Title: Chirarizumu [2/3]
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi (mentioned Koyama/Kato)
Rating: PG-13 (mild language, general weirdness)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He’s screwed. And the worst part is, he thinks he might be looking forward to it.
A/N: X.x This chapter was ridiculously hard to proofread. Just... seriously. I think I lost a couple of my marbles trying to get through it. If you happen to see them, let me know please? Happy reading :3
x
Part One x
It’s late the next morning when Tegoshi finally stumbles out of bed, but he isn’t particularly bothered by his late start, since he doesn’t have anything planned and no classes to attend.
Kato, one of his roommates, is in the kitchen when he wanders in, sleepily rubbing his eyes and fighting back yawns. If he’s completely honest, he would have preferred it to be Koyama; he and Kato are friendly, but Kato has a tendency to pick on him a bit. He claims it’s because everyone else spoils Tegoshi, and therefore it falls on him to keep the balance in check, but really, Tegoshi thinks he just enjoys getting a rile out of his junior.
“Morning,” he mumbles tiredly, falling into one of the stools that sit around the island counter separating the kitchen from the living room. Kato eyes him with an amused smirk.
“Afternoon, actually. It’s almost one,” he tells Tegoshi, quirking an eyebrow. “Late night?”
Tegoshi just shakes his head, lips turning down as he remembers the night before, and the dream he’d had. The very arousing, very embarrassing dream. Letting out a quiet groan, he buries his face into his arms to hide his blush. “Couldn’t sleep.” He answers, and really, it’s only half a lie.
Kato frowns, peers down at Tegoshi, and after a moment turns to the cabinet and pulls out a clean mug, fills it with fresh coffee and passes it to the younger. “Everything okay?”
Tegoshi moans in gratitude, taking it in both hands like it’s something sacred. He makes a noncommittal noise to the question and instead drains half of the warm drink down in one sip, grimacing as it burns his tongue but not complaining. Content now that he’s replenished his need for caffeine, he glances at Kato curiously, “Ne, where’s Keii-chan?”
Kato shrugs. “Work. He got called in early this morning.” He sounds vaguely disgruntled by this, and Tegoshi grins knowingly, which only makes Kato scowl harder. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” But really, he didn’t have to. And it’s not like he minds, anyway; if he did, he wouldn’t have let them move in with him in the first place. Personally, he thinks it’s kind of cute; Koyama and Kato make a surprisingly good couple, for all their differences, and Tegoshi sometimes secretly likes to think of them as the parents he never really got to have. He watches, amused, as Kato tries to hide the blush that’s starting to color his cheeks and neck, and finds himself taken over by a moment of impulsiveness. “Hey, Shige?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever met someone that you kind of… instantly liked?” Tegoshi frowns, not sure if that’s the right way to phrase it. He’s had Masuda on his mind all night, can’t get his face and voice and smile out of his head. ‘Like’ seems a little bit too… soft for what he’s feeling.
Kato looks a bit surprised by the question, and raises an eyebrow questioningly. “You mean, like… wanted?”
Tegoshi shakes his head. “No, I mean…” He stops, frowns, and then drops his forehead into his hands in frustration. “I don’t know what I mean.”
But he’s in luck, because Kato seems to understand, leaning back against the counter with a thoughtful expression that Tegoshi thinks makes him look actually somewhat attractive. “I think I do.” The older offers, tapping his chin consideringly. “And yes, I have. Once, anyway.”
Tegoshi peeks up at him, interested. “Keii-chan?” He guesses. He’s surprised when Kato shakes his head.
“Actually, no,” Tegoshi is curious, it’s obvious by the look on his face, and Kato is smart enough to know that he can’t just dangle something like that in front of someone like Tegoshi and then expect to walk away without spilling his life story, so he sighs in a very put-upon manner and crosses his arms over his chest. “It was in high school. He was in my homeroom; sat right in front of me.” He grins, oddly amused by it now. “I spent most of my junior year staring at the back of his head, hoping he’d notice.”
