[FIC] NewS - Chirarizumu [3/3]
Title: Chirarizumu [3/3]
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: Last chapter T~T For Misa, because she's been hounding me over it XD
x Part One x Part Two x
As it turns out, ‘soon’ is not within the next month, nor the month after that. Tegoshi and Masuda keep seeing each other, once or twice a week at most, quiet dates that are unlike anything Tegoshi has ever experienced. He supposes it has something to do with Yuuko; Masuda is, after all, courting him like he would a girl. (Tegoshi wonders if it would be any different if he knew the truth, but he usually puts a stop to that train of thought before it can go any farther, because it reminds him rather forcefully that he’s still lying to Masuda, and that makes him uncomfortable.)
They share their first kiss almost two weeks to the day after they start dating. It’s sweet and chaste and not really all that passionate, but Tegoshi giggles when they part and Masuda blushes -because he hadn’t really been planning on kissing “her”, he admits later-and they’re both relatively satisfied with it; at least enough that decide to do it again. And again. And a few dozen times after that, too.
By the time the first month has passed, Tegoshi is more than ready to take things a step further. Masuda is still a bit shy, still blushes when they sneak kisses from across a table or in the hallway of the hospital before Tegoshi leaves. But he’s eager too, Tegoshi can tell, from the way his hands wander occasionally, drifting down his side to rest on his hip when they’re walking, the way his breath hitches when Tegoshi finally makes himself pull away.
And that makes it harder to keep holding back, knowing that Masuda wants him too. Or at least he wants Yuuko.
By the time the third month comes around, Tegoshi is fairly certain he’s going to go insane. He’s not a slut by any means, but he does enjoy a rather healthy sexual lifestyle, one that has come to a grinding halt since he began seeing Masuda. And while that bothers him quite a bit -he kind of seriously misses sex-he’s surprised to find that it’s not quite as earth shattering as it might have been a few months ago.
Because even without sex, he’s still happier with Masuda than he has been with anyone before. Masuda treats him like he’s special; someone to be doted on and adored and, well… loved. It’s not something Tegoshi is used to, but it’s nice, having someone care so much.
But still… sex. He really, really misses sex.
~***~
A week and a half into the third month, Tegoshi comes home in something of a bad mood. He’s spent the last few hours out and about with Masuda, and while it had been fun and just as wonderful as every date prior, his frustration level is at its peak.
He stumbles inside, kicks off his shoes lazily -he’s already changed out of Yuuko’s outfit, stealing a moment in, of all places, a utility closet-- and runs a hand through his hair as he wanders towards the living room. Kato is there, settled on the couch, reading a novel or textbook or something, and he barely even glances up from it when Tegoshi wanders over and collapses face first beside him. Instead, he flips the page and comments, somewhat dryly, “I take it you had fun.”
Tegoshi mumbles something darkly under his breath, not appreciating the sarcasm, and raises his voice just loud enough to growl, “Shut up.”
Kato lifts an eyebrow, glances at the younger from over the top of his book. “Touchy,” he comments airily, and Tegoshi lifts his head just enough off the couch cushions to glare at him.
“Shige,” he starts, voice low, “I haven’t had sex in three months. Back off, or you’re going to lose a limb.”
The older man frowns, marks his place in his book with his index finger and looks at Tegoshi properly. “Isn’t your flavor of the month supposed to take care of that?” He pulls back a bit at the surprisingly fierce look Tegoshi gives him in response.
“I’m not going to cheat on Taka!”
He’s about to go further, but he’s interrupted by a loud noise from the kitchen, and a few seconds later Koyama steps out in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt that Tegoshi is pretty sure belongs to Kato. “I think he was talking about ‘Taka’, Tego.” The eldest points out, shuffling over the couch. “What’s wrong? Trouble in paradise?”
Tegoshi pouts slightly, shakes his head. “No,” He mumbles, ducking his head somewhat nervously, not liking the line that this conversation happens to be toeing across, “Everything’s fine.” Koyama nudges his shoulder, and he obediently sits up and scoots down the couch to make room for him. Kato grumbles unhappily at being jostled as Tegoshi squeezes in beside him, but doesn’t complain about it.
“Then why do you have something to complain about?”
Shrugging rather limply, Tegoshi squirms uncomfortably. “We’re just… not there yet,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. He pointedly avoids meeting either Koyama or Kato’s eyes.
Kato watches him suspiciously, eyes narrowed, a hint of realization touching the edge of his mind. “It’s not like you to take things slow,” he comments, seemingly casual. Tegoshi fidgets, shrugs weakly. “Tegoshi.” Kato’s voice is hard, and when Tegoshi makes no move to answer him, he gets all the answer he needs. “You did tell him, didn’t you?” Again, no response. “Tegoshi!”
“I’m sorry, okay?!” He finally bursts, cringing at the look at both Kato and Koyama send him.
“Tego, you’ve been seeing him for months!” Koyama stares at him, incredulous. “And he still thinks you’re…” He waves a hand vaguely, but it isn’t hard to guess what he’s getting at. Tegoshi nods, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, and Koyama groans, pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Tegoshi…” But he stops, unable to think of anything to say.
