[FIC] NewS - Lucky Charm
Title: 'cause baby, you're my lucky charm
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi
Rating: PG-13 (a tiny bit of language)
Disclaimer: Not associated with Johnny's Entertainment. This is fiction; it never happened.
Summary: AU. Tegoshi has a ridiculous knack for finding himself in the weirdest, most unconventional situations anyone has ever even heard of, and, as his next door neighbor, Masuda is privy to most, if not all, of them.
A/N: This was supposed to be short. Instead, it turned into this. This is the longest oneshot I've ever written, but I must admit, I really like how it turned out. Kindly beta'd by sanjihan . I hope everyone enjoys it!
There’s golf on his TV.
Masuda has never really been all that fond of golf; he doesn’t hate it, per se, because he’s not really the type to be inclined towards hating anything, but he does think that it’s the most boring sport ever invented, and that it does not, in any circumstances, ever belong on his television.
Unfortunately, today is his only day off from work, the remote is on the exact opposite side of the couch, and he has no intention of moving any time before midnight.
So, golf it is.
He’s just starting to doze off, too bored to bother staying awake any longer, when there’s a sudden knock at his door. At first, he thinks it’s just his imagination, maybe some kind of waking dream, but the sound continues, persistent and unyielding, and Masuda realizes that it is, unfortunately, very real. He considers ignoring it - it’s his day off, damn it - but in the end, can’t bring himself to do so. He’s a nice person by nature, and anyway, what if it’s someone in trouble? Or worse, his mother.
(Of course, chances are it’s more likely to be one of his coworkers, who seem to think it’s perfectly okay to drop in unannounced. Or his landlord, who sometimes stops by and then forgets why he came.)
So he pulls himself out of his comfortable position and shuffles towards the door, pausing only to switch the television channel to something that’s not slow enough to put him to sleep.
The knocking starts again as he passes into the entry hall, and that makes Masuda frown, because honestly, it hasn’t been that long, and really, some people need to learn a thing or two about patience. He considers being grouchy about it, just for a moment, because occasionally it pays to be in a bad mood, but he’s not really the grouchy type anymore than he is mean.
When he peers out, he’s glad about his decision. It’s not a coworker, or his landlord, but a young man with stylishly dyed hair and a smile with a slightly panicked edge to it.
“Hi!” The man chirrups, and Masuda smiles at the perky edge despite himself. “My name’s Tegoshi. I’m moving in next door today.” He motions at the apartment to Masuda’s right, and yes, now that he thinks about it, that place has been empty for a while. Without hesitation, Tegoshi goes on, “Do you have a mop I can borrow?”
Masuda’s brow furrows, because it’s kind of an odd request from a new neighbor, but the cuffs of Tegoshi’s pants are wet, and his bare feet have left a trail of watery footprints from his apartment to Masuda’s door.
In the background, there’s an ominous creaking sort of noise, almost like the walls are shuddering, and then, without warning, a loud CLANG sounds out from Tegoshi’s open door, followed by the sound of water running. Masuda watches in a mild amount of horror as, seconds later, a large pool starts to seep out of Tegoshi’s doorway.
Tegoshi, to his credit, doesn’t even blink, although Masuda thinks his smile twitches, just a bit. “And the name of a good plumber?”
~***~
Masuda is no plumber, but he does know a few things about keeping an apartment up and running; important things like how to stop the water from running before a broken toilet can flood the entire house.
Tegoshi, naturally, knows none of these things, and simply stands awkwardly in the hall (because the bathroom is too tiny to fit them both without someone poking an eye out) clutching Masuda’s mop and looking on with almost bored curiosity.
“There,” Masuda says, replacing the cover on the back and going to wash his hands. It’s just water, he knows, but still. It’s toilet water. Disgusting.
Tegoshi smiles at him, almost shyly, and any irritation Masuda may have been harboring towards him melts away in an exasperated sort of defeat. He knows people like Tegoshi, who can get away with anything with just a sweet smile and a helpless look. His sister is one of those people, and he can never stay mad at her for longer than ten minutes before guilt takes over.
A quiet moment passes by, neither of them speaking, and Masuda begins to feel a little uncomfortable. Tegoshi seems not to mind; just keeps smiling and holding the mop. “So, um…” Masuda falters, for a moment forgets what he wants to say, and Tegoshi’s smile widens into a grin. “…you can handle it from here, right?”
Tegoshi doesn’t ever actually give him an answer; just keeps smiling, and it’s right around this point that Masuda realizes that he’s pretty much doomed.
~***~
Somehow, Tegoshi manages to rope him into doing the majority of the work involved in the clean up. Masuda isn’t entirely sure how that happened, but he supposes it’s really for the good of everyone in the building. He has a feeling that if he doesn’t do it, Tegoshi will just ignore it and wait for it to dry on its own, and then the tenants on the floor below will complain about water damage, and then Koyama-the-landlord will get in trouble and be miserable for a while, and the world is never a happy place when Koyama is unhappy.
It takes a while, but eventually the majority of the excess water ends up in buckets, where it belongs. Afterwards, Tegoshi beams at him and insists on buying him dinner.
“As a thank you,” he says, eyes twinkling cheerfully, and Masuda grumpily thinks that Tegoshi owes him more than that, but holds his tongue when the other man pulls out a take out menu off the fridge for one of his favorite places to go when he wants to dine inexpensively.
When the food arrives, the two find a dry spot on the floor of the living room and trade the boxes of cheap, American-style Chinese food between them. Tegoshi laughs when Masuda makes a face at the idea of eating straight from the carton, and tells him, unbothered, that all of his plates are in boxes right now and he’ll just have to deal with it. Masuda feels a little bit better, though, when Tegoshi makes it a point to save both fortune cookies for him.
They make small talk as they eat, lighthearted chatter lacking the sort of awkwardness usually found between strangers. Tegoshi is bright and charming, unyieldingly cheerful, as though he hasn’t noticed that his apartment is half-flooded. Masuda finds this oddly refreshing.
“You know,” Tegoshi says casually, just as they’re polishing off the last of the fried rice. “You never told me your name.”
It takes Masuda a moment to realize he’s right. He swallows his mouthful and takes in the other man’s curious smile and almost too-wide eyes, debates for a moment if he really should, because clearly this is going to end in disaster of some form or another, but in the end finds himself mumbling, “…Masuda. Nice to meet you.”
Tegoshi beams, and Masuda is smart enough to see a lost cause when he sees one, even when it happens to be himself.
~***~
All things considered, Tegoshi really isn’t that bad a neighbor, although Masuda finds the adjustment period trying, to say the least. Tegoshi is thoughtless and spoiled in the way that only children used to being catered to are, harmlessly self-centered and not inclined to change.
For the first few weeks, Masuda sees little of him, but he hears a great deal. Tegoshi plays his music too loudly too late in the evening, holds long, uproarious parties on weekday nights, and his fire alarm is always going off at the strangest hours. By all accounts, Masuda should think he’s the worst neighbor ever.
Except, for every irritating habit Tegoshi demonstrates, he offers something pleasant to counterbalance it.
He’s friendly when they pass in the hallways, addressing Masuda like an old friend, rather than just a neighbor; he’s helpful in strange little ways, like when Masuda has to trek down several flights of stairs to dump his garbage because some idiot jammed the shoot again, and he tags along to keep him company; and on those days when Masuda comes home exhausted after a rough shift at work, he may as well be a mouse for what Masuda hears of him.
So all in all, it’s really not that bad an arrangement. Masuda has certainly had worse neighbors in the past.
He’s quite sure, however, that he’s never had any quite as strange.
~***~
By the time the second month comes to a close, Masuda is fairly certain Tegoshi is no longer capable of surprising him. The younger man has a ridiculous knack for finding himself in the weirdest, most unconventional situations Masuda has ever even heard of, and, as his next door neighbor, Masuda is privy to most, if not all, of them.
Flooding his apartment on his first day as a tenant had been just the tip of the iceberg.
Since then, there have been six electrical malfunctions (stemming from something as simple as Tegoshi plugging in his microwave and ranging all the way through the young man’s attempt at fixing his stereo), twelve fires, thirteen broken water pipes, and one traumatizing incident involving a cat that Masuda would rather forget.
And that’s not even counting the sheer number of things Tegoshi has flat out broken, including the building’s elevator, and the stairs. (Something Masuda hadn’t even thought was possible.)
The boy is a walking disaster. A very cute walking disaster, but a disaster nonetheless.
After all of this, one would think Masuda would be familiar enough with the bizarre circumstances that trail in Tegoshi’s wake that, when he finds his younger neighbor handcuffed to his balcony railing, he wouldn’t so much as blink.
One would think.
“Tegoshi?” And yes, that is a hint of incredulousness in Masuda voice as he leans over the edge of his own balcony to get a better look.
“Hi.” Tegoshi waves at him cheerfully with the hand that isn’t cuffed to metal.
Masuda considers asking, for exactly two point five seconds, what happened that led to this, but in the end decides, for the sake of his own sanity, not to; Tegoshi’s explanations tend to be even stranger than the events themselves.
Instead, he scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Do you, um… need some help?”
