[FIC] NewS - Big Brother Complex
Title: Big Brother Complex
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi (mentioned Tegoshi/FOC)
Rating: PG-13 (bad language and... Tegoshi)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In his mind, Tegoshi Yuya is a heartless monster who eats pretty young girls for dinner.
A/N: Kindly edited for me by yuukarin (who is NOT A BAFFOON) because she's too lazy to actually beta XD Also... this is my first one-shot for this fandom... YAY milestones!
She was broken when they met.
Masuda thinks that that little fact is the real source of all of his hatred aimed at this Tegoshi Yuya. She was broken, vulnerable, hurting, and he took advantage. She thought she needed someone else, to fill the hole left by her bastard of an ex-boyfriend, and he caught her before she could get home, before Masuda could be the big brother that she needed and hold her tight and make her realize that what she really needed was to swear off of men altogether.
But he didn’t get to do that, because this Tegoshi Yuya met her on the train before he got the chance.
And now history has repeated itself and she’s brokenhearted all over again. Which means that is Masuda’s duty, as her old brother, to personally hunt down and kill this Tegoshi Yuya, and then conveniently bury his body in his own backyard. This is a good plan; Masuda knows because it’s been stewing in his head ever since his baby sister entered the dating world, and although he’s never had the opportunity to put it into action until now, he’s had plenty of time to perfect it.
Not that he has perfected it, per say. In fact, he hasn’t even really gotten past the whole kill Tegoshi part just yet. But still, petty details. He’ll work them out after he’s buried the body.
Hunting him down is the easy part. Little Sister still has his address in the contact list of her phone. And anyway, he’s in the phone book. It takes little effort to find his surprisingly modest apartment building. Masuda had been expecting something a little more grand, because from what his little sister has told him, this Tegoshi person seems to throw money around quite frequently, wasting it on things like parties and expensive drinks.
Or maybe that was her last boyfriend. He has trouble telling them apart sometimes.
Regardless, the building is not what he expects. Tegoshi’s apartment is on the fourth floor, which is frustrating because the elevator doesn’t work and he has to take the stairs. This is just one more reason to hate this man, as far as Masuda is concerned, so it is therefore not really too much of a bad thing. The only downside is that whoever designed the building was clearly a sadist, as the stairwells alternate on each floor, meaning he has to traverse each one on his way up.
The only people he encounters during this trek is an elderly old woman toddling her way to her room and a young man following her at a sedate pace, carrying a pair of grocery bags. He’s actually rather attractive, in a sort of girlish kind of way, even if the only reason Masuda notices this is because he has to sidestep him in the hall while the old woman shuffles through her bag for her keys.
Masuda must admit, he’s somewhat disappointed when he finally reaches the right floor and finds the proper room, only to discover that no one is home. He knocks a few times, just to be sure, but receives no answer. This is mildly frustrating, but not really a setback, because Masuda is prepared to wait for as long as it takes for him to come home.
He wouldn’t be a very good big brother, after all, if he gave up after just one deterrent.
So he sits on the doorstep and waits. He expects it to take a while, because things like this usually do, so he’s surprised when after just a few moments, he’s startled out of his sour thoughts by a soft, “Oh,” When he looks up to properly face the man that he is about to murder, he feels his stomach drop.
It’s the young man he encountered two floors down. Masuda hopes this is just a coincidence, because it would be a terrible shame to have to hate someone so pretty, but the young man is holding a key ring and standing in front of Masuda like he’s expecting him to move. And Masuda thinks this is kind of cataclysmic for his plan, because in his mind, Tegoshi Yuya is a heartless monster who eats pretty young girls for dinner. He’s not a sweet looking young man who helps old ladies carry their groceries up two flights of stairs.
There’s an awkward stretch of silence, during which Tegoshi watches him blankly while Masuda inwardly scrambles. After a long moment, Tegoshi jingles his keys and smiles, and Masuda thinks that that only makes it worse, because he has a very pretty smile that makes Masuda’s stomach do a strange kind of flip-flop.
“Can I help you?” Tegoshi asks, and dear lord, his voice is better than his smile.
“I… um…” Masuda replies, quite eloquently. Tegoshi smiles wider, in a sort of way that says he thinks this is cute, and Masuda feels his face color shamelessly. “I’m… um… here to kill you.”
Foot… mouth… bad, he thinks to himself right after, and it’s with more than a little bit of alarm that he realizes that that wasn’t really a proper sentence.
To his credit, Tegoshi looks unperturbed by this statement. He simply tilts his head in a way that’s almost unbearably attractive and says, in a way that suggests he might simply be inviting Masuda for tea, “Okay then. Should we go inside?”
And Masuda nods, because it occurs to him that it would be terribly impolite to attempt to murder someone in the hallway outside their apartment. And, well, the doorway is rather uncomfortable to sit against. So he stands, and he and Tegoshi do an awkward kind of dance while trying to rearrange themselves in order to unlock the door. Masuda is ashamed at the fact that this dance makes his heart flutter in a way that it shouldn’t. He’s also ashamed to be thinking that if this young man hadn’t just torn his little sister’s heart out, he might actually consider hooking up with him. Because he can kind of definitely see the appeal, especially with Tegoshi being all soft features and tousled hair and pretty eyes.