Kato, however, isn’t quite as limited. “I don’t get it,” he grumbles, scowling at Tegoshi, who is doing his best to look pathetic. Really, he should know by now that that look doesn’t work on Kato. “I don’t see why you’re keeping it a secret.” Tegoshi gives him a strange look, and the older goes on, “I mean, best case scenario: he turns out to be bi and you two can jump each other and be done with it. Worst case, he drops you and you can go find someone else to fuck you senseless.” He shrugs, attention going back to his book. “It’s a win-win for you, isn’t it?”
He misses the look that Tegoshi gives him -infuriated, angry, upset-but he doesn’t miss the way the younger scrambles off the couch, throws him one last dirty look, before storming off. The sound of a door slamming violently follows his departure, and Kato stares after him, dumbfounded.
“…what?” He looks to Koyama, who is giving him an unimpressed look. “What’d I say?”
Koyama sighs, reaches out to pat Kato’s shoulder. “Shige, I love you,” he says, sounding exasperated. “But sometimes you’re an insensitive idiot.”
Kato stares at him blankly, not getting it. Koyama sighs again.
~***~
It’s a few hours before Tegoshi comes back out. Kato is still on the couch, although now he’s simply watching some variety show. Koyama is fighting with dinner in the kitchen, and he’s making a deafeningly loud clamor in the process. Kato glances up when Tegoshi shuffles up to the couch, dressed now in loose, comfortable clothes. The younger fidgets uncomfortable, wringing his right hand with his left, and Kato watches him quietly for a moment before stretching out an inviting arm.
Tegoshi jumps for it.
It isn’t often that Kato lets him cuddle; usually that sort of thing is left to Koyama, who doesn’t mind having Tegoshi attached to his side for hours at a time. But occasionally Kato will let him curl up beside him, usually on days when he’s trying to apologize for something, or when Tegoshi is particularly upset.
Today counts for both, Tegoshi supposes.
Several minutes pass before either of them talk, and surprisingly, it’s Kato that breaks the silence first. “You really like this guy, don’t you?” Tegoshi sniffles and nods against his shoulder. “Love him?” Here, the younger hesitates, nibbles on his lower lip thoughtfully, seriously considering the question.
“…maybe,” he offers quietly, although he sounds uncertain.
Kato sighs. “You know you can’t lie to him forever. He’s going to find out eventually.” Tegoshi nods again, face falling, the corners of his lips turning down. It’s a ridiculously pathetic image, and Kato is ashamed to find that it tugs on his heartstrings, just a bit. “What are you so scared of, anyway?”
Tegoshi gives him an incredulous look, like he can’t believe he’s being asked that. Kato gives him a level glance in return, and the younger squirms. “I… what if he hates me?” He looks absolutely heartbroken at the very idea, shifting away from Kato, pulling his knees up to his chest. “He makes me happy, Shige. When I’m with him…” He breaks off with a quietly helpless noise, looking like he wants to start crying. Kato panics momentarily, reaches out to pat his back awkwardly. Tegoshi makes a miserable sound and trembles. “I don’t want to lose him.”
“If you keep lying to him, you will,” Kato points out, and Tegoshi cringes, but nods, knowing he’s right. At this point, it isn’t a matter of if Masuda finds out; it’s a matter of when. The real deciding point will come in the form of how he finds out; whether Tegoshi tells him or not. Kato sighs, reaches out to touch his shoulder supportively. “Look,” He says, “If this guy really likes you, your gender isn’t going to change that. He might be a little upset that you kept it a secret, but he’ll still care.”
Tegoshi doesn’t seem convinced. “And if he doesn’t?”
Kato’s hand drifts from his shoulder to the back of his neck, squeezes comfortingly. Tegoshi lets him, because it’s rare that Kato is so kind to him, and it’s kind of nice, having someone there to do more than just tell him things will be alright, which is what Koyama usually does. Kato is more down to earth, less willing to sugarcoat things, to be gentle. Sometimes it gets him into trouble, but Tegoshi can appreciate it, at least for the moment.
“Then he doesn’t deserve you.” Kato says in response, perfectly serious, and Tegoshi smiles despite himself. He glances at the older, still feeling miserable and upset, but somehow it’s not as bad as it was.
“Thanks,” he murmurs quietly, because it feels right to say it. Kato gives him a smile -a rare one, fond and gently affectionate, that Kato usually only gives when Tegoshi’s back is turned-and ruffles his hair gently.
“It’ll be all right.” The older promises, and Tegoshi is surprised to find that he might believe him, just a bit.
~***~
Their next date isn’t for another week, because Masuda is having a rough time at work and has to work a few extra shifts. Tegoshi is left floundering because of it.
Now that he’s come to a decision, the extra wait is driving him insane. He would have preferred to just get it out of the way; done and over with, so at the very least he could start to heal. Instead he has to trudge through the next six days, temperamental and unhappy, worrying and tearing himself up inside over what’s coming.
He spends the time latched onto Koyama and occasionally Kato, even going so far as to follow Koyama to work one day. Kato complains about it repeatedly, snaps at Tegoshi several times, but never pushes him away. Both of the older men realize that this is Tegoshi’s form of procrastination, knowing that he could easily pick up the phone to call Masuda and the nurse would come over the first free moment he got. They don’t mention it, Koyama because he’s smart enough to realize that this is something Tegoshi needs to handle in his own way, Kato because Koyama not-so-subtly threatens him with the couch if he does.