Tegoshi gives him that same dazzling smile that Masuda has grown used to seeing from him, and Masuda half expects him to turn flippant and wave him off, because that seems like something he would do. Instead, the younger man shifts a bit and looks at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose you have a spare handcuff key lying around?”
Masuda doesn’t, of course. “But, I think Koyama-san keeps a pair of bolt cutters in the maintenance room?”
Tegoshi shoots him a grateful look, and Masuda finds himself thinking that it’s worth the three flights of stairs to the basement, just to see those eyes twinkling at him like that.
~***~
In addition to being a magnet for trouble and the weird, Masuda learns, Tegoshi is also a social butterfly. Masuda’s not really sure how those two things go together, but Tegoshi seems to make them work nicely, he supposes in the same way the other man has managed to charm him.
Not a night goes by that Tegoshi doesn’t go out or have someone over. He holds more parties in a week than Masuda thinks should be legal, and Masuda has passed his frequent flyers enough times in the hall to know them by name and face.
The fact that Tegoshi seems intent on not only making Masuda aware of these events, but also on including him in them, is both amusing and frustrating, all at once.
“Masuda-kun!” And Masuda rolls his eyes, because, honestly, it’s almost like clockwork with Tegoshi; the music will start pounding, people will start arriving, and shortly after Tegoshi will find some excuse to “accidentally” bump into him in the hall. If he wasn’t so flattered by the attention, he might have found it annoying.
“You know,” Masuda says by way of greeting, peering around Tegoshi’s shoulder. The younger man’s apartment looks dangerously overcrowded, and the very thought of being in the middle of that makes him uneasy, “if you keep this up, Tanaka in 4C is going to complain to Koyama.”
Masuda has had a few run ins with that woman; she’s elderly, but not the sweet, grandmotherly type that might make her a pleasant neighbor; rather, she’s bitter and lonely, and tends to bang on the walls if someone so much as sneezes after midnight.
Tegoshi’s brow furrows, and for a moment, he looks adorably confused. “Who?” He asks, but before Masuda can answer, abruptly looks enlightened. “Oh, you mean Mina-chan?” He laughs as Masuda’s eyebrows shoot up at the use of her first name. “Why would she complain? She’s inside playing Super Smash Bros.”
As if on cue, there’s a groan from inside, loud enough that it can be heard over the music, followed by one of Tegoshi’s friends howling in laughter, “Dude, you just lost to a fucking grandma! That’s-OW!”
And then, the unmistakable voice of Tanaka of 4C, “Watch your language, brat!”
“OW! Fine, just stop with the cane, lady!”
Masuda isn’t sure if he should laugh or not. As it is, he just shakes his head while Tegoshi grins. “You’re something else, you know that?” Masuda says to the younger man, but it’s too lighthearted to be anything but a compliment, and Tegoshi seems to take it as such.
“Thanks,” He says airily, and then he rocks on his heels, suddenly looking shy. “Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s a really great party.”
Masuda doesn’t doubt that it is, but parties aren’t really his thing; or at least, parties where he doesn’t really know anyone except for Tegoshi, a few of his friends, and the sour old woman down the hall. He declines politely, and tries to ignore the guilt he feels when Tegoshi actually looks a bit disappointed, wonders why he even feels guilty at all.
But before he can really think about it, Tegoshi is bouncing back, blithely patting Masuda on the shoulder and offering, “Well, maybe next time then,” before bouncing back towards his apartment. Masuda kind of hates the fact that he can tell the skip in his step is forced, but he what he hates more is the fact that he can’t bring himself to speak up about it, because right now he’s not really sure if that’s something he wants to ponder.
In the end, he ends up at the party anyway. Not because he changes his mind, but because Tegoshi takes two steps into his home, closes the front door, and then watches wide-eyed as it promptly pops right off the hinges and falls backwards, and then gives Masuda a pleading, help me sort of look that’s pretty much impossible to deny.
And, well, after he finishes fixing the door, it’s kind of hard to make himself leave, even though the music is still too loud and there are still way too many people, because Tegoshi has latched onto his arm, and Masuda doesn’t think he could handle seeing those eyes upset again. At least not tonight.
~***~
About two weeks after the six month ‘anniversary’ of gaining a neighbor, Masuda comes home late. It’s not often he lets himself be talked into after-work gatherings, but tonight his coworkers had been adamant, and he hadn’t been of the mood to put up much of a fight. It hadn’t been that bad of a get-together, all in all, and Masuda is admittedly a little bit buzzed as he reaches his floor (through the stairs, naturally, because Tegoshi has gone and broken the elevator yet again); not drunk, but looser than usual.
This is probably why, when the first thing he sees is Tegoshi kneeling on the floor in front of his apartment door, fussing with the doorknob with a paperclip, all he does is roll his eyes and repress a grin.
“Lock yourself out again?” He questions idly, pausing in front of his own door to watch.
“Yep,” is Tegoshi’s distracted response, not bothering to tear his eyes from the lock he’s trying to pick. The paperclip suddenly snaps, and Tegoshi pulls away with a pout. “Damn it…”
Masuda feels a strange surge of sympathy for him, all at once. Tegoshi always seems to be getting the short end of the stick. And yes, sometimes it happens in hilariously comical ways, but Masuda thinks that it must get frustrating, sometimes, always having things going wrong in some way or another. It’s kind of amazing that Tegoshi remains as upbeat as he is, all things considered.
And maybe it’s the alcohol, but suddenly he doesn’t think he could quite bear it if he let Tegoshi walk away right now, all dejected and miserable. (Which he isn’t, actually, and okay, maybe Masuda is a little bit more than buzzed.) He can’t quite help himself, then, when he reaches out and catches the younger man by the arm as he passes.
Tegoshi peers at him curiously, but not bothered, and Masuda is suddenly struck by the idea that, for a guy, he’s really quite pretty.
“Um…” He says finally, when he realizes Tegoshi is probably waiting for him to speak. “If you want, you can… crash on my couch tonight. I mean, you know…” Frankly, Masuda doesn’t even really know what he’s getting at; he’s starting to regret that last beer his coworkers had oh so kindly insisted he have. “…if you want.”
Tegoshi stares for a moment, head tilted to the side, like this is a puzzle he can’t figure out, and Masuda suddenly feels a bit nervous. “Really?” Masuda shrugs, and then nods.
The smile he gets is nothing short of dazzling.
~***~
Tegoshi makes a big deal out of his apartment, fawning over every little thing, and it makes Masuda uncomfortable. He’s never really put much thought into it; it’s just his apartment. He lives here when he’s not at work. It’s nothing special.
Tegoshi, apparently, disagrees. “You’ve never invited me inside before,” He informs Masuda, pouting a bit, like this is some kind of great offense. Before Masuda can comment, he goes on, “It’s nice. Not as nice as mine, I mean, but it’s very… Massu.”
He flutters by, apparently with the intent on investigating the kitchenette, leaving Masuda wondering just how much of that was meant to be a compliment.
It takes him a minute to catch the nickname.
“’Massu’?” He echoes blankly, trailing after the other man in time to catch him sorting through his refrigerator like he owns it. Masuda feels a spark of irritation, because honestly, he just finished organizing it. But he doesn’t want to deal with the pout that would follow him saying so, and just keeps his mouth shut.
“Yeah,” Tegoshi answers, unashamed. “’Masuda-kun’ is so formal, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve known each other for six months…”
Masuda hardly thinks so, but again, picks his battles.
Reaching out, he plucks his milk carton from Tegoshi’s grip and tries to dislodge him from his kitchen. “Fine,” he says, sounding just the smallest bit distressed. “Could you just… stop touching things, please?”
Tegoshi stares at him with a mildly bemused expression, but obediently lets himself be shooed towards the living room, falling onto the couch without asking and making himself right at home. “You’re strange, Massu.” He says, and Masuda blinks, isn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Do you always let your neighbors stay with you when they need it?”
“Most of my neighbors don’t make it a habit of locking themselves out of their apartments.”
Tegoshi actually giggles. “I guess I’m just special then.”
That’s one word for it, Masuda thinks to himself, not unkindly, but decides against saying it aloud. Instead, he decides to cut off an awkward moment before it can begin and mumbles, “Well, it’s kind of late. I’ll get you a blanket, and then I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Tegoshi makes no protest, and when Masuda leaves him and wanders back to his bedroom, the younger man is curled up on his sofa watching old American cartoons.
~***~
An hour later and Masuda finally starts to feel himself drift off. It usually doesn’t take so long, and maybe it’s the fact that he has someone unfamiliar in his apartment, but tonight, something keeps him frustratingly awake.
He’s just on the edge of sleep, finally, when there’s a loud cracking sound from the living room, followed by a sudden crash and thud that shakes the whole apartment.
The sound of it snaps him awake almost immediately, and he stumbles out of bed in a dazed sort of panic, tripping over his blankets and stumbling into walls as he goes. Half-expecting some kind of terrible catastrophe - like an explosion, or an earthquake - he’s both relieved and distressed to find, instead, Tegoshi, sitting in the middle of his living room floor, surrounded by the broken remains of his couch.
“Oops,” Tegoshi says, sheepish and actually sounding a little bit embarrassed.
