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Title: then they begin [4]
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1517
Summary: oct. 18th
oct 18th
“Where are you going?” Gotou asked as Masayoshi busily shuffled around the apartment, locating half the things he'd dumped out of his knapsack the night before. Gotou himself was laying on his stomach on his bed, magazine opened before him.
“Work,” Masayoshi said unhappily. “Ishihara-san scheduled meetings for me tonight with, um-” he thought about it for a moment, and sighed deeply. “Politicians.”
“And you're going looking like that?” Gotou asked, chin in hand.
Masayoshi looked down at his sweatshirt and jeans, and back up at Gotou, brow furrowed in confusion. “Ishihara-san has people,” he said airily. “Most of my clothes got destroyed, remember?”
“Don't remind me.” Gotou glanced back down at his magazine, then up at the clock. “I'll walk you part of the way.” He sat up and stretched, arching his back as he did so.
“Tonight? But....” Masayoshi looked at the clock as well, concerned.
“It'll be fine,” Gotou said, rubbing his own shoulder.
“But what about – your clothes?” Masayoshi stage-whispered, as if anyone else was lurking in the dark corners of Gotou's apartment. Gotou snorted as he got up on his feet, tossing the magazine on the table.
“How long do you think I've been doing this, 'yoshi?”
“I don't know,” Masayoshi said sharply. “You won't tell me.”
Gotou hesitated, but only for a second. Then he shook his head sharply once as if to clear it, and walked past Masayoshi into the bathroom. Masayoshi sighed as he heard the water start to run, and then ran a hand back through his hair.
#
The sun was just starting to set as they left the apartment. “You've got your key,” Gotou confirmed for the third time – Masayoshi rolled his eyes and said again, “Yes, Gotou-san. I haven't forgotten it.”
Which, to be fair to Gotou he had forgotten it numerous times and had only been rescued by the fact that Gotou was on leave. “Do you want me to prove it?” Masayoshi asked, fishing one hand in his knapsack. Gotou stopped him by holding out his own key. “I'd feel safer if you took this one, too.” He hesitated and then stuck his hand in his pocket. “And my wallet, too.”
“Had your wallet stolen often?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou looked at him, eyebrow raised, humoring him.
“Is that one of your three?” he asked, and Masayoshi ducked his head and groaned.
“Does it have to be?” He'd asked questions throughout the month, small ones here and there hoping to dig more into the foundation that made Gotou Gotou, but Gotou was apparently too savvy for that. Mostly.
They waited for the light to change at the intersection before crossing – Gotou had put on sunglasses even though the daylight had mostly faded, in part to hide the gold color that now tinged his eyes. “Nah,” he said. “I won't count it. Just a few times; I've almost always gotten my clothes back.”
“Do you want me to take your clothes, too?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou shook his head.
“You don't intend to come back tonight,” Masayoshi said quietly, and Gotou didn't react to his words, looking instead at the sky. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one, and Masayoshi shoved him in the shoulder.
“Gotou-san!”
“I don't care if it's a no-smoking zone, I need it,” Gotou said and ignored the angry huff that came from Masayoshi.
“I'm gonna sleep in your bed if you're not coming home,” Masayoshi threatened, and Gotou shrugged loosely. He didn't take the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Suit yourself.”
Masayoshi sputtered a little, and Gotou took a step away, separating his personal space from Masayoshi's. “Speaking of which, I've got to go,” he said. He hesitated, putting out the cigarette he had just started to smoke. “I'll … try to be back before dawn, but no promises, okay?”
“Okay,” Masayoshi said sullenly. Gotou quirked a smile, still hesitating, as if thinking about something else he should do before they parted company, but changed his mind, ducking his head and heading off down the sidewalk at a hurried pace. Masayoshi lingered through the light cycle, watching Gotou disappear into the pedestrian crowd, his heart and his stomach both sour.
#
The apartment was dark and cold when he returned late that night, the chill heavy in the late October air. Masayoshi unlocked the door (using Gotou's key, he would not admit that no, he couldn't find his in his knapsack and he was going to empty it out and look for it, because he treasured that damn key and the meaning behind it) and then set Gotou's wallet and keys on the counter, next to his phone.
Masayoshi's hand hesitated, then he picked up the dark phone.
Gotou didn't seem to be mailing as much any more – he did still do it, but not with the frequency that he had. He'd also stopped talking about her entirely, now that the secret was out, but Masayoshi knew he still did. And he was curious. But this was a huge breach of trust to do it, and he wavered several moments before touching the screen, to light up the menu.
The phone had a lock screen. Masayoshi sighed, relieved, and set the phone down – then immediately felt guilty he had intended to snoop. Gotou was holding a lot back from him, though – he wanted to know so much about him, about his curse, about his girlfriend – all of it. The good and the bad.
He wandered into the main room of the apartment. It was weird being here without Gotou. Since he was on leave (paid, medical technically, although they were requiring him to do a full mental evaluation before they'd allow him back on regular duty) he was almost always home whenever Masayoshi got in. He smiled a lot more easily now, Masayoshi had noticed, although that first week after he'd moved his three duffel bags worth of belongings in and made a nest in the closet had been ... difficult.
He flopped onto the bed, and buried his face in the pillow. It smelled like Gotou, when Gotou allowed him to be close, when he would let Masayoshi slide under his arm so they could watch television side by side, curled under the same blanket. Masayoshi closed his eyes and thought, please let me in, Gotou-san.
Please.
