scriveyner: (Nightbreed/Werewolf AU)
[personal profile] scriveyner
Title: then they begin [3]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1517
Summary: “Why didn't you tell me you were on leave?” Masayoshi said accusingly when Gotou opened his front door. “Totsuka-san gave me such a look when I asked where you were!”



“Why didn't you tell me you were on leave?” Masayoshi said accusingly when Gotou opened his front door. “Totsuka-san gave me such a look when I asked where you were!”

“Ah,” Gotou said guiltily. “I thought you knew.” He was on forced leave, in fact, but he didn't like thinking about what was going on, or the mandated evaluation he had to complete before they'd let him back to work. Masayoshi crossed his arms and glared, and Gotou sighed, stepping aside.

He still didn't know what Masayoshi was trying to accomplish with these gestures. So he knew now, so what? It's not like it changed anything – he was bound to the moon. “I brought dinner,” Masayoshi said, holding up the plastic bag he held in one hand, and Gotou sighed.

“Not curry?”

Masayoshi's brow furrowed again, thunderclouds gathered. “Something wrong with curry?”

There wasn't particularly, but he was never hungry these night – not until after the shift, when his hunger changed to a need for something else. “Whatever you want, 'yoshi,” he said absently, and padded toward the bed.

Masayoshi stood just inside the genkan, shoes still on his feet. “You don't really want me here, do you.” It wasn't a question – and the answer should have been plainly obvious as well. Gotou sighed, still standing on his feet, feeling the electricity crawling under his skin as the minutes fell away.

“It's not safe,” he said, and turned around.

“I don't care,” Masayoshi said stubbornly, heeling his shoes off and padding across the hallway in his socks. He dropped the convenience store bag on the counter but didn't shrug off his knapsack, didn't pull off his jacket, he just crossed the room until he stood at the edge of the table, close but not too close, from Gotou. “I don't care,” he repeated, and Gotou looked away.

“I'll hurt you,” Gotou said quietly. “I've hurt people, Masayoshi, I don't want to hurt you too.”

“You've,” Masayoshi said softly, and Gotou's head snapped up.

“I've not killed anyone,” he said hastily, sensing the new fear in Masayoshi's voice. His eyes snapped to Masayoshi's, and even now a few hours before the moon would rise into a twilight sky his eyes had gone strange, not-quite-human – always the first thing to change and the last to revert. He saw Masayoshi flinch, ever so slightly, and swallowed hard. “I've not,” he added, because Masayoshi had no cause to believe him.

“Then you don't need to worry about me,” Masayoshi said stubbornly.

Gotou sighed heavily, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He rubbed a hand back through his hair, and glanced up at the clock. “You should make dinner, if you want to eat,” he said firmly, and Masayoshi stared at him, one hand still tight on the strap of his bag.

“Okay,” Masayoshi said, and turned back to the kitchen.

#


They sat at his table, the television on – it could be any other night, Masayoshi tucking into a plate of curry while a rerun of some tokusatsu programming was on – but it wasn't. He could feel Masayoshi's eyes, staring at him when he thought Gotou wouldn't catch him, although there wasn't so much worry as it was straight curiosity. He'd never asked.

Gotou sighed, his back to the bed. “Three questions,” he said finally, although Masayoshi hadn't spoken.

Masayoshi stared at him. “Three?” he said.

“I'll answer three questions,” Gotou said. “If it'll get you to stop looking at me like that.”

Masayoshi looked over at Gotou's untouched plate of curry, and then back to his face. “You really haven't killed anyone?” he asked cautiously.

“No one human,” Gotou said, staring at the television. “That I know about.”

“Good,” Masayoshi said, sounding relieved.

“You didn't believe me the first time?” Gotou asked, and Masayoshi poked his remaining food with his spoon.

“It's not that I didn't believe you, Gotou-san,” he said, and hesitated.

“It's changed the way you feel about me,” Gotou said, and Masayoshi started, and looked up at him. He snorted and looked away again. “This is why you're an idiot, you know.”

“It hasn't changed anything,” Masayoshi said obstinately. “I love you the same, Gotou-san – there's just more about you I need to learn, now!”

“What would you have done if I said that yes, I had killed someone?” Gotou challenged him, sitting forward, eyes narrowed. Masayoshi flinched again, and Gotou let out a low, exasperated sigh. “You're afraid of me.”

“I am not,” Masayoshi said indignantly, immediately.

“Then what would you have done?”

“You're being mean!” Masayoshi said. “You're being aggressive because you're afraid that I'll hate you but you want me to hate you anyway!” He slammed his spoon down on the plate and leaned forward, hands on the table. “It's just like that time when-”

“Don't say this is like a tokusatsu plot, Masayoshi!” Gotou yelled suddenly, and this time, Masayoshi did not flinch.

“I don't hate you,” Masayoshi said, filling the sudden silence. “I can't hate you, Gotou-san.” He sat back on his knees and lowered his head, staring at his plate. “I don't know what I'd do if you had killed someone, but it wouldn't change my feelings for you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Gotou said finally.

“Because I love you,” Masayoshi said it so casually, and the words slid like a heated blade between his ribs.

They hadn't talked about that, either, about how Masayoshi was just confused, he had to be confused about it because if he wasn't, how was Gotou meant to deal with it?

“Masayoshi,” Gotou said, about to open that can of worms when Masayoshi held up two fingers.

“I get two more questions, you said,” he said insistently. Gotou sighed, and nodded his head. “What have you killed then, if not people?”

Gotou blinked, a little surprised. He had expected Masayoshi to go for a bigger question than that. “Small animals, mostly,” he said. “I try not to get pets but I'm not always in my right mind-” he scowled at Masayoshi's expression. “You asked, 'yoshi-”

“Do you eat them?” Masayoshi's eyes were wide.

“Usually.” Gotou rubbed a hand over his mouth. “When I'm – when I'm like that I get so hungry, and it's not for anything you can buy in a conbini, believe me I've tried. But I'd never hurt a person. No one misses a few stray cats here and there.” He exhaled. “I got a deer once, before I moved here.”

“Gotou-san, that requires a hunting license.”

Gotou stared at Masayoshi. He leaned forward and said, very calmly, “you don't require a wolf to register for a hunting license, Masayoshi.”

Masayoshi stared right back at him, and parroted Gotou's words from weeks ago. “There haven't been wolves in Japan for a hundred years, Gotou-san.”

He narrowed his eyes at Masayoshi. “You're making fun of me.”

“I still get one more question.”

“Nope.” Gotou held up his fingers. “You asked if I ate them too, that's three.”

“What!” Masayoshi crossed his arms. “That's not fair.”

The smile quirked across his face before he could stop it. “Maybe next month I'll let you ask more,” he said, as he felt pinpricks begin, under his skin – he glanced up at the clock once more, then sat forward, reaching over his back to pull his shirt off. “Don't want to ruin my clothes,” he grunted, and surged to his feet, staggering just a little as he headed for the bathroom, to dump them in the hamper before it was too late.

Masayoshi got to his feet and walked both plates of curry into the kitchen area, rinsing the plates in the sink. He waited until he heard impatient clawing at the bathroom door and then he opened it, letting the sleek black animal loose. “You forgot you can't do doorknobs,” Masayoshi accused, and the wolf snorted, before hopping up on the bed and turning a circle, settling down in the mess of covers. Masayoshi glanced in the bathroom, saw that his clothes had at least made it into the hamper, and returned to rinsing the dishes.

Dangerous,” he said softly to himself, as the wolf flicked his ears.

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