Saturday comes around a bit too quickly for Tegoshi, not quickly enough for his roommates, and the night before, Tegoshi lays awake, as he has every night previous, watching the clock and trying not to think about anything but the bright red digital numbers. His cellphone lights up on his nightstand, and the text message is from Masuda, inviting him out for a movie the next day.
Tegoshi reads it several times, bites his lower lip. He could back out now, come up with an excuse, delete Masuda’s number from his phone and never see him again. He could end things without having to humiliate himself in the process. It’s tempting; he doesn’t want to live through the inevitable rejection that’s going to happen tomorrow, and he could avoid it by running from it.
But he’d still have to see Masuda every Sunday at the hospital; he’d still have to face him eventually. And it wouldn’t be fair to Masuda to do something so selfish. He deserves better than that, even if it breaks Tegoshi’s heart in the process.
Fingers trembling, he types out a brief response, snaps his phone closed, and curls into a tight ball on his bed, staying that way for the rest of the night.
~***~
Masuda picks him up in the early evening the next day, grinning pleasantly at Tegoshi through the car window as he pulls the door open and slips inside. He’s still wearing the skirt and wig, but only for now. He doesn’t think it would be right to give Masuda such a shock; not now. He’ll wait until they have a quiet moment together, when there’s no one around; when they can talk in private without being heard or seen.
So instead, he tries to focus on the date. Masuda is cheerful as ever, quiet but thoughtful, and while Tegoshi would normally chatter on to the older man about whatever came to mind, today he simply enjoys his company, occasionally commenting on something he thinks Masuda might find interesting, but otherwise just taking advantage of the company he has.
Masuda lets him pick the movie, being the gentleman that he is, and Tegoshi is so distracted that he randomly selects a popular romantic comedy and lets Masuda escort him in.
The movie is good. Or at least Tegoshi assumes it is, considering the fact that he pays absolutely no attention to it whatsoever, other than to laugh at the appropriate times that everyone else does. Halfway through, Masuda leans over the arm rest between their seats and kisses his cheek sweetly. Tegoshi feels his face heat up, and it only gets worse when Masuda murmurs softly, right against his ear, “Are you okay?”
He sounds honestly concerned, and Tegoshi feels a little bit guilty at the fact that he’s too distracted with trying to keep his skirt from displaying the slight stirring in his lower region to really give him a decent response beyond, “ ‘m fine…”
Masuda doesn’t look convinced, but after a moment, smiles at him and offers him some of the popcorn they ordered to share, letting the issue go. Tegoshi gives him a weak upturn of the lips in return and takes a few pieces, although he doesn’t bother even trying to eat them. Not with his stomach churning and clenching the way it is, the pit of it dropping out every few seconds as dread and uneasy pools inside of him. He thinks he might start shaking, if not for Masuda’s hand brushing his own, their shoulders bumping every few seconds.
The rest of the evening progresses about as smoothly as it possibly can with Tegoshi troubled and Masuda worried over him. When they leave the theater, the younger of the two has absolutely no idea what the film had been about, and he suspects Masuda doesn’t either.
It makes him feel horrible, on top of everything else. This was supposed to be special; possibly their last date. Tegoshi had wanted it to be something to remember. Instead, it’s something he desperately wants to forget; to hide from and escape and never have to face.
The drive back to Tegoshi’s apartment is unnervingly quiet. Masuda seems to sense that the younger has something on his mind, but doesn’t try to pry it out of him, instead waiting for Tegoshi to come to him when he’s ready. It’s the same tactic he always takes when the younger is bothered or troubled, and usually it works well.
Tonight it only serves to make the atmosphere between them more tense.
When they finally pull up, there’s a long pause before either of them moves. It’s almost unbearably awkward, and it hurts Tegoshi, because things between them aren’t supposed to be like this. When he’s with Masuda, he’s comfortable and content and he can be himself… even if himself happens to be dressed up as a girl. It isn’t supposed to be unsettling and apprehensive.
After a few minutes, Tegoshi finally can’t stand it anymore, and he pops open his door and slides out wordlessly. Masuda hesitates before following, and Tegoshi waits for him to catch up, lets the older man walk him to the front door of his apartment building.
When they get there, Masuda turns to him, gives him that sweet smile that makes Tegoshi’s heart ache, and after a moment, mumbles a quiet, “Good night,” before leaning down to kiss him. And it’s at that moment that Tegoshi knows that he needs to do it now; needs to tell the older man, needs to get it out in the open, regardless of the consequences. All at once, the guilt and frustration and pain become too much to bear, and shakily, he reaches up to take Masuda by the shoulders, pushing him away gently but firm.
“Taka, wait.”
Masuda pulls back, looking surprised and confused and a little bit hurt, and Tegoshi bites his lower lip nervously, knowing that now that he’s started, he won’t be able to stop. “Is something wrong?” The older asks, and Tegoshi quivers, just a bit.
“No, nothing,” Everything. “I just…” He sighs, takes a deep breath, and takes the plunge. “We really need to talk.” Masuda stares at him, making him fidget uncomfortably, but he keeps going, unsure if he’s making any sense but needing to get it out anyway. “I know I should have said something earlier, before things got… like this. But I just… I couldn’t. I really like you, and I know it’ll ruin everything, but…” He trails off, not knowing how to push forward. Masuda speaks then, looking at him with a furrowed, concerned expression.
“Are you… breaking up with me?”