Tegoshi leans forward, listening intently. “What happened?”
Kato just shrugs. “He moved away at the end of the year; to America, I think. We’d only ever talked once, and that was when we met, so I didn’t find out about it until he was already gone.” Tegoshi thinks he looks vaguely disappointed, maybe a little regretful. It bothers the younger, the idea that Kato was in love with someone other than Koyama. To him, the two of them are made for each other. He doesn’t like the idea of the either of them with anyone but each other.
“What about Keii-chan?”
Kato actually smiles here, and it’s fond; happy. “Keii and I actually didn’t get along too well when we first met.” He laughs at Tegoshi’s scandalized expression. “I thought he was a little too strange for my taste, honestly.”
Tegoshi tilts his head curiously. “Then what changed?”
The older is quiet for a moment, thinking, and then finally shrugs. “I’m not really sure,” he admits. “At first I thought he was annoying, but he won me over eventually, and then we were friends.” Another smile, and Tegoshi recognizes it as the one Kato always has when he recalls something about Koyama that he likes. “And then one day, he was just… special.”
Tegoshi hums quietly to himself, considering what was said, thinking it over in his mind. “…do you ever wonder if it would have been better, though? I mean if you’d tried to say something when you were in high school.” If he’d done that, Kato wouldn’t have met Koyama, probably. Or at least wouldn’t have gotten together with him.
Kato looks vaguely troubled by the idea. “I’m not sure if you can really compare it, Tegoshi.” At Tegoshi’s questioning look, he goes on, “I never really knew him. I mean, yeah, there was something there, and it could have been good, I guess. But I never tried, and I might regret it, but I wouldn’t change it.” He smiles, “I’m happy with Keii.”
Tegoshi’s not sure if that really helps him or not, but it’s a nice enough thought that he’s willing to accept it for the time being. Kato probably thinks he’s a little bit off in the head now, after that particular line of questioning, but he’s too polite to comment. Tegoshi is grateful, because he doesn’t know what he’d say if asked, and when Koyama comes home that night and he catches him and Kato nuzzling in the hallway, he just smiles and for once doesn’t tease them mercilessly like he usually would.
An eye for an eye, after all.
~***~
Sunday comes around faster than he’d like, and before Tegoshi knows it, he’s back in the skirt -a pretty, knee length one in red this time-and wig, making his way down the hall to his mother’s room. Much to his displeasure, he has yet to find a place for Masuda, or the bizarre and somewhat worrying feelings the nurse seems to inspire in him. That isn’t to say that he hasn’t tried, because he has, to the point of distraction. But no matter what he does, he just can’t make sense of it.
He supposes that it might just be that this is something that can’t be neatly boxed away, but that’s not exactly an appealing thought. He’s learned over the years that if he can analyze something, dissect it down to the absolute most basic stage, he can make sense of it, sort it away, and move on. It’s one of the reasons why he decided to study psychology.
But this… this he can’t make sense of. It’s too much, too strong, even now, a week later. It’s dizzying and confusing and just thinking about it makes him feel exposed and vulnerable, which isn’t always a bad thing, but this time, he thinks it might be.
He hopes against hope that Masuda isn’t working today, or that at least his shift has him somewhere on the opposite side of the building. He wishes he could cut the visit short, just to avoid the chance of encountering him, but he knows that his mother looks forward to these days, and he doesn’t quite have the heart to deprive her of them just because he’s a little flustered by her newest nurse.
Luck isn’t with him today, because halfway through their visit, there’s a knock on his mother’s door, and a few seconds later Masuda peeks in, smiling and friendly and just like Tegoshi remembers him being the Sunday before. His eyes light up when they land on Tegoshi, his smile widening, and despite his earlier reservations and confusion and downright frustration, Tegoshi smiles back.