~***~
“Are you sure this is okay?” Despite the question, Tegoshi squirms a bit, burrowing a little bit deeper into the blankets of Masuda’s bed, and Masuda waits until he’s resettled to answer.
“It’s fine,” he mumbles sleepily, and is perfectly content to leave it at that.
Tegoshi is not. “You don’t think it’s kind of awkward?” he asks, and although Masuda has his back facing the younger man, he can tell Tegoshi is peering over his shoulder at him curiously. Inwardly, he thinks that’s a strange question, given who it’s coming from.
“Would you rather sleep on the floor?” And okay, maybe it comes out a little bit cranky, but it’s almost two in the morning. Masuda thinks he’s entitled to be less than pleasant.
Tegoshi just laughs, not at all offended. “No,” He says, tone light. It’s quiet for a few moments after, and Masuda wonders if he’s finally gone to sleep, but just as the thought crosses him mind, Tegoshi murmurs, “I am sorry, you know. About your couch.”
Masuda isn’t sure why, but that touches him, just a bit. Tegoshi is usually so irreverent about the disasters that he causes; to hear him sound sincerely apologetic is strange, but oddly comforting, and any anger he may have been feeling about the incident fades away right then. “Don’t worry about it,” he says mildly. “Go to sleep.”
He never really liked that couch, anyway.
~***~
After that, Tegoshi seems to take it as though he has some kind of written invitation to invade Masuda’s apartment whenever he likes. He invites himself over at all hours, barges in right before dinner and somehow cons his way into staying, and often spends the night without even asking if it’s alright.
At some point, he manages to discover where Masuda hides his spare key, and after that, it becomes commonplace for Masuda to come home from work and find the other man lounging comfortably on the floor in front of the TV, flipping through one of Masuda’s magazines, going through his DVD collection, and generally just making a nuisance of himself.
Despite it all, Masuda lets him get away with it. He lets Tegoshi in every time, never turns him away, and never bothers changing the hiding place for the key.
It’s bizarre, really, almost surreal, that he doesn’t mind this strange invasion. He’s always been a private sort of person, the type that makes friends but never lets them cross certain boundaries. Tegoshi dances across the lines of them all, and Masuda is startled to find that he feels no need to push him away.
Very strange, and not exactly something he’s ready to explore just yet.
Tegoshi, naturally, doesn’t give him that option. Masuda comes home from work one evening, tired and drooping and looking forward to a hot bath, to find his apartment crawling with people he barely knows. Tegoshi is at the center of it, laughing loudly and acting like not a thing is out of place.
And on any other day, Masuda might have let him get away with it. But tonight, he’s exhausted from working a too long shift and all he wants is to collapse and relax for a bit, but there are a bunch of strangers crawling around his apartment, touching things and dragging in dirt and germs and who knows what else, and he won’t be able to do that now, not until he cleans it up and gets them all out.
Tegoshi beams at him when he catches sight of him coming close, but Masuda doesn’t return it. “Massu, you-hey!”
Grabbing him by the wrist without preamble, Masuda half-leads, half-drags him down the hall. Tegoshi squeaks in protest, and his friends watch them go with surprise in their eyes, but no one moves to stop him, and when Masuda tugs him into his bedroom and closes the door behind them, the sudden lack of chatter and music and noise is such a relief that he actually feels himself sag a bit.
“Massu?” Tegoshi asks, eyeing him in a mixture of concern and curiosity. And Masuda wants to be angry at him, he really does, but damn if it’s not hard with Tegoshi looking at him like that.
“Tegoshi,” He finally says after a long moment, weary suddenly, wondering how it is that he’s still standing when all he wants to do is just collapse. “You can’t… do things like this. This is my apartment; you can’t invite people over without asking me first. You can’t just-”
But he doesn’t get to finish, because suddenly Tegoshi is there, pressing his lips against Masuda’s firmly, hands curling around the other man’s neck to hold him in place, and Masuda is so surprised his mouth drops open, just a bit, but that’s enough, because Tegoshi’s tongue presses in and tangles with his. It’s sloppy and intense and not something Masuda’s ever thought about, only he kind of has, he just never really realized it until now.
They part after a moment, but Tegoshi doesn’t let go, keeps him close enough that he can feel Tegoshi’s pounding heartbeat. Or maybe that’s his own, it’s hard to tell. Masuda lets out a slow, shuddering breath he hadn’t realize he’d been holding and fights to keep his arms from circling the slightly smaller man’s waist.
“You’re drunk,” he mumbles instead, still tasting the alcohol, and Tegoshi smiles.
“A little,” he admits, sounding almost shy. It’s cute, and Masuda has to fight back a grin, because he’s never really seen Tegoshi shy before. Not like this, anyway. “But… I’ve kind of wanted to do that for a while now.”
Masuda considers this quietly for a moment, before saying, quietly, “Oh.”
Tegoshi waits, watches him closely, but Masuda says nothing else, and after a moment, he grows impatient, and maybe just a little bit worried. Maybe a little scared, too. “You could say something, you know.”
Masuda looks contemplative for a moment, finally saying, very seriously, “Don’t invite people over to my apartment again without asking me first, okay? I don’t like it.”
Tegoshi gapes, incredulous. “You can’t be serio-”
Masuda cuts him off, apparently deciding it would be a good idea to kiss him again, but Tegoshi doesn’t seem to mind. The party goes on without them.
~***~
Nothing really changes after that, except for the fact that Masuda suddenly finds himself being included in just about everything Tegoshi does. He’s no longer just a neighbor, but a friend, and Tegoshi pulls him into his not-so-little social circle with a certain amount of tenacious determination that’s just as endearing as it is frustrating.
Admittedly, this isn’t really all that different from the way it had been before, but now Masuda doesn’t have any pretext to turn him down, not when Tegoshi is now a sort-of-something-there-between-them friend.
It’s not that bad, really. Tegoshi seems to know everyone, and eventually, by proxy, Masuda does too.
There’s Yamapi and Ryo, and Shige too, who is apparently good friends with Koyama and happens to be the reason Tegoshi was allowed to move in initially. Then there’s Jin, who Tegoshi seems to have the strangest love-hate relationship that Masuda has ever heard of. Jin’s group, who seem more like rivals than actual friends half the time, but are never anything but doting where Tegoshi is concerned, and Ryo’s other group, who have apparently nickname themselves Eight, although Masuda doesn’t understand why, seeing as there are only seven of them.
The list goes on, and stretches into some of the most bizarre, far-reaching areas. Like Kusano, who spends more time in America than in Japan and sends ridiculous text messages at strange hours in the early morning. Or Johnny Kitagawa - yes, that Johnny Kitagawa, and Masuda’s not entirely sure he wants to know how that friendship came about.
Out of all of them, Masuda likes Shige the best. (Well, him and Nakamaru, but he doesn’t get to see Nakamaru as much as he’d like, since their schedules never seem to overlap well.)
Shige is calm and intelligent, startlingly normal given Tegoshi’s usual standards for friends. He’s sensible and friendly enough, if a bit sarcastic, and he doesn’t tease Masuda over his taste in clothes or his tendency to spout strange facts at weird moments or his slightly unhealthy adoration of food like the rest of Tegoshi’s friends do. He’s a stable, solid presence in a world that, for Masuda, has been rapidly spinning out of control.
The first time they go out together, just the two of them, it isn’t awkward at all. Instead, Masuda orders tea and indulges in a chocolate chip cookie (“Fresh baked,” the waitress says with a flirty wink) while Shige sticks with coffee. They sip their respective drinks quietly, people watch, and make small talk about unimportant things, and it feels nice and unhurried and steady.
Or at least it does until Shige sets down his cup, rests his elbows on the table between them, and says, point blank, “So, what’s up with you and Tegoshi?”
And then any sense of “peace” comes crashing down around his ears rather violently.
“Um…” He says, and then takes a rather large bite of his cookie, because he really doesn’t want to talk about it. It isn’t complicated, exactly, but he’s still not entirely sure what he thinks about Tegoshi just yet, and the fact that they occasionally trade kisses when no one else is around hasn’t made it any easier.
The fact that Tegoshi can’t go two seconds without breaking something is also a bit of a concern.
Shige eyes him critically for a moment, in a way that makes Masuda want to squirm, before he sighs and goes back to his coffee. “Look,” He says a sip later. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that he’s kind of… accident prone.”
It’s not exactly a hard thing to miss. Masuda nods. Shige nods back, although Masuda suspects it’s more to himself.
“I’m just…” He pauses, sighs, and slouches a bit. Masuda suddenly has a feeling that he’s about to be leveled with. “I’m worried. We all are. Tegoshi’s… a brat, but he’s our brat, and… he’s a lot more sensitive than he likes people to know.” Shige looks sad, saying this, like it’s a bad train of thought that he doesn’t want to follow. “He tries hard, to not let it bother him. But things don’t often go right for him. And that… sometimes it takes a toll.”
There’s a pause, where Shige collects his thoughts, considers what to say next, and Masuda takes a moment to turn his words around in his head, thinking them over carefully. When Shige speaks next, it’s with careful precision.