“What?” Tegoshi’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly shakes his head. “No! No, it’s nothing like that!” Masuda looks relieved, and Tegoshi almost smiles at it. Almost. Instead, he tries again. “I… Taka, I’m not who you think I am.”
He’s about to go on, to explain everything, to finally come clean. But before he can, Masuda cuts him off, “Is… this about the skirts?” He reaches up, rubs the back of his neck, looking and sounding awkward, like he isn’t sure if he should say anything. “Because, if it is… I’m okay with it. Really.”
Tegoshi stares at him blankly. “…what?”
Masuda shrugs. “I wouldn’t have asked you out if I wasn’t.” He says it like Tegoshi knows what he’s talking about. He pauses for a second, and then licks his lips, looking a little excited. “But… can I…?” He waves a hand, and even though Tegoshi has no idea what he’s asking, he nods anyway. Masuda smiles brightly at him. “I’ve been curious for a while,” He says, and then, without any other warning, reaches up and gently removes the wig from Tegoshi’s head. Tegoshi nearly gapes, startled, but can’t really think of anything to say as Masuda looks at him -him, this time, not her-in surprise. “Oh, it’s brown.” he says, and it takes Tegoshi a moment to realize he’s talking about his hair. And then Masuda grins at him. “It suits you.”
And this time Tegoshi does gape, “I… what…” He stops, starts again, finally tries to put together a real sentence. “I don’t understand. You… you knew?”
Masuda laughs, sounding embarrassed. “I’ve known since the beginning,” He admits, and Tegoshi feels a little bit like an idiot. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Tegoshi suddenly feels lost again, but Masuda keeps talking. “I really am okay with it, all right? I mean, you can’t help the way you are, and I like you for you, not… you know, your sex. Or the sex you want to be.” He laughs nervously, clearly trying to put the younger at ease, but Tegoshi is too busy staring at him to notice, realizing, somewhat appalled, what it is that the older is implying.
“I… you think I’m…” He’s not sure if he should be insulted or just indignant. “Taka, I am not a transvestite!”
Masuda looks confused. “But… the skirts-“
“-are purely for my mother’s benefit.” Tegoshi interrupts, feeling like he wants to start flailing just to get his point across. “In case you haven’t noticed, she kind of thinks I’m a girl.”
Masuda colors awkwardly. “You…” He stops abruptly, eyes wide, and then his expression morphs into one of utter mortification. “Oh god…” Groaning, he buries his face into his hands, hiding. It’s really rather cute, really. “I’m… really embarrassed now.” He says with an uneasy laugh, and Tegoshi smiles, because it’s endearing.
“How did you know?” He asks, feeling like he wants to start laughing. Or maybe cry a bit. Either would be okay right now, he figures.
Masuda laughs, still blushing hard, but apparently grateful for the distraction. He reaches out, gently touches Tegoshi’s neck with light fingers. “You have an Adam’s Apple.” He tells the younger, and Tegoshi blinks, reaches up absently to confirm that, yes, he does have one. Masuda shrugs. “Girls don’t usually… have one, you know? Or at least not a noticeable one.”
Masuda looks hesitant then, like he’s not sure if he should or not, but after a moment, finally reaches out and pulls Tegoshi to him. Tegoshi sighs softly, fits himself comfortably against the older man, and somehow it’s so much more natural now, to do it as himself, and now as Yuuko; like they somehow fit better together now, without that horrible secret -or maybe it’s a non-secret, because Masuda knew all along-hanging between them. Masuda drops a kiss to his hair and Tegoshi smiles against his shoulder.
After a long moment, Tegoshi lifts his head, nuzzles Masuda’s jaw affectionately. The older smiles, gives his lower back a brief rub, and then, after faltering for just a few seconds, leans down to press a kiss to Tegoshi’s lips. It’s slow and easy, and very much like every other kiss they’ve ever shared, but somehow it’s also different, because this time Masuda is kissing him, and that makes it better than anything else in the world.
When they part, slow and reluctant, it’s only to catch their breath. Tegoshi is flushed and a little bit dazed, but very, very happy, and it probably shows, because Masuda smiles down at him fondly, leans forward to drop another kiss, this time to his forehead.
“What’s your name?” The older asks, peering down at him curiously. “Your real name, I mean.”
Tegoshi makes a soft noise, and after a moment, responds quietly, “Yuya,”
“Yuya,” Masuda repeats, although he says it like it’s something special, important, valuable. The sound of it -of his name rolling off the older man’s tongue so smoothly-is oddly appealing to Tegoshi, in some oddly flawed way utterly perfect. After a long moment, Masuda glances at him with hopeful eyes and a familiar grin. “…can I call you that?”
Tegoshi suspects the smile he’s wearing is rather stupid looking and maybe a little bit too strong, but Masuda doesn’t seem to mind, and frankly, he’s too happy to bring himself to care. “Yeah,” he agrees, dropping his head back onto Masuda’s shoulder, content to stay like this for a very, very long time. “I think I’d like that.”
Masuda grins a silly grin, kisses his head, cheek, the corner of his lips, and then rests his cheek against Tegoshi’s hair comfortably, mumbling his name softly, over and over, and Tegoshi thinks, for the very first time, that maybe this time it really will last.
---
Final A/N: I just want to say that this is the ending I've had in mind since the very start of the fic, back when it was supposed to be less of a drama and more of a comedy. I know it's probably a little anti-climatic, but it didn't feel right to change it now ^^; Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who read! And especially to those of you who commented!
