same hand. “What the hell would gremlins want with your gloves, and for two - no, it’s not gremlins.” Now that Masayoshi had established a complete lack of gloves there was no point to standing around in the cold anyway.
“How are you so certain it’s not gremlins?” Masayoshi said.
“Odds are better that Mari is fucking with you than it actually being gremlins,” Gotou said. He offered Masayoshi his hand - and Masayoshi took it without hesitation. It was hard to not let the blush overtake his face, but in this weather he could at least explain it away by the cold itself. It was sowing again, lightly dusting everything with a fresh coat of white.
Masayoshi huffed out an annoyed sound. “But what would Mari do with all my gloves? She’s not that mean.”
“She is that mean, and you know it. I have no idea what she’d do with the gloves, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to know either way. Why don’t you text Mizuki, she’ll know if Mari’s up to something.”
“Hm.” Masayoshi tugged on Gotou’s hand. “I should thank her, then.”
Gotou gave Masayoshi a puzzled look. “Thank her?”
“Well.” Masayoshi glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow. “If I had my gloves, I bet you wouldn’t be holding my hand right now.”
Gotou certainly blushed dark enough to be visible, he looked away. “Twenty pairs of gloves,” he muttered, and Masayoshi tugged his scarf up over his nose to hide his grin.