“He likes you. A lot.” It’s blunt, point blank, and Masuda resists the urge to flinch away. “And I… we… don’t want to see him hurt.” There’s a carefully veiled threat there, one that it takes Masuda a moment to catch, but when he does, he almost, almost smiles. He’s getting the official welcome to the family speech, he realizes, and that, somehow, makes him feel significantly lighter.
“I think,” he says after a long moment, thinking it over carefully, realizing that maybe this strange feeling of being out of control isn’t quite as frightening as he maybe thought at first. Different, but not in a bad way, “that I might like him too.”
For a brief instant, he wonders if that was the wrong answer, because Shige continues to look at him firmly, like he’s looking for something.
But then he smiles suddenly, relaxes back into his seat like he’s relieved. “Good,” he says, signaling the waitress for a refill, “because I like you. Tegoshi’s a lot less clumsy when you’re around.”
He actually laughs at Masuda’s look of disbelief. “Less?”
“Oh yeah,” Shige grins, only it’s soft, fond. “He pays more attention, and he tries to be more careful. I think he’s afraid of scaring you off.”
The conversation moves on from there, onto more lighthearted topics that don’t leave Masuda near as uncomfortable, but that comment sticks with him for weeks after, weighing heavily on him for reasons he can’t understand.
~***~
One evening, Masuda comes home to find Tegoshi's door open and several large men in yellow jackets and familiar hats mulling about. There are thick, dark plumes of smoke wafting out of the apartment, and a small crowd had gathered to watch as the firemen move from place to place, muttering in firemen jargon as they go.
Masuda feels his chest seize up at the realization that there are firefighters in Tegoshi's apartment, and his heart only settles when he catches sight of a familiar profile at the front of the crowd.
"What happened?" he asks, and Tegoshi peers at him for a moment in silent greeting before answering.
"I tried to make toast," he says, like the connection between that and the fire brigade romping through his apartment should be obvious. When it becomes apparent that it's not, at least to Masuda, he adds helpfully, "Toasters don't like me."
Masuda thinks of the cellphone incident last week, the bizarre television mishap the week before, and the smoldering, overheated laptop that they'd had to chuck out a window for fear of it exploding, and wonders if any form of technology likes Tegoshi.
The firemen tromp out. One of them is carrying a very charred rendition of what Masuda assumes was Tegoshi's toaster. Tegoshi seems very sad to see it go.
The Captain of the squad comes out to see them, and he addresses Tegoshi casually, “The fire’s out, and we managed to save your counter, but you shouldn’t go in for a while. At least until the smoke airs out.” They talk a bit more, and then the Captain moves to leave, patting Tegoshi on the shoulder as he passes.
"See you next time, Tegoshi," he says amicably, his tone familiar, and Masuda wonders just how many times this has happened.
Tegoshi nods and waves, distracted. "Bye, Ohno-san. Thanks."
The crowd starts to disperse, apparently bored now that they know the building isn’t actually burning down. Eventually only Masuda and Tegoshi are left, both watching Tegoshi’s doorway. Tegoshi is pouting, arms crossed, looking like he’s maybe a little bit lost on what to do next. When the pout starts to fade, replaced by a sly sort of grin, Masuda doesn’t even have to ask to know what he’s think, and rolls his eyes with a sigh.
“Come on,” he says, motioning Tegoshi to follow him, heading for his own apartment, and Tegoshi grins.
“Thanks Massu!” He chirrups, and Masuda feels oddly pleased with himself.
~***~
As it turns out, neither of them have eaten, so Masuda fixes them something simple while Tegoshi watches from island counter, making small talk in an effort at easing the boredom. It’s not unpleasant; in fact, it’s rather comfortable, Masuda finds, talking with Tegoshi about little things, even if the younger man does do most of the talking.
“So, have you thought about it at all?” Tegoshi suddenly says, and Masuda squints at the meat he has cooking in a pan.
“About what?”
Tegoshi laughs. “Where you’re taking me on our first date, silly.” He says it so casually, like he doesn’t even notice that Masuda chokes on nothing and abruptly breaks into a coughing fit. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or expensive, you know. I’m okay with something that’s not upscale. And of course, family restaurants usually have better atmosphere, anyway.”
“Of course,” Masuda echoes numbly.
“Either way, I don’t want you spending too much money. It’s just a first date, after all. We can always-”
Tegoshi cuts off suddenly with a startled cry, and before Masuda can turn around, there’s the sound of wood splintering, something like marble shattering, and a loud thump. When he does turn to face it, he finds half of his counter top missing, along with his houseguest.
“Tegoshi?!” Abandoning the stove, he hurries around to the other side, and then breathes a heavy sigh of relief. Tegoshi is there, looking relatively unscathed, if shocked. The same cannot be said for his stool, which is scattered around his floor in many tiny wooden fragments. The missing part of his counter is there too, although that’s just in one big, broken-off piece.
In retrospect, Masuda will think it strange, but at that moment, he doesn’t care about the stool or counter. He cares about Tegoshi, who is sitting very still, staring wide-eyed at the mess and actually looking distressed about it, something Masuda has never seen before.
“Are you okay?” Tegoshi nods stiffly, and Masuda goes to kneel down beside him.
“Massu… I…” he stops, trailing off, bites his lower lip and looks anywhere but Masuda. “I’m sorry.” And somehow, it sounds like he’s apologizing for more than just the counter and stool. “It seems like every time I’m here, I end up breaking something.”
Masuda wants to protest that; Tegoshi doesn’t always break things. Sometimes he gets them locked in the bathroom or the closet, after all. One memorable time he’d even managed to get them stuck in the pantry, and boy had that been fun. And then there was the time that Masuda is almost positive they were abducted by aliens…
Actually, thinking about it, Masuda thinks maybe he shouldn’t mention any of this; it might just make it worse.
Instead, he thinks back, recalls his conversation with Shige and the other man’s words. He’s a lot more sensitive than he likes people to know. He’s never seen it before now; Tegoshi has never been someone that Masuda had imagined as insecure. Masuda hadn’t really believed it until that moment, seeing it for himself.
Something occurs to him then, something that hadn’t really crossed his mind until just now, but suddenly seems horribly important, looking at Tegoshi’s downcast eyes and saddened expression.
“Has it always been like this?” Masuda asks, and when Tegoshi peers up to meet his, he motions absently at the broken stool and counter.
“Oh,” Tegoshi says, frowning, and for a moment he looks like he’s honestly thinking about it. Absently, he fiddles with a broken sliver of wood, and Masuda wants to warn him against splinters. “I guess so,” he admits finally, and when he glances back at Masuda, he looks startlingly sad. “My mother… she used to say I was unlucky, when I was little. I was always causing trouble for her. So…” He shrugs. “I guess it has always been this way.”
Masuda can’t help but think that that’s a terrible thing to say to a child. But he doesn’t say as much, instead focusing on Tegoshi’s expression. He doesn’t look upset, or even really bothered by it. Instead, there’s something akin to stubbornness there, defiance, and it takes Masuda a moment to read it properly.
“You don’t think so,” He finally says, not a question, but a simple statement.
Tegoshi smiles at him. “How can I?” He questions rhetorically, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “Good things happen to me all the time,” He looks at Masuda here pointedly, like he’s trying to say something without saying it, and Masuda feels his face warm up at the implication, but can’t help but smile back.
The moment only lasts a few precious seconds, however, because after just a brief moment, Tegoshi’s eyes widen and he shrieks, “Massu, the food!” just as the stove abruptly bursts into flames.
~***~
They manage to save the stove, just barely, but the food is rendered inedible. Masuda orders takeout for them, and when it arrives, they sit together on the floor where Masuda’s couch had once been, eating out of the carton even though Masuda still thinks it’s disgusting and uncivilized. As they trade the boxes back and forth between them, their fingers brush and linger, and every so often their eyes meet. They smile shyly with matching blushes and look away, but never for very long.
Masuda thinks about the first day they met, and how they’d done exactly this, only then as strangers. He remembers about the months that have followed, and smiles into his food.
“What are you thinking about, Massu?” Tegoshi asks, sifting through the carton in hand with his chopsticks, peering at him curiously through his bangs, and Masuda blushes and looks away nervously. Apparently that gives him away, however, because Tegoshi laughs in delight, his whole face lighting up in a way that makes Masuda think that he really should be kissing him.
So he does.
And if the light bulb in the overhead lamp happens to shatter abruptly and for no reason while they’re busy, well, Masuda doesn’t notice.
~omake~
“We are not having sex in my bed.”
Tegoshi pulls away from Masuda with a firm pout. “Why not?” He demands, crossing his arms and looking irritated by this sudden rule.
Masuda fixes him with a stern look. “Because I like my bed, and if we’re going to break something having sex, I’d rather it not be that.” He loves Tegoshi, he really does, but that’s pushing it.
“But Massu-”
“No.”
“But-”
“No, Yuya. And if you want this at all, you’ll stop asking.”
Tegoshi pouts even harder, but doesn’t say anything. Masuda takes this as consent to continue from where they left off.
(In the end, they do make it to the bed. But not before breaking Masuda’s table and rendering two of his chairs completely unusable.)
(It was worth it.)