See you again♥
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: Last chapter T~T For Misa, because she's been hounding me over it XD
x Part One x Part Two x
As it turns out, ‘soon’ is not within the next month, nor the month after that. Tegoshi and Masuda keep seeing each other, once or twice a week at most, quiet dates that are unlike anything Tegoshi has ever experienced. He supposes it has something to do with Yuuko; Masuda is, after all, courting him like he would a girl. (Tegoshi wonders if it would be any different if he knew the truth, but he usually puts a stop to that train of thought before it can go any farther, because it reminds him rather forcefully that he’s still lying to Masuda, and that makes him uncomfortable.)
They share their first kiss almost two weeks to the day after they start dating. It’s sweet and chaste and not really all that passionate, but Tegoshi giggles when they part and Masuda blushes -because he hadn’t really been planning on kissing “her”, he admits later-and they’re both relatively satisfied with it; at least enough that decide to do it again. And again. And a few dozen times after that, too.
By the time the first month has passed, Tegoshi is more than ready to take things a step further. Masuda is still a bit shy, still blushes when they sneak kisses from across a table or in the hallway of the hospital before Tegoshi leaves. But he’s eager too, Tegoshi can tell, from the way his hands wander occasionally, drifting down his side to rest on his hip when they’re walking, the way his breath hitches when Tegoshi finally makes himself pull away.
And that makes it harder to keep holding back, knowing that Masuda wants him too. Or at least he wants Yuuko.
By the time the third month comes around, Tegoshi is fairly certain he’s going to go insane. He’s not a slut by any means, but he does enjoy a rather healthy sexual lifestyle, one that has come to a grinding halt since he began seeing Masuda. And while that bothers him quite a bit -he kind of seriously misses sex-he’s surprised to find that it’s not quite as earth shattering as it might have been a few months ago.
Because even without sex, he’s still happier with Masuda than he has been with anyone before. Masuda treats him like he’s special; someone to be doted on and adored and, well… loved. It’s not something Tegoshi is used to, but it’s nice, having someone care so much.
But still… sex. He really, really misses sex.
~***~
A week and a half into the third month, Tegoshi comes home in something of a bad mood. He’s spent the last few hours out and about with Masuda, and while it had been fun and just as wonderful as every date prior, his frustration level is at its peak.
He stumbles inside, kicks off his shoes lazily -he’s already changed out of Yuuko’s outfit, stealing a moment in, of all places, a utility closet-- and runs a hand through his hair as he wanders towards the living room. Kato is there, settled on the couch, reading a novel or textbook or something, and he barely even glances up from it when Tegoshi wanders over and collapses face first beside him. Instead, he flips the page and comments, somewhat dryly, “I take it you had fun.”
Tegoshi mumbles something darkly under his breath, not appreciating the sarcasm, and raises his voice just loud enough to growl, “Shut up.”
Kato lifts an eyebrow, glances at the younger from over the top of his book. “Touchy,” he comments airily, and Tegoshi lifts his head just enough off the couch cushions to glare at him.
“Shige,” he starts, voice low, “I haven’t had sex in three months. Back off, or you’re going to lose a limb.”
The older man frowns, marks his place in his book with his index finger and looks at Tegoshi properly. “Isn’t your flavor of the month supposed to take care of that?” He pulls back a bit at the surprisingly fierce look Tegoshi gives him in response.
“I’m not going to cheat on Taka!”
He’s about to go further, but he’s interrupted by a loud noise from the kitchen, and a few seconds later Koyama steps out in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt that Tegoshi is pretty sure belongs to Kato. “I think he was talking about ‘Taka’, Tego.” The eldest points out, shuffling over the couch. “What’s wrong? Trouble in paradise?”
Tegoshi pouts slightly, shakes his head. “No,” He mumbles, ducking his head somewhat nervously, not liking the line that this conversation happens to be toeing across, “Everything’s fine.” Koyama nudges his shoulder, and he obediently sits up and scoots down the couch to make room for him. Kato grumbles unhappily at being jostled as Tegoshi squeezes in beside him, but doesn’t complain about it.
“Then why do you have something to complain about?”
Shrugging rather limply, Tegoshi squirms uncomfortably. “We’re just… not there yet,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. He pointedly avoids meeting either Koyama or Kato’s eyes.
Kato watches him suspiciously, eyes narrowed, a hint of realization touching the edge of his mind. “It’s not like you to take things slow,” he comments, seemingly casual. Tegoshi fidgets, shrugs weakly. “Tegoshi.” Kato’s voice is hard, and when Tegoshi makes no move to answer him, he gets all the answer he needs. “You did tell him, didn’t you?” Again, no response. “Tegoshi!”
“I’m sorry, okay?!” He finally bursts, cringing at the look at both Kato and Koyama send him.
“Tego, you’ve been seeing him for months!” Koyama stares at him, incredulous. “And he still thinks you’re…” He waves a hand vaguely, but it isn’t hard to guess what he’s getting at. Tegoshi nods, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, and Koyama groans, pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Tegoshi…” But he stops, unable to think of anything to say.
Kato, however, isn’t quite as limited. “I don’t get it,” he grumbles, scowling at Tegoshi, who is doing his best to look pathetic. Really, he should know by now that that look doesn’t work on Kato. “I don’t see why you’re keeping it a secret.” Tegoshi gives him a strange look, and the older goes on, “I mean, best case scenario: he turns out to be bi and you two can jump each other and be done with it. Worst case, he drops you and you can go find someone else to fuck you senseless.” He shrugs, attention going back to his book. “It’s a win-win for you, isn’t it?”