Masuda only stays for a few moments -just long enough to deliver Tegoshi’s mother’s medication-but he hesitates momentarily beside where Tegoshi sits, brushes his hand across Tegoshi’s shoulder gently. It’s a brief thing, barely there, but it still sends a shiver down Tegoshi’s spine, leaves his skin tingling beneath the sleeve of his blouse. He finds himself distracted after that, even when Masuda leaves the room, not fully focusing on the conversation, his mind instead on the young man that has effectively managed to capture his attention.
The visit is over quickly, quicker than usual, and before long he’s saying goodbye to his mother, giving her a quick hug, waving from the doorway before stepping out.
He’s somehow unsurprised when he finds Masuda there, waiting beside the door, leaning against the wall while attempting to look casual, although his apprehensive shifting gives him away. He straightens up when he notices Tegoshi, smiling happily but nervously, picking absently at the cuff of his sleeve as he scoots closer to where Tegoshi waits.
“Hey,” he grins, looking adorably shy, and Tegoshi’s lips quirk up at the sight. Masuda stuffs his hands into his pockets, takes them out again, rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, and Tegoshi waits patiently, know he has something to say. “Listen… do you… maybe want to get a coffee or something?”
It’s probably the sweetest invitation for a date that Tegoshi has ever had. And he gets them fairly often, as Yuya and as Yuuko. He usually accepts the ones he gets as Yuya, but he always turns down Yuuko’s; it would be too complicated, too personal, too difficult to explain. He doesn’t want to chance the heartbreak it would inevitably lead to.
And this should be no different. Say no, his mind hisses sternly, warningly, turn him down, say no, no, no.
“Sure,” he hears himself say instead. Inwardly, he’s shrieking at himself, appalled at his own idiocy, but all of that is drowned out when Masuda gives him the widest grin yet and eagerly moves to exchange numbers.
~***~
Tegoshi agrees to meet Masuda in the middle of next week, Wednesday, because it’s the only day that Masuda has off from work and Tegoshi can sneak out without his roommates knowing. Masuda gives him the name of a small, secluded café in a less traversed area of town, and tells him shyly, his voice quiet over the phone, that he’s looking forward to seeing him again.
Tegoshi smiles and agrees without thinking.
On Wednesday, he sits in front of his closet for two hours, trying to decide on what to wear. The small alcove is neat and orderly, out of place in his otherwise cluttered room, and it’s split nearly down the middle. On the right side are jeans and slacks, t-shirts and button downs, masculine but appealing; on the left are skirts, long and short, blouses made out of soft, delicate material, feminine and pretty. He stares into it blankly, occasionally peering over his shoulder at the mirror on the vanity near his bed, inwardly debating, thinking, considering.
It would be so easy to just grab something from the right side; a pair of jeans, something form fitting, maybe. He could stop this before it got out of hand, tell Masuda the truth, save them both the possible heartache.
But he’s never been with someone like Masuda before; he’s never had someone like Masuda be interested in him before. He usually attracts a rougher type; a less than pleasant crowd that Koyama and Kato typically scowl at when mentioned. And even with them, it’s rarely a relationship; sex, yes, but never anything emotional. He’d let himself get picked up at one of his frequented clubs, let them take him out for a bit, spoil him if they wanted, but it never goes passed that. No strings; strings make things complicated.
But Masuda is different. He’s sweet and friendly with bright, unhaunted eyes and a pleasant laugh. He asked Tegoshi out for coffee, for heaven’s sake! Not for dinner, where they might flirt boldly and leave together; not for a movie, where there would be sneaked kisses in a back row and maybe, maybe something a little bit more risqué; for coffee, where they’d talk and get to know each other. It would be personal.
Well, he corrects in his mind, personal for Yuuko, anyway.
Inwardly loathing himself, he quickly grabs something from the left side. He hates the idea of lying to Masuda, but he wants this, even if just for a while; wants the chance to experience something normal, even if it’s based on a lie.