~END~
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi
Rating: PG-13 (a tiny bit of language)
Disclaimer: Not associated with Johnny's Entertainment. This is fiction; it never happened.
Summary: AU. Tegoshi has a ridiculous knack for finding himself in the weirdest, most unconventional situations anyone has ever even heard of, and, as his next door neighbor, Masuda is privy to most, if not all, of them.
A/N: This was supposed to be short. Instead, it turned into this. This is the longest oneshot I've ever written, but I must admit, I really like how it turned out. Kindly beta'd by sanjihan . I hope everyone enjoys it!
There’s golf on his TV.
Masuda has never really been all that fond of golf; he doesn’t hate it, per se, because he’s not really the type to be inclined towards hating anything, but he does think that it’s the most boring sport ever invented, and that it does not, in any circumstances, ever belong on his television.
Unfortunately, today is his only day off from work, the remote is on the exact opposite side of the couch, and he has no intention of moving any time before midnight.
So, golf it is.
He’s just starting to doze off, too bored to bother staying awake any longer, when there’s a sudden knock at his door. At first, he thinks it’s just his imagination, maybe some kind of waking dream, but the sound continues, persistent and unyielding, and Masuda realizes that it is, unfortunately, very real. He considers ignoring it - it’s his day off, damn it - but in the end, can’t bring himself to do so. He’s a nice person by nature, and anyway, what if it’s someone in trouble? Or worse, his mother.
(Of course, chances are it’s more likely to be one of his coworkers, who seem to think it’s perfectly okay to drop in unannounced. Or his landlord, who sometimes stops by and then forgets why he came.)
So he pulls himself out of his comfortable position and shuffles towards the door, pausing only to switch the television channel to something that’s not slow enough to put him to sleep.
The knocking starts again as he passes into the entry hall, and that makes Masuda frown, because honestly, it hasn’t been that long, and really, some people need to learn a thing or two about patience. He considers being grouchy about it, just for a moment, because occasionally it pays to be in a bad mood, but he’s not really the grouchy type anymore than he is mean.
When he peers out, he’s glad about his decision. It’s not a coworker, or his landlord, but a young man with stylishly dyed hair and a smile with a slightly panicked edge to it.
“Hi!” The man chirrups, and Masuda smiles at the perky edge despite himself. “My name’s Tegoshi. I’m moving in next door today.” He motions at the apartment to Masuda’s right, and yes, now that he thinks about it, that place has been empty for a while. Without hesitation, Tegoshi goes on, “Do you have a mop I can borrow?”
Masuda’s brow furrows, because it’s kind of an odd request from a new neighbor, but the cuffs of Tegoshi’s pants are wet, and his bare feet have left a trail of watery footprints from his apartment to Masuda’s door.
In the background, there’s an ominous creaking sort of noise, almost like the walls are shuddering, and then, without warning, a loud CLANG sounds out from Tegoshi’s open door, followed by the sound of water running. Masuda watches in a mild amount of horror as, seconds later, a large pool starts to seep out of Tegoshi’s doorway.
Tegoshi, to his credit, doesn’t even blink, although Masuda thinks his smile twitches, just a bit. “And the name of a good plumber?”
~***~
Masuda is no plumber, but he does know a few things about keeping an apartment up and running; important things like how to stop the water from running before a broken toilet can flood the entire house.
Tegoshi, naturally, knows none of these things, and simply stands awkwardly in the hall (because the bathroom is too tiny to fit them both without someone poking an eye out) clutching Masuda’s mop and looking on with almost bored curiosity.
“There,” Masuda says, replacing the cover on the back and going to wash his hands. It’s just water, he knows, but still. It’s toilet water. Disgusting.
Tegoshi smiles at him, almost shyly, and any irritation Masuda may have been harboring towards him melts away in an exasperated sort of defeat. He knows people like Tegoshi, who can get away with anything with just a sweet smile and a helpless look. His sister is one of those people, and he can never stay mad at her for longer than ten minutes before guilt takes over.
A quiet moment passes by, neither of them speaking, and Masuda begins to feel a little uncomfortable. Tegoshi seems not to mind; just keeps smiling and holding the mop. “So, um…” Masuda falters, for a moment forgets what he wants to say, and Tegoshi’s smile widens into a grin. “…you can handle it from here, right?”
Tegoshi doesn’t ever actually give him an answer; just keeps smiling, and it’s right around this point that Masuda realizes that he’s pretty much doomed.
~***~
Somehow, Tegoshi manages to rope him into doing the majority of the work involved in the clean up. Masuda isn’t entirely sure how that happened, but he supposes it’s really for the good of everyone in the building. He has a feeling that if he doesn’t do it, Tegoshi will just ignore it and wait for it to dry on its own, and then the tenants on the floor below will complain about water damage, and then Koyama-the-landlord will get in trouble and be miserable for a while, and the world is never a happy place when Koyama is unhappy.
It takes a while, but eventually the majority of the excess water ends up in buckets, where it belongs. Afterwards, Tegoshi beams at him and insists on buying him dinner.
“As a thank you,” he says, eyes twinkling cheerfully, and Masuda grumpily thinks that Tegoshi owes him more than that, but holds his tongue when the other man pulls out a take out menu off the fridge for one of his favorite places to go when he wants to dine inexpensively.
When the food arrives, the two find a dry spot on the floor of the living room and trade the boxes of cheap, American-style Chinese food between them. Tegoshi laughs when Masuda makes a face at the idea of eating straight from the carton, and tells him, unbothered, that all of his plates are in boxes right now and he’ll just have to deal with it. Masuda feels a little bit better, though, when Tegoshi makes it a point to save both fortune cookies for him.
They make small talk as they eat, lighthearted chatter lacking the sort of awkwardness usually found between strangers. Tegoshi is bright and charming, unyieldingly cheerful, as though he hasn’t noticed that his apartment is half-flooded. Masuda finds this oddly refreshing.
“You know,” Tegoshi says casually, just as they’re polishing off the last of the fried rice. “You never told me your name.”
It takes Masuda a moment to realize he’s right. He swallows his mouthful and takes in the other man’s curious smile and almost too-wide eyes, debates for a moment if he really should, because clearly this is going to end in disaster of some form or another, but in the end finds himself mumbling, “…Masuda. Nice to meet you.”
Tegoshi beams, and Masuda is smart enough to see a lost cause when he sees one, even when it happens to be himself.
~***~
All things considered, Tegoshi really isn’t that bad a neighbor, although Masuda finds the adjustment period trying, to say the least. Tegoshi is thoughtless and spoiled in the way that only children used to being catered to are, harmlessly self-centered and not inclined to change.
For the first few weeks, Masuda sees little of him, but he hears a great deal. Tegoshi plays his music too loudly too late in the evening, holds long, uproarious parties on weekday nights, and his fire alarm is always going off at the strangest hours. By all accounts, Masuda should think he’s the worst neighbor ever.
Except, for every irritating habit Tegoshi demonstrates, he offers something pleasant to counterbalance it.
He’s friendly when they pass in the hallways, addressing Masuda like an old friend, rather than just a neighbor; he’s helpful in strange little ways, like when Masuda has to trek down several flights of stairs to dump his garbage because some idiot jammed the shoot again, and he tags along to keep him company; and on those days when Masuda comes home exhausted after a rough shift at work, he may as well be a mouse for what Masuda hears of him.
So all in all, it’s really not that bad an arrangement. Masuda has certainly had worse neighbors in the past.
He’s quite sure, however, that he’s never had any quite as strange.
~***~
By the time the second month comes to a close, Masuda is fairly certain Tegoshi is no longer capable of surprising him. The younger man has a ridiculous knack for finding himself in the weirdest, most unconventional situations Masuda has ever even heard of, and, as his next door neighbor, Masuda is privy to most, if not all, of them.
Flooding his apartment on his first day as a tenant had been just the tip of the iceberg.
Since then, there have been six electrical malfunctions (stemming from something as simple as Tegoshi plugging in his microwave and ranging all the way through the young man’s attempt at fixing his stereo), twelve fires, thirteen broken water pipes, and one traumatizing incident involving a cat that Masuda would rather forget.
And that’s not even counting the sheer number of things Tegoshi has flat out broken, including the building’s elevator, and the stairs. (Something Masuda hadn’t even thought was possible.)
The boy is a walking disaster. A very cute walking disaster, but a disaster nonetheless.
After all of this, one would think Masuda would be familiar enough with the bizarre circumstances that trail in Tegoshi’s wake that, when he finds his younger neighbor handcuffed to his balcony railing, he wouldn’t so much as blink.
One would think.
“Tegoshi?” And yes, that is a hint of incredulousness in Masuda voice as he leans over the edge of his own balcony to get a better look.
“Hi.” Tegoshi waves at him cheerfully with the hand that isn’t cuffed to metal.
Masuda considers asking, for exactly two point five seconds, what happened that led to this, but in the end decides, for the sake of his own sanity, not to; Tegoshi’s explanations tend to be even stranger than the events themselves.
Instead, he scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Do you, um… need some help?”