He misses the look that Tegoshi gives him -infuriated, angry, upset-but he doesn’t miss the way the younger scrambles off the couch, throws him one last dirty look, before storming off. The sound of a door slamming violently follows his departure, and Kato stares after him, dumbfounded.
“…what?” He looks to Koyama, who is giving him an unimpressed look. “What’d I say?”
Koyama sighs, reaches out to pat Kato’s shoulder. “Shige, I love you,” he says, sounding exasperated. “But sometimes you’re an insensitive idiot.”
Kato stares at him blankly, not getting it. Koyama sighs again.
~***~
It’s a few hours before Tegoshi comes back out. Kato is still on the couch, although now he’s simply watching some variety show. Koyama is fighting with dinner in the kitchen, and he’s making a deafeningly loud clamor in the process. Kato glances up when Tegoshi shuffles up to the couch, dressed now in loose, comfortable clothes. The younger fidgets uncomfortable, wringing his right hand with his left, and Kato watches him quietly for a moment before stretching out an inviting arm.
Tegoshi jumps for it.
It isn’t often that Kato lets him cuddle; usually that sort of thing is left to Koyama, who doesn’t mind having Tegoshi attached to his side for hours at a time. But occasionally Kato will let him curl up beside him, usually on days when he’s trying to apologize for something, or when Tegoshi is particularly upset.
Today counts for both, Tegoshi supposes.
Several minutes pass before either of them talk, and surprisingly, it’s Kato that breaks the silence first. “You really like this guy, don’t you?” Tegoshi sniffles and nods against his shoulder. “Love him?” Here, the younger hesitates, nibbles on his lower lip thoughtfully, seriously considering the question.
“…maybe,” he offers quietly, although he sounds uncertain.
Kato sighs. “You know you can’t lie to him forever. He’s going to find out eventually.” Tegoshi nods again, face falling, the corners of his lips turning down. It’s a ridiculously pathetic image, and Kato is ashamed to find that it tugs on his heartstrings, just a bit. “What are you so scared of, anyway?”
Tegoshi gives him an incredulous look, like he can’t believe he’s being asked that. Kato gives him a level glance in return, and the younger squirms. “I… what if he hates me?” He looks absolutely heartbroken at the very idea, shifting away from Kato, pulling his knees up to his chest. “He makes me happy, Shige. When I’m with him…” He breaks off with a quietly helpless noise, looking like he wants to start crying. Kato panics momentarily, reaches out to pat his back awkwardly. Tegoshi makes a miserable sound and trembles. “I don’t want to lose him.”
“If you keep lying to him, you will,” Kato points out, and Tegoshi cringes, but nods, knowing he’s right. At this point, it isn’t a matter of if Masuda finds out; it’s a matter of when. The real deciding point will come in the form of how he finds out; whether Tegoshi tells him or not. Kato sighs, reaches out to touch his shoulder supportively. “Look,” He says, “If this guy really likes you, your gender isn’t going to change that. He might be a little upset that you kept it a secret, but he’ll still care.”
Tegoshi doesn’t seem convinced. “And if he doesn’t?”
Kato’s hand drifts from his shoulder to the back of his neck, squeezes comfortingly. Tegoshi lets him, because it’s rare that Kato is so kind to him, and it’s kind of nice, having someone there to do more than just tell him things will be alright, which is what Koyama usually does. Kato is more down to earth, less willing to sugarcoat things, to be gentle. Sometimes it gets him into trouble, but Tegoshi can appreciate it, at least for the moment.
“Then he doesn’t deserve you.” Kato says in response, perfectly serious, and Tegoshi smiles despite himself. He glances at the older, still feeling miserable and upset, but somehow it’s not as bad as it was.
“Thanks,” he murmurs quietly, because it feels right to say it. Kato gives him a smile -a rare one, fond and gently affectionate, that Kato usually only gives when Tegoshi’s back is turned-and ruffles his hair gently.
“It’ll be all right.” The older promises, and Tegoshi is surprised to find that he might believe him, just a bit.
~***~
Their next date isn’t for another week, because Masuda is having a rough time at work and has to work a few extra shifts. Tegoshi is left floundering because of it.
Now that he’s come to a decision, the extra wait is driving him insane. He would have preferred to just get it out of the way; done and over with, so at the very least he could start to heal. Instead he has to trudge through the next six days, temperamental and unhappy, worrying and tearing himself up inside over what’s coming.
He spends the time latched onto Koyama and occasionally Kato, even going so far as to follow Koyama to work one day. Kato complains about it repeatedly, snaps at Tegoshi several times, but never pushes him away. Both of the older men realize that this is Tegoshi’s form of procrastination, knowing that he could easily pick up the phone to call Masuda and the nurse would come over the first free moment he got. They don’t mention it, Koyama because he’s smart enough to realize that this is something Tegoshi needs to handle in his own way, Kato because Koyama not-so-subtly threatens him with the couch if he does.
Saturday comes around a bit too quickly for Tegoshi, not quickly enough for his roommates, and the night before, Tegoshi lays awake, as he has every night previous, watching the clock and trying not to think about anything but the bright red digital numbers. His cellphone lights up on his nightstand, and the text message is from Masuda, inviting him out for a movie the next day.