It’s not like it will last, anyway. Good things never do. Not for him, anyway.
~***~
Masuda is already there when Tegoshi arrives, sitting at a table-for-two beside a large glass window. He looks bored, has lined up all of the cream and sugar packets in front of him, is playing with a spoon like a child might. That, combined with what he’s wearing -a bizarre pink and yellow shirt with printed speech bubbles and a pair of camouflage shorts-make for a surprisingly endearing image.
He brightens up the instant he spots Tegoshi, and the sight of it makes Tegoshi smile despite his inward trepidation. They order together, a pair of coffees, and agree to split an order of fries -although Masuda warns him that he probably won’t get to eat too many of them-and then they talk.
Tegoshi is surprised at how easy it is to talk to Masuda, or more correctly, how easy it is to communicate with him. Masuda is friendly and open; a little on the quiet side maybe, but he answers and asks questions at just the right pace that Tegoshi knows he’s paying attention; that he’s interested. Tegoshi learns that Masuda is only a year older than him; that he attended a special high school designed to fast track students into a medical career; that he originally wanted to be a teacher, but went into nursing after his own mother was struck by an early case of Alzheimer’s.
He learns other things, too; inconsequential, little things that help to piece together a larger picture of who Masuda is beneath the scrubs and nametag. His favorite color is yellow, he likes to shop in his spare time, and he’s had the same hair style ever since he was in junior high.
And it’s fun. Tegoshi is startled by that, but he finds that he really enjoys it. He and Masuda are a good match; they get along well, spend the entire time chatting comfortably, like they’d know each other for years. Tegoshi isn’t used to that; he’s not one for idle chit chat, usually. He prefers action; motion; touch. But with Masuda, it’s pleasant, not boring.
The date is only supposed to last an hour or two, but instead they end up staying there until after nine, when the café closes and they have to leave. It’s pitch black when they wander out, and Tegoshi frowns, surprised that he hadn’t noticed the time until just now.
“Do you need a ride?” Masuda asks, looking concerned.
Tegoshi frowns, considering. He took the subway earlier, the traffic during midday too bad to even consider taking his car, but the idea of taking it home at this hour is unsettling. After a moment, he nods, smiling when Masuda gives him a grin and offers his arm.
The drive is quiet. Masuda lets Tegoshi play with the radio until he finds something he likes, smiles fondly when he sings along happily. It doesn’t take too long to reach Tegoshi’s apartment complex, but when they finally pull up to the curb outside of the right building, they spend a few minutes afterwards just sitting there comfortably. Masuda hesitates, Tegoshi waits, and finally, the older of the two speaks up.
“Ne, Yuuko-chan…” Tegoshi stiffens at the sound of that name, shoulders going board-straight. Masuda notices his sudden discomfort, glances at Tegoshi in concern. “…is something wrong?”
Tegoshi bites his lower lips, avoids Masuda’s eyes. “Could you… not call me that?”
Masuda blinks, and for a moment, he looks surprised and, oddly enough, a bit embarrassed. “Oh…” he responds, and Tegoshi realizes that it’s disappointment that he hears in the older’s voice. “Sorry. I just thought…”
Tegoshi realizes with a start that Masuda has misunderstood him completely. “No, no!” He leans forward, just enough so that his shoulder bumps against Masuda’s. “It’s not that.” Truthfully, it doesn’t bother him, the idea of Masuda using his first name. It’s kind of nice, really. But… “I just… don’t like that name very much.”
“Oh…” Masuda repeats, but Tegoshi is relieved to find that he sounds less upset now, more amused. “Then… what should I call you?”
Yuya, he wants to say. Call me Yuya.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles, somewhat tightly, lets his fingers brush against Masuda’s gently. “You’ll figure something out,” he tells him, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to slip out of the car and make his way to the front door, pausing just outside to wave, chuckling quietly to himself when Masuda waits until he’s inside before finally driving off.
