Snow dance
Snow dance
Tegoshi/Masuda (NEWS)
Angst, 720 words, G
And Tegoshi knows that no matter what he does or say, the best thing that can happen is that Massu agrees to comfort him before it's over.
The city seems to fall into a state of silence as it is embraced by snow (or maybe it's Tegoshi's mind that is clouded, refuses to take in what is going on around them). His eyes are on the white street, imagines the footsteps he leaves behind as he walks, imagines both of their footsteps, lit up by the lamp posts along the streets.
By his side walks Massu, and he seems to be even quieter, like he knows what this is about, but without asking. Like walking might solve it, or like the more steps they take, the closer they will get to the point where Tegoshi has to say it.
And Tegoshi already knows that he has no choice but to do so. Knows that this is his last chance, that there's nothing he can do to make it anything but the last. That no matter what he does or say, the best thing that can happen is that Massu agrees to comfort him before it's over.
The passersby are few and no one seems to notice the hair that sticks out from under Massu's hood, even though it usually stands out from everybody else's, and all Tegoshi sees when he glances towards him are the snowflakes stuck in the long strands of red. Lonely, cold, melting. Like Tegoshi himself when his hand brushes against the back of Massu's and Massu entwines their fingers.
It's easy to walk up the steps onto the pedestrian bridge that will take them over a large crossing; the heavy feeling in Tegoshi's heart is the only thing that weighs him down. He doesn't care where he's going, just chooses on a whim to go right, and Massu follows, waits.
The squeeze to his hand is what breaks him, be it intentional or not. He stops abruptly, creates a tug on Massu's hand before he slips out of his hold, and Massu turns fully to him. Still silent. Watching. And Tegoshi fists his hands, so tightly that it hurts from more than just the cold, bites into his lower lip until it reaches the same level of pain, but the tears that fall onto his cheeks are the not the product that, but of what he feels inside.
He knows he shouldn't, and Massu knows it too, he assumes, but his hands reach out on their own accord, catch Massu's coat and he doesn't care that his hands get wet from the snow on it because he needs to be closer. Massu lets him hide his face against his shoulder, wraps an arm around him, and then, after a moment of stillness, he has Tegoshi look at him with the soft touch of a finger under his chin.
Tegoshi curses himself when he leans in to press their cool lips together. It's not supposed to happen, it shouldn't (just like this steady snowfall in Tokyo). It won't make anything better, but he wants it, even if only for tonight.
“Please,” he whispers, knows that Massu will understand. There's only one thing he could possibly mean, and when strong arms pull him closer, hold him tight, when there's a nod next to his own head, he only cries harder.
The city lights, the headlights of the cars beneath them, all of it is a blur as Massu takes his hand again, pulls him along in the opposite direction over the crossing. He feels weak, a feeling he despises, but being weak is okay when he's with Massu; only the thought that tomorrow, he will have to be strong, makes him feel even weaker.
The sound of boots on snow seems loud now, and so does the beat of his heart, makes every other sound so toned down that he doesn't take notion of them. He tries to feel for Massu's pulse, wants to see if it's racing just like his own, but it's impossible from just his hand as they walk, so instead he tries to isolate his feelings, tries to calm himself down as Massu leads him in a familiar direction.
He knows it will never be reciprocated; he knows that this is the last night it will be anything at all. So tonight he will give Massu his everything, wholeheartedly, and hope that by morning the heat between them will have melted it into transparency.
Tegoshi/Masuda (NEWS)
Angst, 720 words, G
And Tegoshi knows that no matter what he does or say, the best thing that can happen is that Massu agrees to comfort him before it's over.
The city seems to fall into a state of silence as it is embraced by snow (or maybe it's Tegoshi's mind that is clouded, refuses to take in what is going on around them). His eyes are on the white street, imagines the footsteps he leaves behind as he walks, imagines both of their footsteps, lit up by the lamp posts along the streets.
By his side walks Massu, and he seems to be even quieter, like he knows what this is about, but without asking. Like walking might solve it, or like the more steps they take, the closer they will get to the point where Tegoshi has to say it.
And Tegoshi already knows that he has no choice but to do so. Knows that this is his last chance, that there's nothing he can do to make it anything but the last. That no matter what he does or say, the best thing that can happen is that Massu agrees to comfort him before it's over.
The passersby are few and no one seems to notice the hair that sticks out from under Massu's hood, even though it usually stands out from everybody else's, and all Tegoshi sees when he glances towards him are the snowflakes stuck in the long strands of red. Lonely, cold, melting. Like Tegoshi himself when his hand brushes against the back of Massu's and Massu entwines their fingers.
It's easy to walk up the steps onto the pedestrian bridge that will take them over a large crossing; the heavy feeling in Tegoshi's heart is the only thing that weighs him down. He doesn't care where he's going, just chooses on a whim to go right, and Massu follows, waits.
The squeeze to his hand is what breaks him, be it intentional or not. He stops abruptly, creates a tug on Massu's hand before he slips out of his hold, and Massu turns fully to him. Still silent. Watching. And Tegoshi fists his hands, so tightly that it hurts from more than just the cold, bites into his lower lip until it reaches the same level of pain, but the tears that fall onto his cheeks are the not the product that, but of what he feels inside.
He knows he shouldn't, and Massu knows it too, he assumes, but his hands reach out on their own accord, catch Massu's coat and he doesn't care that his hands get wet from the snow on it because he needs to be closer. Massu lets him hide his face against his shoulder, wraps an arm around him, and then, after a moment of stillness, he has Tegoshi look at him with the soft touch of a finger under his chin.
Tegoshi curses himself when he leans in to press their cool lips together. It's not supposed to happen, it shouldn't (just like this steady snowfall in Tokyo). It won't make anything better, but he wants it, even if only for tonight.
“Please,” he whispers, knows that Massu will understand. There's only one thing he could possibly mean, and when strong arms pull him closer, hold him tight, when there's a nod next to his own head, he only cries harder.
The city lights, the headlights of the cars beneath them, all of it is a blur as Massu takes his hand again, pulls him along in the opposite direction over the crossing. He feels weak, a feeling he despises, but being weak is okay when he's with Massu; only the thought that tomorrow, he will have to be strong, makes him feel even weaker.
The sound of boots on snow seems loud now, and so does the beat of his heart, makes every other sound so toned down that he doesn't take notion of them. He tries to feel for Massu's pulse, wants to see if it's racing just like his own, but it's impossible from just his hand as they walk, so instead he tries to isolate his feelings, tries to calm himself down as Massu leads him in a familiar direction.
He knows it will never be reciprocated; he knows that this is the last night it will be anything at all. So tonight he will give Massu his everything, wholeheartedly, and hope that by morning the heat between them will have melted it into transparency.