Tegoshi reads it several times, bites his lower lip. He could back out now, come up with an excuse, delete Masuda’s number from his phone and never see him again. He could end things without having to humiliate himself in the process. It’s tempting; he doesn’t want to live through the inevitable rejection that’s going to happen tomorrow, and he could avoid it by running from it.
But he’d still have to see Masuda every Sunday at the hospital; he’d still have to face him eventually. And it wouldn’t be fair to Masuda to do something so selfish. He deserves better than that, even if it breaks Tegoshi’s heart in the process.
Fingers trembling, he types out a brief response, snaps his phone closed, and curls into a tight ball on his bed, staying that way for the rest of the night.
~***~
Masuda picks him up in the early evening the next day, grinning pleasantly at Tegoshi through the car window as he pulls the door open and slips inside. He’s still wearing the skirt and wig, but only for now. He doesn’t think it would be right to give Masuda such a shock; not now. He’ll wait until they have a quiet moment together, when there’s no one around; when they can talk in private without being heard or seen.
So instead, he tries to focus on the date. Masuda is cheerful as ever, quiet but thoughtful, and while Tegoshi would normally chatter on to the older man about whatever came to mind, today he simply enjoys his company, occasionally commenting on something he thinks Masuda might find interesting, but otherwise just taking advantage of the company he has.
Masuda lets him pick the movie, being the gentleman that he is, and Tegoshi is so distracted that he randomly selects a popular romantic comedy and lets Masuda escort him in.
The movie is good. Or at least Tegoshi assumes it is, considering the fact that he pays absolutely no attention to it whatsoever, other than to laugh at the appropriate times that everyone else does. Halfway through, Masuda leans over the arm rest between their seats and kisses his cheek sweetly. Tegoshi feels his face heat up, and it only gets worse when Masuda murmurs softly, right against his ear, “Are you okay?”
He sounds honestly concerned, and Tegoshi feels a little bit guilty at the fact that he’s too distracted with trying to keep his skirt from displaying the slight stirring in his lower region to really give him a decent response beyond, “ ‘m fine…”
Masuda doesn’t look convinced, but after a moment, smiles at him and offers him some of the popcorn they ordered to share, letting the issue go. Tegoshi gives him a weak upturn of the lips in return and takes a few pieces, although he doesn’t bother even trying to eat them. Not with his stomach churning and clenching the way it is, the pit of it dropping out every few seconds as dread and uneasy pools inside of him. He thinks he might start shaking, if not for Masuda’s hand brushing his own, their shoulders bumping every few seconds.
The rest of the evening progresses about as smoothly as it possibly can with Tegoshi troubled and Masuda worried over him. When they leave the theater, the younger of the two has absolutely no idea what the film had been about, and he suspects Masuda doesn’t either.
It makes him feel horrible, on top of everything else. This was supposed to be special; possibly their last date. Tegoshi had wanted it to be something to remember. Instead, it’s something he desperately wants to forget; to hide from and escape and never have to face.
The drive back to Tegoshi’s apartment is unnervingly quiet. Masuda seems to sense that the younger has something on his mind, but doesn’t try to pry it out of him, instead waiting for Tegoshi to come to him when he’s ready. It’s the same tactic he always takes when the younger is bothered or troubled, and usually it works well.
Tonight it only serves to make the atmosphere between them more tense.
When they finally pull up, there’s a long pause before either of them moves. It’s almost unbearably awkward, and it hurts Tegoshi, because things between them aren’t supposed to be like this. When he’s with Masuda, he’s comfortable and content and he can be himself… even if himself happens to be dressed up as a girl. It isn’t supposed to be unsettling and apprehensive.
After a few minutes, Tegoshi finally can’t stand it anymore, and he pops open his door and slides out wordlessly. Masuda hesitates before following, and Tegoshi waits for him to catch up, lets the older man walk him to the front door of his apartment building.
When they get there, Masuda turns to him, gives him that sweet smile that makes Tegoshi’s heart ache, and after a moment, mumbles a quiet, “Good night,” before leaning down to kiss him. And it’s at that moment that Tegoshi knows that he needs to do it now; needs to tell the older man, needs to get it out in the open, regardless of the consequences. All at once, the guilt and frustration and pain become too much to bear, and shakily, he reaches up to take Masuda by the shoulders, pushing him away gently but firm.
“Taka, wait.”
Masuda pulls back, looking surprised and confused and a little bit hurt, and Tegoshi bites his lower lip nervously, knowing that now that he’s started, he won’t be able to stop. “Is something wrong?” The older asks, and Tegoshi quivers, just a bit.
“No, nothing,” Everything. “I just…” He sighs, takes a deep breath, and takes the plunge. “We really need to talk.” Masuda stares at him, making him fidget uncomfortably, but he keeps going, unsure if he’s making any sense but needing to get it out anyway. “I know I should have said something earlier, before things got… like this. But I just… I couldn’t. I really like you, and I know it’ll ruin everything, but…” He trails off, not knowing how to push forward. Masuda speaks then, looking at him with a furrowed, concerned expression.
“Are you… breaking up with me?”
“What?” Tegoshi’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly shakes his head. “No! No, it’s nothing like that!” Masuda looks relieved, and Tegoshi almost smiles at it. Almost. Instead, he tries again. “I… Taka, I’m not who you think I am.”