~***~
Tegoshi’s apartment is on the third floor, but the elevator only works half the time, so he ends up taking the stairs. The door is unlocked when he reaches it, which surprises Tegoshi, since Kato is usually firm about leaving it locked unless they’re expecting someone. He and Koyama are likely home by now, and it makes Tegoshi a bit nervous; he’d been hoping to beat them back. He hadn’t expected his outing with Masuda to last this long.
When he finally yanks open the door and steps inside, he hears Kato’s voice first and foremost, loud even out in the entrance hall. He’s on the phone, Tegoshi assumes, and he sounds a bit worried. Stripping of his shoes, Tegoshi inches further in.
He finds his two roommates in the living room. Kato is standing near the glass door leading out to the balcony, his cellphone plastered to his ear, brow furrowed. Koyama is pacing the floor, still in his work clothes, looking frantic. Tegoshi hesitates in the doorway, wonders what’s going on, before finally clearing his throat. Both Koyama and Kato look up, and for a moment, the two of them look stunned. Kato lets out a shaky breath, mumbles into the phone, “Never mind, he’s here,” and then snaps it shut. Koyama stares at him for a grand total of three seconds, and then suddenly he’s there, clutching at Tegoshi so tightly that the younger can barely breathe.
“Thank God you’re okay!” Koyama half-wails, sounding incredibly relived. Tegoshi chokes something out, but is ignored. He yelps when Koyama starts shaking him. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?! No one knew where you were and you weren’t answering your cellphone!”
Kato comes up behind them, watching with narrowed eyes. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Koyama abruptly stops, pulls away from Tegoshi enough to get a good look at him, and Tegoshi flushes awkwardly under their eyes. “I thought you only visited your mother on Sundays,” Koyama says, sounding perplexed, eyeing the skirt and wig curiously. Behind him, Kato folds his arms over his chest and gives Tegoshi a stern glance.
Tegoshi fidgets, uncomfortable, and finally admits, “I… wasn’t visiting my mother.”
“Then what’s with the skirt?”
Tegoshi goes red, nervous suddenly, bites his lower lip. Koyama still has him by the shoulders, his grip tight, and Tegoshi kind of wishes he’d let go now, or at least loosen his fingers up a bit. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he knows that Koyama and Kato won’t let it go; if he doesn’t tell them, then they’ll just start snooping around. Swallowing his pride (or whatever he has left of it), he sighs, and mumbles quietly, “I kind of had a… date.”
They stare at him blankly for a long moment, and Tegoshi squirms under the attention. Kato gets it first, and his expression morphs into one that’s almost disappointed, pitying. “Tegoshi, you didn’t-“
“I know, I know!” Tegoshi wriggles out of Koyama’s grip, suddenly feeling very trapped; cornered. “I just… I met him at the hospital, okay?” He feels like he wants to go find a rock somewhere to crawl under. He doesn’t want to talk about this; if he doesn’t talk about it out loud, he can at least pretend that it’s perfectly normal. “He asked me out. I…” He shrugs, helpless, not knowing how to explain himself, or the situation for that matter.
But Koyama and Kato know him well enough, maybe better than he knows himself, and the two trade a concerned look before Koyama steps closer and drapes an arm around Tegoshi’s shoulders, gently, supportive. Tegoshi makes a tiny, sad little noise from the back of his throat and leans into the older man, suddenly tired and drained.
“You know you’re going to have to tell him, right?” Kato says, reaching up to gently remove the wig. Tegoshi nods unhappily against Koyama’s shoulder. “You can’t just lie to him about something like this.”
“I know,” He mumbles, sounding and feeling a little bit heartbroken. “I will.”
Eventually, he adds in his mind. Soon. Dragging it out won’t be good for anyone, even if it means he’ll have to ruin something that could be absolutely wonderful. The sooner he does it, the better off they’ll be.
He wonders, if he keeps telling himself that, whether or not he’ll be able to convince himself that it’s true.