Tegoshi gives him that same dazzling smile that Masuda has grown used to seeing from him, and Masuda half expects him to turn flippant and wave him off, because that seems like something he would do. Instead, the younger man shifts a bit and looks at him hopefully. “I don’t suppose you have a spare handcuff key lying around?”
Masuda doesn’t, of course. “But, I think Koyama-san keeps a pair of bolt cutters in the maintenance room?”
Tegoshi shoots him a grateful look, and Masuda finds himself thinking that it’s worth the three flights of stairs to the basement, just to see those eyes twinkling at him like that.
~***~
In addition to being a magnet for trouble and the weird, Masuda learns, Tegoshi is also a social butterfly. Masuda’s not really sure how those two things go together, but Tegoshi seems to make them work nicely, he supposes in the same way the other man has managed to charm him.
Not a night goes by that Tegoshi doesn’t go out or have someone over. He holds more parties in a week than Masuda thinks should be legal, and Masuda has passed his frequent flyers enough times in the hall to know them by name and face.
The fact that Tegoshi seems intent on not only making Masuda aware of these events, but also on including him in them, is both amusing and frustrating, all at once.
“Masuda-kun!” And Masuda rolls his eyes, because, honestly, it’s almost like clockwork with Tegoshi; the music will start pounding, people will start arriving, and shortly after Tegoshi will find some excuse to “accidentally” bump into him in the hall. If he wasn’t so flattered by the attention, he might have found it annoying.
“You know,” Masuda says by way of greeting, peering around Tegoshi’s shoulder. The younger man’s apartment looks dangerously overcrowded, and the very thought of being in the middle of that makes him uneasy, “if you keep this up, Tanaka in 4C is going to complain to Koyama.”
Masuda has had a few run ins with that woman; she’s elderly, but not the sweet, grandmotherly type that might make her a pleasant neighbor; rather, she’s bitter and lonely, and tends to bang on the walls if someone so much as sneezes after midnight.
Tegoshi’s brow furrows, and for a moment, he looks adorably confused. “Who?” He asks, but before Masuda can answer, abruptly looks enlightened. “Oh, you mean Mina-chan?” He laughs as Masuda’s eyebrows shoot up at the use of her first name. “Why would she complain? She’s inside playing Super Smash Bros.”
As if on cue, there’s a groan from inside, loud enough that it can be heard over the music, followed by one of Tegoshi’s friends howling in laughter, “Dude, you just lost to a fucking grandma! That’s-OW!”
And then, the unmistakable voice of Tanaka of 4C, “Watch your language, brat!”
“OW! Fine, just stop with the cane, lady!”
Masuda isn’t sure if he should laugh or not. As it is, he just shakes his head while Tegoshi grins. “You’re something else, you know that?” Masuda says to the younger man, but it’s too lighthearted to be anything but a compliment, and Tegoshi seems to take it as such.
“Thanks,” He says airily, and then he rocks on his heels, suddenly looking shy. “Do you want to come in for a bit? It’s a really great party.”
Masuda doesn’t doubt that it is, but parties aren’t really his thing; or at least, parties where he doesn’t really know anyone except for Tegoshi, a few of his friends, and the sour old woman down the hall. He declines politely, and tries to ignore the guilt he feels when Tegoshi actually looks a bit disappointed, wonders why he even feels guilty at all.
But before he can really think about it, Tegoshi is bouncing back, blithely patting Masuda on the shoulder and offering, “Well, maybe next time then,” before bouncing back towards his apartment. Masuda kind of hates the fact that he can tell the skip in his step is forced, but he what he hates more is the fact that he can’t bring himself to speak up about it, because right now he’s not really sure if that’s something he wants to ponder.
In the end, he ends up at the party anyway. Not because he changes his mind, but because Tegoshi takes two steps into his home, closes the front door, and then watches wide-eyed as it promptly pops right off the hinges and falls backwards, and then gives Masuda a pleading, help me sort of look that’s pretty much impossible to deny.
And, well, after he finishes fixing the door, it’s kind of hard to make himself leave, even though the music is still too loud and there are still way too many people, because Tegoshi has latched onto his arm, and Masuda doesn’t think he could handle seeing those eyes upset again. At least not tonight.
~***~
About two weeks after the six month ‘anniversary’ of gaining a neighbor, Masuda comes home late. It’s not often he lets himself be talked into after-work gatherings, but tonight his coworkers had been adamant, and he hadn’t been of the mood to put up much of a fight. It hadn’t been that bad of a get-together, all in all, and Masuda is admittedly a little bit buzzed as he reaches his floor (through the stairs, naturally, because Tegoshi has gone and broken the elevator yet again); not drunk, but looser than usual.
This is probably why, when the first thing he sees is Tegoshi kneeling on the floor in front of his apartment door, fussing with the doorknob with a paperclip, all he does is roll his eyes and repress a grin.
“Lock yourself out again?” He questions idly, pausing in front of his own door to watch.
“Yep,” is Tegoshi’s distracted response, not bothering to tear his eyes from the lock he’s trying to pick. The paperclip suddenly snaps, and Tegoshi pulls away with a pout. “Damn it…”
Masuda feels a strange surge of sympathy for him, all at once. Tegoshi always seems to be getting the short end of the stick. And yes, sometimes it happens in hilariously comical ways, but Masuda thinks that it must get frustrating, sometimes, always having things going wrong in some way or another. It’s kind of amazing that Tegoshi remains as upbeat as he is, all things considered.
And maybe it’s the alcohol, but suddenly he doesn’t think he could quite bear it if he let Tegoshi walk away right now, all dejected and miserable. (Which he isn’t, actually, and okay, maybe Masuda is a little bit more than buzzed.) He can’t quite help himself, then, when he reaches out and catches the younger man by the arm as he passes.
Tegoshi peers at him curiously, but not bothered, and Masuda is suddenly struck by the idea that, for a guy, he’s really quite pretty.
“Um…” He says finally, when he realizes Tegoshi is probably waiting for him to speak. “If you want, you can… crash on my couch tonight. I mean, you know…” Frankly, Masuda doesn’t even really know what he’s getting at; he’s starting to regret that last beer his coworkers had oh so kindly insisted he have. “…if you want.”
Tegoshi stares for a moment, head tilted to the side, like this is a puzzle he can’t figure out, and Masuda suddenly feels a bit nervous. “Really?” Masuda shrugs, and then nods.
The smile he gets is nothing short of dazzling.
~***~
Tegoshi makes a big deal out of his apartment, fawning over every little thing, and it makes Masuda uncomfortable. He’s never really put much thought into it; it’s just his apartment. He lives here when he’s not at work. It’s nothing special.
Tegoshi, apparently, disagrees. “You’ve never invited me inside before,” He informs Masuda, pouting a bit, like this is some kind of great offense. Before Masuda can comment, he goes on, “It’s nice. Not as nice as mine, I mean, but it’s very… Massu.”
He flutters by, apparently with the intent on investigating the kitchenette, leaving Masuda wondering just how much of that was meant to be a compliment.
It takes him a minute to catch the nickname.
“’Massu’?” He echoes blankly, trailing after the other man in time to catch him sorting through his refrigerator like he owns it. Masuda feels a spark of irritation, because honestly, he just finished organizing it. But he doesn’t want to deal with the pout that would follow him saying so, and just keeps his mouth shut.
“Yeah,” Tegoshi answers, unashamed. “’Masuda-kun’ is so formal, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve known each other for six months…”
Masuda hardly thinks so, but again, picks his battles.
Reaching out, he plucks his milk carton from Tegoshi’s grip and tries to dislodge him from his kitchen. “Fine,” he says, sounding just the smallest bit distressed. “Could you just… stop touching things, please?”
Tegoshi stares at him with a mildly bemused expression, but obediently lets himself be shooed towards the living room, falling onto the couch without asking and making himself right at home. “You’re strange, Massu.” He says, and Masuda blinks, isn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Do you always let your neighbors stay with you when they need it?”
“Most of my neighbors don’t make it a habit of locking themselves out of their apartments.”
Tegoshi actually giggles. “I guess I’m just special then.”
That’s one word for it, Masuda thinks to himself, not unkindly, but decides against saying it aloud. Instead, he decides to cut off an awkward moment before it can begin and mumbles, “Well, it’s kind of late. I’ll get you a blanket, and then I think I’m going to head to bed.”
Tegoshi makes no protest, and when Masuda leaves him and wanders back to his bedroom, the younger man is curled up on his sofa watching old American cartoons.
~***~
An hour later and Masuda finally starts to feel himself drift off. It usually doesn’t take so long, and maybe it’s the fact that he has someone unfamiliar in his apartment, but tonight, something keeps him frustratingly awake.
He’s just on the edge of sleep, finally, when there’s a loud cracking sound from the living room, followed by a sudden crash and thud that shakes the whole apartment.
The sound of it snaps him awake almost immediately, and he stumbles out of bed in a dazed sort of panic, tripping over his blankets and stumbling into walls as he goes. Half-expecting some kind of terrible catastrophe - like an explosion, or an earthquake - he’s both relieved and distressed to find, instead, Tegoshi, sitting in the middle of his living room floor, surrounded by the broken remains of his couch.
“Oops,” Tegoshi says, sheepish and actually sounding a little bit embarrassed.