As he drowsed off, wrapped in the blankets that smelled just like the man he loved, he thought he heard the faintest keening of a howl in the distance.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
AU: Nightbreed
Characters/Pairing: Gotou/Masayoshi
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1517
Summary: oct. 18th
oct 18th
“Where are you going?” Gotou asked as Masayoshi busily shuffled around the apartment, locating half the things he'd dumped out of his knapsack the night before. Gotou himself was laying on his stomach on his bed, magazine opened before him.
“Work,” Masayoshi said unhappily. “Ishihara-san scheduled meetings for me tonight with, um-” he thought about it for a moment, and sighed deeply. “Politicians.”
“And you're going looking like that?” Gotou asked, chin in hand.
Masayoshi looked down at his sweatshirt and jeans, and back up at Gotou, brow furrowed in confusion. “Ishihara-san has people,” he said airily. “Most of my clothes got destroyed, remember?”
“Don't remind me.” Gotou glanced back down at his magazine, then up at the clock. “I'll walk you part of the way.” He sat up and stretched, arching his back as he did so.
“Tonight? But....” Masayoshi looked at the clock as well, concerned.
“It'll be fine,” Gotou said, rubbing his own shoulder.
“But what about – your clothes?” Masayoshi stage-whispered, as if anyone else was lurking in the dark corners of Gotou's apartment. Gotou snorted as he got up on his feet, tossing the magazine on the table.
“How long do you think I've been doing this, 'yoshi?”
“I don't know,” Masayoshi said sharply. “You won't tell me.”
Gotou hesitated, but only for a second. Then he shook his head sharply once as if to clear it, and walked past Masayoshi into the bathroom. Masayoshi sighed as he heard the water start to run, and then ran a hand back through his hair.
The sun was just starting to set as they left the apartment. “You've got your key,” Gotou confirmed for the third time – Masayoshi rolled his eyes and said again, “Yes, Gotou-san. I haven't forgotten it.”
Which, to be fair to Gotou he had forgotten it numerous times and had only been rescued by the fact that Gotou was on leave. “Do you want me to prove it?” Masayoshi asked, fishing one hand in his knapsack. Gotou stopped him by holding out his own key. “I'd feel safer if you took this one, too.” He hesitated and then stuck his hand in his pocket. “And my wallet, too.”
“Had your wallet stolen often?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou looked at him, eyebrow raised, humoring him.
“Is that one of your three?” he asked, and Masayoshi ducked his head and groaned.
“Does it have to be?” He'd asked questions throughout the month, small ones here and there hoping to dig more into the foundation that made Gotou Gotou, but Gotou was apparently too savvy for that. Mostly.
They waited for the light to change at the intersection before crossing – Gotou had put on sunglasses even though the daylight had mostly faded, in part to hide the gold color that now tinged his eyes. “Nah,” he said. “I won't count it. Just a few times; I've almost always gotten my clothes back.”
“Do you want me to take your clothes, too?” Masayoshi asked, and Gotou shook his head.
“You don't intend to come back tonight,” Masayoshi said quietly, and Gotou didn't react to his words, looking instead at the sky. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one, and Masayoshi shoved him in the shoulder.
“Gotou-san!”
“I don't care if it's a no-smoking zone, I need it,” Gotou said and ignored the angry huff that came from Masayoshi.
“I'm gonna sleep in your bed if you're not coming home,” Masayoshi threatened, and Gotou shrugged loosely. He didn't take the cigarette out of his mouth.
“Suit yourself.”
Masayoshi sputtered a little, and Gotou took a step away, separating his personal space from Masayoshi's. “Speaking of which, I've got to go,” he said. He hesitated, putting out the cigarette he had just started to smoke. “I'll … try to be back before dawn, but no promises, okay?”
“Okay,” Masayoshi said sullenly. Gotou quirked a smile, still hesitating, as if thinking about something else he should do before they parted company, but changed his mind, ducking his head and heading off down the sidewalk at a hurried pace. Masayoshi lingered through the light cycle, watching Gotou disappear into the pedestrian crowd, his heart and his stomach both sour.
The apartment was dark and cold when he returned late that night, the chill heavy in the late October air. Masayoshi unlocked the door (using Gotou's key, he would not admit that no, he couldn't find his in his knapsack and he was going to empty it out and look for it, because he treasured that damn key and the meaning behind it) and then set Gotou's wallet and keys on the counter, next to his phone.
Masayoshi's hand hesitated, then he picked up the dark phone.
Gotou didn't seem to be mailing as much any more – he did still do it, but not with the frequency that he had. He'd also stopped talking about her entirely, now that the secret was out, but Masayoshi knew he still did. And he was curious. But this was a huge breach of trust to do it, and he wavered several moments before touching the screen, to light up the menu.
The phone had a lock screen. Masayoshi sighed, relieved, and set the phone down – then immediately felt guilty he had intended to snoop. Gotou was holding a lot back from him, though – he wanted to know so much about him, about his curse, about his girlfriend – all of it. The good and the bad.
He wandered into the main room of the apartment. It was weird being here without Gotou. Since he was on leave (paid, medical technically, although they were requiring him to do a full mental evaluation before they'd allow him back on regular duty) he was almost always home whenever Masayoshi got in. He smiled a lot more easily now, Masayoshi had noticed, although that first week after he'd moved his three duffel bags worth of belongings in and made a nest in the closet had been ... difficult.
He flopped onto the bed, and buried his face in the pillow. It smelled like Gotou, when Gotou allowed him to be close, when he would let Masayoshi slide under his arm so they could watch television side by side, curled under the same blanket. Masayoshi closed his eyes and thought, please let me in, Gotou-san.
Please.
As he drowsed off, wrapped in the blankets that smelled just like the man he loved, he thought he heard the faintest keening of a howl in the distance.