He’s about to go on, to explain everything, to finally come clean. But before he can, Masuda cuts him off, “Is… this about the skirts?” He reaches up, rubs the back of his neck, looking and sounding awkward, like he isn’t sure if he should say anything. “Because, if it is… I’m okay with it. Really.”
Tegoshi stares at him blankly. “…what?”
Masuda shrugs. “I wouldn’t have asked you out if I wasn’t.” He says it like Tegoshi knows what he’s talking about. He pauses for a second, and then licks his lips, looking a little excited. “But… can I…?” He waves a hand, and even though Tegoshi has no idea what he’s asking, he nods anyway. Masuda smiles brightly at him. “I’ve been curious for a while,” He says, and then, without any other warning, reaches up and gently removes the wig from Tegoshi’s head. Tegoshi nearly gapes, startled, but can’t really think of anything to say as Masuda looks at him -him, this time, not her-in surprise. “Oh, it’s brown.” he says, and it takes Tegoshi a moment to realize he’s talking about his hair. And then Masuda grins at him. “It suits you.”
And this time Tegoshi does gape, “I… what…” He stops, starts again, finally tries to put together a real sentence. “I don’t understand. You… you knew?”
Masuda laughs, sounding embarrassed. “I’ve known since the beginning,” He admits, and Tegoshi feels a little bit like an idiot. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Tegoshi suddenly feels lost again, but Masuda keeps talking. “I really am okay with it, all right? I mean, you can’t help the way you are, and I like you for you, not… you know, your sex. Or the sex you want to be.” He laughs nervously, clearly trying to put the younger at ease, but Tegoshi is too busy staring at him to notice, realizing, somewhat appalled, what it is that the older is implying.
“I… you think I’m…” He’s not sure if he should be insulted or just indignant. “Taka, I am not a transvestite!”
Masuda looks confused. “But… the skirts-“
“-are purely for my mother’s benefit.” Tegoshi interrupts, feeling like he wants to start flailing just to get his point across. “In case you haven’t noticed, she kind of thinks I’m a girl.”
Masuda colors awkwardly. “You…” He stops abruptly, eyes wide, and then his expression morphs into one of utter mortification. “Oh god…” Groaning, he buries his face into his hands, hiding. It’s really rather cute, really. “I’m… really embarrassed now.” He says with an uneasy laugh, and Tegoshi smiles, because it’s endearing.
“How did you know?” He asks, feeling like he wants to start laughing. Or maybe cry a bit. Either would be okay right now, he figures.
Masuda laughs, still blushing hard, but apparently grateful for the distraction. He reaches out, gently touches Tegoshi’s neck with light fingers. “You have an Adam’s Apple.” He tells the younger, and Tegoshi blinks, reaches up absently to confirm that, yes, he does have one. Masuda shrugs. “Girls don’t usually… have one, you know? Or at least not a noticeable one.”
Masuda looks hesitant then, like he’s not sure if he should or not, but after a moment, finally reaches out and pulls Tegoshi to him. Tegoshi sighs softly, fits himself comfortably against the older man, and somehow it’s so much more natural now, to do it as himself, and now as Yuuko; like they somehow fit better together now, without that horrible secret -or maybe it’s a non-secret, because Masuda knew all along-hanging between them. Masuda drops a kiss to his hair and Tegoshi smiles against his shoulder.
After a long moment, Tegoshi lifts his head, nuzzles Masuda’s jaw affectionately. The older smiles, gives his lower back a brief rub, and then, after faltering for just a few seconds, leans down to press a kiss to Tegoshi’s lips. It’s slow and easy, and very much like every other kiss they’ve ever shared, but somehow it’s also different, because this time Masuda is kissing him, and that makes it better than anything else in the world.
When they part, slow and reluctant, it’s only to catch their breath. Tegoshi is flushed and a little bit dazed, but very, very happy, and it probably shows, because Masuda smiles down at him fondly, leans forward to drop another kiss, this time to his forehead.
“What’s your name?” The older asks, peering down at him curiously. “Your real name, I mean.”
Tegoshi makes a soft noise, and after a moment, responds quietly, “Yuya,”
“Yuya,” Masuda repeats, although he says it like it’s something special, important, valuable. The sound of it -of his name rolling off the older man’s tongue so smoothly-is oddly appealing to Tegoshi, in some oddly flawed way utterly perfect. After a long moment, Masuda glances at him with hopeful eyes and a familiar grin. “…can I call you that?”
Tegoshi suspects the smile he’s wearing is rather stupid looking and maybe a little bit too strong, but Masuda doesn’t seem to mind, and frankly, he’s too happy to bring himself to care. “Yeah,” he agrees, dropping his head back onto Masuda’s shoulder, content to stay like this for a very, very long time. “I think I’d like that.”
Masuda grins a silly grin, kisses his head, cheek, the corner of his lips, and then rests his cheek against Tegoshi’s hair comfortably, mumbling his name softly, over and over, and Tegoshi thinks, for the very first time, that maybe this time it really will last.
---
Final A/N: I just want to say that this is the ending I've had in mind since the very start of the fic, back when it was supposed to be less of a drama and more of a comedy. I know it's probably a little anti-climatic, but it didn't feel right to change it now ^^; Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who read! And especially to those of you who commented!
See you again♥