~***~
“Are you sure this is okay?” Despite the question, Tegoshi squirms a bit, burrowing a little bit deeper into the blankets of Masuda’s bed, and Masuda waits until he’s resettled to answer.
“It’s fine,” he mumbles sleepily, and is perfectly content to leave it at that.
Tegoshi is not. “You don’t think it’s kind of awkward?” he asks, and although Masuda has his back facing the younger man, he can tell Tegoshi is peering over his shoulder at him curiously. Inwardly, he thinks that’s a strange question, given who it’s coming from.
“Would you rather sleep on the floor?” And okay, maybe it comes out a little bit cranky, but it’s almost two in the morning. Masuda thinks he’s entitled to be less than pleasant.
Tegoshi just laughs, not at all offended. “No,” He says, tone light. It’s quiet for a few moments after, and Masuda wonders if he’s finally gone to sleep, but just as the thought crosses him mind, Tegoshi murmurs, “I am sorry, you know. About your couch.”
Masuda isn’t sure why, but that touches him, just a bit. Tegoshi is usually so irreverent about the disasters that he causes; to hear him sound sincerely apologetic is strange, but oddly comforting, and any anger he may have been feeling about the incident fades away right then. “Don’t worry about it,” he says mildly. “Go to sleep.”
He never really liked that couch, anyway.
~***~
After that, Tegoshi seems to take it as though he has some kind of written invitation to invade Masuda’s apartment whenever he likes. He invites himself over at all hours, barges in right before dinner and somehow cons his way into staying, and often spends the night without even asking if it’s alright.
At some point, he manages to discover where Masuda hides his spare key, and after that, it becomes commonplace for Masuda to come home from work and find the other man lounging comfortably on the floor in front of the TV, flipping through one of Masuda’s magazines, going through his DVD collection, and generally just making a nuisance of himself.
Despite it all, Masuda lets him get away with it. He lets Tegoshi in every time, never turns him away, and never bothers changing the hiding place for the key.
It’s bizarre, really, almost surreal, that he doesn’t mind this strange invasion. He’s always been a private sort of person, the type that makes friends but never lets them cross certain boundaries. Tegoshi dances across the lines of them all, and Masuda is startled to find that he feels no need to push him away.
Very strange, and not exactly something he’s ready to explore just yet.
Tegoshi, naturally, doesn’t give him that option. Masuda comes home from work one evening, tired and drooping and looking forward to a hot bath, to find his apartment crawling with people he barely knows. Tegoshi is at the center of it, laughing loudly and acting like not a thing is out of place.
And on any other day, Masuda might have let him get away with it. But tonight, he’s exhausted from working a too long shift and all he wants is to collapse and relax for a bit, but there are a bunch of strangers crawling around his apartment, touching things and dragging in dirt and germs and who knows what else, and he won’t be able to do that now, not until he cleans it up and gets them all out.
Tegoshi beams at him when he catches sight of him coming close, but Masuda doesn’t return it. “Massu, you-hey!”
Grabbing him by the wrist without preamble, Masuda half-leads, half-drags him down the hall. Tegoshi squeaks in protest, and his friends watch them go with surprise in their eyes, but no one moves to stop him, and when Masuda tugs him into his bedroom and closes the door behind them, the sudden lack of chatter and music and noise is such a relief that he actually feels himself sag a bit.
“Massu?” Tegoshi asks, eyeing him in a mixture of concern and curiosity. And Masuda wants to be angry at him, he really does, but damn if it’s not hard with Tegoshi looking at him like that.
“Tegoshi,” He finally says after a long moment, weary suddenly, wondering how it is that he’s still standing when all he wants to do is just collapse. “You can’t… do things like this. This is my apartment; you can’t invite people over without asking me first. You can’t just-”
But he doesn’t get to finish, because suddenly Tegoshi is there, pressing his lips against Masuda’s firmly, hands curling around the other man’s neck to hold him in place, and Masuda is so surprised his mouth drops open, just a bit, but that’s enough, because Tegoshi’s tongue presses in and tangles with his. It’s sloppy and intense and not something Masuda’s ever thought about, only he kind of has, he just never really realized it until now.
They part after a moment, but Tegoshi doesn’t let go, keeps him close enough that he can feel Tegoshi’s pounding heartbeat. Or maybe that’s his own, it’s hard to tell. Masuda lets out a slow, shuddering breath he hadn’t realize he’d been holding and fights to keep his arms from circling the slightly smaller man’s waist.
“You’re drunk,” he mumbles instead, still tasting the alcohol, and Tegoshi smiles.
“A little,” he admits, sounding almost shy. It’s cute, and Masuda has to fight back a grin, because he’s never really seen Tegoshi shy before. Not like this, anyway. “But… I’ve kind of wanted to do that for a while now.”
Masuda considers this quietly for a moment, before saying, quietly, “Oh.”
Tegoshi waits, watches him closely, but Masuda says nothing else, and after a moment, he grows impatient, and maybe just a little bit worried. Maybe a little scared, too. “You could say something, you know.”
Masuda looks contemplative for a moment, finally saying, very seriously, “Don’t invite people over to my apartment again without asking me first, okay? I don’t like it.”
Tegoshi gapes, incredulous. “You can’t be serio-”
Masuda cuts him off, apparently deciding it would be a good idea to kiss him again, but Tegoshi doesn’t seem to mind. The party goes on without them.
~***~
Nothing really changes after that, except for the fact that Masuda suddenly finds himself being included in just about everything Tegoshi does. He’s no longer just a neighbor, but a friend, and Tegoshi pulls him into his not-so-little social circle with a certain amount of tenacious determination that’s just as endearing as it is frustrating.
Admittedly, this isn’t really all that different from the way it had been before, but now Masuda doesn’t have any pretext to turn him down, not when Tegoshi is now a sort-of-something-there-between-them friend.
It’s not that bad, really. Tegoshi seems to know everyone, and eventually, by proxy, Masuda does too.
There’s Yamapi and Ryo, and Shige too, who is apparently good friends with Koyama and happens to be the reason Tegoshi was allowed to move in initially. Then there’s Jin, who Tegoshi seems to have the strangest love-hate relationship that Masuda has ever heard of. Jin’s group, who seem more like rivals than actual friends half the time, but are never anything but doting where Tegoshi is concerned, and Ryo’s other group, who have apparently nickname themselves Eight, although Masuda doesn’t understand why, seeing as there are only seven of them.
The list goes on, and stretches into some of the most bizarre, far-reaching areas. Like Kusano, who spends more time in America than in Japan and sends ridiculous text messages at strange hours in the early morning. Or Johnny Kitagawa - yes, that Johnny Kitagawa, and Masuda’s not entirely sure he wants to know how that friendship came about.
Out of all of them, Masuda likes Shige the best. (Well, him and Nakamaru, but he doesn’t get to see Nakamaru as much as he’d like, since their schedules never seem to overlap well.)
Shige is calm and intelligent, startlingly normal given Tegoshi’s usual standards for friends. He’s sensible and friendly enough, if a bit sarcastic, and he doesn’t tease Masuda over his taste in clothes or his tendency to spout strange facts at weird moments or his slightly unhealthy adoration of food like the rest of Tegoshi’s friends do. He’s a stable, solid presence in a world that, for Masuda, has been rapidly spinning out of control.
The first time they go out together, just the two of them, it isn’t awkward at all. Instead, Masuda orders tea and indulges in a chocolate chip cookie (“Fresh baked,” the waitress says with a flirty wink) while Shige sticks with coffee. They sip their respective drinks quietly, people watch, and make small talk about unimportant things, and it feels nice and unhurried and steady.
Or at least it does until Shige sets down his cup, rests his elbows on the table between them, and says, point blank, “So, what’s up with you and Tegoshi?”
And then any sense of “peace” comes crashing down around his ears rather violently.
“Um…” He says, and then takes a rather large bite of his cookie, because he really doesn’t want to talk about it. It isn’t complicated, exactly, but he’s still not entirely sure what he thinks about Tegoshi just yet, and the fact that they occasionally trade kisses when no one else is around hasn’t made it any easier.
The fact that Tegoshi can’t go two seconds without breaking something is also a bit of a concern.
Shige eyes him critically for a moment, in a way that makes Masuda want to squirm, before he sighs and goes back to his coffee. “Look,” He says a sip later. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that he’s kind of… accident prone.”
It’s not exactly a hard thing to miss. Masuda nods. Shige nods back, although Masuda suspects it’s more to himself.
“I’m just…” He pauses, sighs, and slouches a bit. Masuda suddenly has a feeling that he’s about to be leveled with. “I’m worried. We all are. Tegoshi’s… a brat, but he’s our brat, and… he’s a lot more sensitive than he likes people to know.” Shige looks sad, saying this, like it’s a bad train of thought that he doesn’t want to follow. “He tries hard, to not let it bother him. But things don’t often go right for him. And that… sometimes it takes a toll.”
There’s a pause, where Shige collects his thoughts, considers what to say next, and Masuda takes a moment to turn his words around in his head, thinking them over carefully. When Shige speaks next, it’s with careful precision.
