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scriveynerTitle: samflam_69min: Night
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 811
Summary:
Masayoshi sat on the edge of his bed and sighed as he listened to Gotou shuffle around the room. “You don’t really need to do that, Gotou-san,” he said, tracking Gotou’s movement and following him mentally. It was funny, he always imagined Gotou wearing his usual blue hoodie and jeans with no variation – he could be parading around naked for all Masayoshi knew.
Oh. Maybe he shouldn’t have thought of that.
“It’s no trouble,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi heard the closet door close. He thought a little wistfully of the handful of costumes hung within, a legacy he couldn’t touch any longer, and sighed. He heard Gotou shuffle a little, and he looked away, angled his head down and tried to keep his face neutral. He was good at that, at least – he thought he was.
“You okay?” Gotou asked, closer than Masayoshi had anticipated. He jumped a little and he heard Gotou’s exhaled breath, amusement that he wouldn’t let cross to his face – he’d still wear an exasperated expression, as if Masayoshi could see him. “You’re a little red-faced. You’re not getting sick?”
“Red-faced-?” Masayoshi touched his hand to his face and thought again – Gotou, naked – and felt his cheeks grow even warmer. “I-I’m fine, Gotou-san. I can put myself to bed.”
Gotou made a noise, rough and low – it was a noise of agreement, assessment – and then he could no longer hear Gotou’s breathing and the floor creaked as he moved away. Masayoshi’s hand clenched in the fitted sheet, he didn’t like Gotou going away. He wasn’t going far, going to the next room, to sleep on the couch – shouting distance and yet it was an unfathomable gulf. “How’s your girlfriend, Gotou-san?” Masayoshi asked lightly, trying to find some excuse to keep Gotou in the room with him.
He heard Gotou hesitate. Masayoshi was surprised that he could hear the intake of breath, like Gotou was bracing himself for something – and there was something fake in his tone as he replied in kind. “She’s a little put-out I’ve been here for so long, but she’s worried about you too.”
“Oh.” Masayoshi fiddled with his blankets. He felt suddenly put out himself, like someone had sucked all the air out of his lungs and replaced it with something heavy, that weighted him down in a way he didn’t understand. “You shouldn’t worry, I’m doing fine.”
“Right,” Gotou said, and there was still that same forced fakeness in his tone. “If you need anything, holler okay? I’m gonna smoke first, before I sleep.”
“Yeah,” Masayoshi said. “Goodnight, Gotou-san.”
“’Night, ‘yoshi.”
Gotou didn’t close the door to his bedroom – he heard him shuffle into the living room, and then the balcony door slid open, and clicked shut. Masayoshi tilted his head back – he wondered for a moment if the ceiling light was on. It didn’t matter much to him of course, but it would be silly for Gotou to have forgotten to turn it off. The thought was idle and forced, because underneath it was the terrifying realization that Gotou still had his girlfriend. Eventually he would leave, and go back to her and Masayoshi would be alone in the darkness.
(But why would he kiss you, if he had her?)
Masayoshi flopped over on his bed, grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his head so that when Gotou checked in on him – which he would, he would hear Gotou stick his head in every so often, like a mother hen – that he wouldn’t see the expression that Masayoshi couldn’t keep buried. Gotou had someone who loved him already, and Masayoshi was seducing him away.
He couldn’t do it, it wasn’t right.
#
Outside, on the balcony, Gotou stood leaning against the railing. The sky was overcast, the reflected light pollution turning the clouds underbelly a sickly shade of yellow. Gotou wasn’t watching the sky, however – he had his head in his hand, cigarette burning perilously close to his ear – and in the other hand, he had his cell phone flipped open. Gotou stared quietly at the message on his cell phone, the light from its screen washed across his hand and face, and thought to himself quietly, oh.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Blind AU
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: T
Length: 811
Summary:
Masayoshi sat on the edge of his bed and sighed as he listened to Gotou shuffle around the room. “You don’t really need to do that, Gotou-san,” he said, tracking Gotou’s movement and following him mentally. It was funny, he always imagined Gotou wearing his usual blue hoodie and jeans with no variation – he could be parading around naked for all Masayoshi knew.
Oh. Maybe he shouldn’t have thought of that.
“It’s no trouble,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi heard the closet door close. He thought a little wistfully of the handful of costumes hung within, a legacy he couldn’t touch any longer, and sighed. He heard Gotou shuffle a little, and he looked away, angled his head down and tried to keep his face neutral. He was good at that, at least – he thought he was.
“You okay?” Gotou asked, closer than Masayoshi had anticipated. He jumped a little and he heard Gotou’s exhaled breath, amusement that he wouldn’t let cross to his face – he’d still wear an exasperated expression, as if Masayoshi could see him. “You’re a little red-faced. You’re not getting sick?”
“Red-faced-?” Masayoshi touched his hand to his face and thought again – Gotou, naked – and felt his cheeks grow even warmer. “I-I’m fine, Gotou-san. I can put myself to bed.”
Gotou made a noise, rough and low – it was a noise of agreement, assessment – and then he could no longer hear Gotou’s breathing and the floor creaked as he moved away. Masayoshi’s hand clenched in the fitted sheet, he didn’t like Gotou going away. He wasn’t going far, going to the next room, to sleep on the couch – shouting distance and yet it was an unfathomable gulf. “How’s your girlfriend, Gotou-san?” Masayoshi asked lightly, trying to find some excuse to keep Gotou in the room with him.
He heard Gotou hesitate. Masayoshi was surprised that he could hear the intake of breath, like Gotou was bracing himself for something – and there was something fake in his tone as he replied in kind. “She’s a little put-out I’ve been here for so long, but she’s worried about you too.”
“Oh.” Masayoshi fiddled with his blankets. He felt suddenly put out himself, like someone had sucked all the air out of his lungs and replaced it with something heavy, that weighted him down in a way he didn’t understand. “You shouldn’t worry, I’m doing fine.”
“Right,” Gotou said, and there was still that same forced fakeness in his tone. “If you need anything, holler okay? I’m gonna smoke first, before I sleep.”
“Yeah,” Masayoshi said. “Goodnight, Gotou-san.”
“’Night, ‘yoshi.”
Gotou didn’t close the door to his bedroom – he heard him shuffle into the living room, and then the balcony door slid open, and clicked shut. Masayoshi tilted his head back – he wondered for a moment if the ceiling light was on. It didn’t matter much to him of course, but it would be silly for Gotou to have forgotten to turn it off. The thought was idle and forced, because underneath it was the terrifying realization that Gotou still had his girlfriend. Eventually he would leave, and go back to her and Masayoshi would be alone in the darkness.
(But why would he kiss you, if he had her?)
Masayoshi flopped over on his bed, grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his head so that when Gotou checked in on him – which he would, he would hear Gotou stick his head in every so often, like a mother hen – that he wouldn’t see the expression that Masayoshi couldn’t keep buried. Gotou had someone who loved him already, and Masayoshi was seducing him away.
He couldn’t do it, it wasn’t right.
Outside, on the balcony, Gotou stood leaning against the railing. The sky was overcast, the reflected light pollution turning the clouds underbelly a sickly shade of yellow. Gotou wasn’t watching the sky, however – he had his head in his hand, cigarette burning perilously close to his ear – and in the other hand, he had his cell phone flipped open. Gotou stared quietly at the message on his cell phone, the light from its screen washed across his hand and face, and thought to himself quietly, oh.