“He likes you. A lot.” It’s blunt, point blank, and Masuda resists the urge to flinch away. “And I… we… don’t want to see him hurt.” There’s a carefully veiled threat there, one that it takes Masuda a moment to catch, but when he does, he almost, almost smiles. He’s getting the official welcome to the family speech, he realizes, and that, somehow, makes him feel significantly lighter.
“I think,” he says after a long moment, thinking it over carefully, realizing that maybe this strange feeling of being out of control isn’t quite as frightening as he maybe thought at first. Different, but not in a bad way, “that I might like him too.”
For a brief instant, he wonders if that was the wrong answer, because Shige continues to look at him firmly, like he’s looking for something.
But then he smiles suddenly, relaxes back into his seat like he’s relieved. “Good,” he says, signaling the waitress for a refill, “because I like you. Tegoshi’s a lot less clumsy when you’re around.”
He actually laughs at Masuda’s look of disbelief. “Less?”
“Oh yeah,” Shige grins, only it’s soft, fond. “He pays more attention, and he tries to be more careful. I think he’s afraid of scaring you off.”
The conversation moves on from there, onto more lighthearted topics that don’t leave Masuda near as uncomfortable, but that comment sticks with him for weeks after, weighing heavily on him for reasons he can’t understand.
~***~
One evening, Masuda comes home to find Tegoshi's door open and several large men in yellow jackets and familiar hats mulling about. There are thick, dark plumes of smoke wafting out of the apartment, and a small crowd had gathered to watch as the firemen move from place to place, muttering in firemen jargon as they go.
Masuda feels his chest seize up at the realization that there are firefighters in Tegoshi's apartment, and his heart only settles when he catches sight of a familiar profile at the front of the crowd.
"What happened?" he asks, and Tegoshi peers at him for a moment in silent greeting before answering.
"I tried to make toast," he says, like the connection between that and the fire brigade romping through his apartment should be obvious. When it becomes apparent that it's not, at least to Masuda, he adds helpfully, "Toasters don't like me."
Masuda thinks of the cellphone incident last week, the bizarre television mishap the week before, and the smoldering, overheated laptop that they'd had to chuck out a window for fear of it exploding, and wonders if any form of technology likes Tegoshi.
The firemen tromp out. One of them is carrying a very charred rendition of what Masuda assumes was Tegoshi's toaster. Tegoshi seems very sad to see it go.
The Captain of the squad comes out to see them, and he addresses Tegoshi casually, “The fire’s out, and we managed to save your counter, but you shouldn’t go in for a while. At least until the smoke airs out.” They talk a bit more, and then the Captain moves to leave, patting Tegoshi on the shoulder as he passes.
"See you next time, Tegoshi," he says amicably, his tone familiar, and Masuda wonders just how many times this has happened.
Tegoshi nods and waves, distracted. "Bye, Ohno-san. Thanks."
The crowd starts to disperse, apparently bored now that they know the building isn’t actually burning down. Eventually only Masuda and Tegoshi are left, both watching Tegoshi’s doorway. Tegoshi is pouting, arms crossed, looking like he’s maybe a little bit lost on what to do next. When the pout starts to fade, replaced by a sly sort of grin, Masuda doesn’t even have to ask to know what he’s think, and rolls his eyes with a sigh.
“Come on,” he says, motioning Tegoshi to follow him, heading for his own apartment, and Tegoshi grins.
“Thanks Massu!” He chirrups, and Masuda feels oddly pleased with himself.
~***~
As it turns out, neither of them have eaten, so Masuda fixes them something simple while Tegoshi watches from island counter, making small talk in an effort at easing the boredom. It’s not unpleasant; in fact, it’s rather comfortable, Masuda finds, talking with Tegoshi about little things, even if the younger man does do most of the talking.
“So, have you thought about it at all?” Tegoshi suddenly says, and Masuda squints at the meat he has cooking in a pan.
“About what?”
Tegoshi laughs. “Where you’re taking me on our first date, silly.” He says it so casually, like he doesn’t even notice that Masuda chokes on nothing and abruptly breaks into a coughing fit. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or expensive, you know. I’m okay with something that’s not upscale. And of course, family restaurants usually have better atmosphere, anyway.”
“Of course,” Masuda echoes numbly.
“Either way, I don’t want you spending too much money. It’s just a first date, after all. We can always-”
Tegoshi cuts off suddenly with a startled cry, and before Masuda can turn around, there’s the sound of wood splintering, something like marble shattering, and a loud thump. When he does turn to face it, he finds half of his counter top missing, along with his houseguest.
“Tegoshi?!” Abandoning the stove, he hurries around to the other side, and then breathes a heavy sigh of relief. Tegoshi is there, looking relatively unscathed, if shocked. The same cannot be said for his stool, which is scattered around his floor in many tiny wooden fragments. The missing part of his counter is there too, although that’s just in one big, broken-off piece.
In retrospect, Masuda will think it strange, but at that moment, he doesn’t care about the stool or counter. He cares about Tegoshi, who is sitting very still, staring wide-eyed at the mess and actually looking distressed about it, something Masuda has never seen before.
“Are you okay?” Tegoshi nods stiffly, and Masuda goes to kneel down beside him.
“Massu… I…” he stops, trailing off, bites his lower lip and looks anywhere but Masuda. “I’m sorry.” And somehow, it sounds like he’s apologizing for more than just the counter and stool. “It seems like every time I’m here, I end up breaking something.”
Masuda wants to protest that; Tegoshi doesn’t always break things. Sometimes he gets them locked in the bathroom or the closet, after all. One memorable time he’d even managed to get them stuck in the pantry, and boy had that been fun. And then there was the time that Masuda is almost positive they were abducted by aliens…
Actually, thinking about it, Masuda thinks maybe he shouldn’t mention any of this; it might just make it worse.
Instead, he thinks back, recalls his conversation with Shige and the other man’s words. He’s a lot more sensitive than he likes people to know. He’s never seen it before now; Tegoshi has never been someone that Masuda had imagined as insecure. Masuda hadn’t really believed it until that moment, seeing it for himself.
Something occurs to him then, something that hadn’t really crossed his mind until just now, but suddenly seems horribly important, looking at Tegoshi’s downcast eyes and saddened expression.
“Has it always been like this?” Masuda asks, and when Tegoshi peers up to meet his, he motions absently at the broken stool and counter.
“Oh,” Tegoshi says, frowning, and for a moment he looks like he’s honestly thinking about it. Absently, he fiddles with a broken sliver of wood, and Masuda wants to warn him against splinters. “I guess so,” he admits finally, and when he glances back at Masuda, he looks startlingly sad. “My mother… she used to say I was unlucky, when I was little. I was always causing trouble for her. So…” He shrugs. “I guess it has always been this way.”
Masuda can’t help but think that that’s a terrible thing to say to a child. But he doesn’t say as much, instead focusing on Tegoshi’s expression. He doesn’t look upset, or even really bothered by it. Instead, there’s something akin to stubbornness there, defiance, and it takes Masuda a moment to read it properly.
“You don’t think so,” He finally says, not a question, but a simple statement.
Tegoshi smiles at him. “How can I?” He questions rhetorically, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “Good things happen to me all the time,” He looks at Masuda here pointedly, like he’s trying to say something without saying it, and Masuda feels his face warm up at the implication, but can’t help but smile back.
The moment only lasts a few precious seconds, however, because after just a brief moment, Tegoshi’s eyes widen and he shrieks, “Massu, the food!” just as the stove abruptly bursts into flames.
~***~
They manage to save the stove, just barely, but the food is rendered inedible. Masuda orders takeout for them, and when it arrives, they sit together on the floor where Masuda’s couch had once been, eating out of the carton even though Masuda still thinks it’s disgusting and uncivilized. As they trade the boxes back and forth between them, their fingers brush and linger, and every so often their eyes meet. They smile shyly with matching blushes and look away, but never for very long.
Masuda thinks about the first day they met, and how they’d done exactly this, only then as strangers. He remembers about the months that have followed, and smiles into his food.
“What are you thinking about, Massu?” Tegoshi asks, sifting through the carton in hand with his chopsticks, peering at him curiously through his bangs, and Masuda blushes and looks away nervously. Apparently that gives him away, however, because Tegoshi laughs in delight, his whole face lighting up in a way that makes Masuda think that he really should be kissing him.
So he does.
And if the light bulb in the overhead lamp happens to shatter abruptly and for no reason while they’re busy, well, Masuda doesn’t notice.
~omake~
“We are not having sex in my bed.”
Tegoshi pulls away from Masuda with a firm pout. “Why not?” He demands, crossing his arms and looking irritated by this sudden rule.
Masuda fixes him with a stern look. “Because I like my bed, and if we’re going to break something having sex, I’d rather it not be that.” He loves Tegoshi, he really does, but that’s pushing it.
“But Massu-”
“No.”
“But-”
“No, Yuya. And if you want this at all, you’ll stop asking.”
Tegoshi pouts even harder, but doesn’t say anything. Masuda takes this as consent to continue from where they left off.
(In the end, they do make it to the bed. But not before breaking Masuda’s table and rendering two of his chairs completely unusable.)
(It was worth it.)
~END~