Inside the apartment is rather homey. Masuda barely notices it, a little bit too distracted with watching in mesmerized fascination at the way Tegoshi’s hips swing when he walks and inwardly hating himself because this is a very bad thing, but it’s definitely a home, and not just a place to live. Which Masuda has never encountered before in an apartment, but Tegoshi seems to be breaking all kinds of records for him today.
He turns down the offer for coffee, and then the one for tea, because he really thinks they should just get on with it so that Masuda can stop thinking about all the ways that Tegoshi might look good without his pants on. Tegoshi ignores him, cheerfully pouring them both a cup of coffee and tugging Masuda over to the couch, where he proceeds to prove that he has no sense of self-preservation or personal space and practically takes up residence on Masuda’s lap.
Or at least that’s how it seems to Masuda.
“So, you’re Massu,” Tegoshi says conversationally, taking a sip of his drink. Masuda is a little too distracted with the way their thighs are pressed together to properly make sense of it, and his response is rather belated.
“Uhh… Massu?” He repeats intelligently. Tegoshi looks unashamed.
“Sorry. Masuda. Massu is what I call you in my head,” he explains, like it’s perfectly reasonable. “You’re the big brother, right?” Masuda nods, because it seems like the right response, and Tegoshi smiles pleasantly. “She talks about you a lot.”
It takes him a moment to realize that ‘she’ is probably his sister. Which reminds him rather forcefully about why he’s here in the first place. He squirms, scoots down the couch a bit so that he can think a bit more clearly. “You’re, um… you’re Tegoshi, right?” Which is kind of a dumb way to start, but at least it’s better than sitting there and letting himself be partially molested.
Tegoshi smiles, apparently amused. “Yes,” he says, all the while creeping a hand along the cushions, clearly aiming for Masuda’s leg. Masuda is torn between letting him have his way and jumping away.
“She’s, um…” Masuda pauses, reaches out to remove the fingers attempting to not-so-subtly feel him up. Tegoshi pouts, and it’s a little bit enchanting. “She’s really… upset.”
He’s surprised at the response he gets from this. Tegoshi turns serious, expression going from playful to bothered. He steals his hand back and sighs, dropping his chin into his palm. “I know,” he says, sounding unhappy about this. “She texted me earlier.” Masuda blanches at this a little bit, because he thought she was smarter than that. “I wish there something I could do to help.”
Masuda sputters a bit, because that’s kind of a ridiculous thing to say when it’s obvious what the answer is. “You could take her back!” It’s not until Tegoshi looks at him oddly that he realizes he said it out loud. “I mean… yeah.”
“’Take her back’?” Tegoshi echoes questioningly. “We’d have to be dating for me to do that. And even then, it wouldn’t really help with this.”
“Not dating?” Masuda is incredulous, and rightfully so. “Then what do you call this last week?” Granted, a week is a short span for any sort of relationship, but still. Tegoshi could at least be a little more sensitive about it.
But instead, he gets a blank expression. “…really good sex?” Tegoshi offers, and Masuda is suddenly bluntly reminded of his rather intense desire to strangle this man. He spends a long moment trying to find an appropriate response to that, but he’s beaten to it when Tegoshi frowns, looking confused. “Wait.” He says, “What exactly are we talking about here? Just to make sure that we’re on the same page.”
Masuda wants to flail, but he thinks that doing so might make him look a little bit less serious, so he settles for glaring, which apparently isn’t affective at all. “We’re talking about you dumping my baby sister!”
Tegoshi, if anything, only looks more confused. “I didn’t dump her,” he protests. “We weren’t even seeing each other. I told you that.”
“But you slept with her-“
“Yes.” Tegoshi nods, apparently not understanding why Masuda is so upset over this. “Once. A week ago.” He looks vaguely troubled. “She really didn’t tell you about this?” Masuda looks a little sheepish at this, because in all honesty, she didn’t really tell him anything; he’d put the pieces together himself. Tegoshi sighs at Masuda’s expression, looks vaguely disappointed, and scoots back a bit on the couch to give them room. Masuda is a little surprised at this, but not ungrateful; it’s a little hard to think with the other man so close.
“We only had sex once,” Tegoshi explains. “And she’s really nice, don’t get me wrong, but your sister really isn’t my type.”
“But… you-“
“-hooked up with her once, yeah.” Tegoshi shrugs. “She was cute, and crying, and needed someone to take advantage of. I wasn’t going to complain.” He smiles at Masuda’s somewhat scandalized expression, because it’s sort of cute. “She’s sweet, though. We traded numbers after…” A vague hand wave, because it’s pretty clear Masuda doesn’t want to hear the details.
“Then…” Masuda frowns, now thoroughly befuddled. His big brother instincts have been put to rest without killing anyone, and now he’s a little bit lost. He leans back against couch in a slouch, starring blankly at a photo frame on the coffee table, no doubt of Tegoshi and his mother. “I don’t get it. Why is she upset?”
Tegoshi sighs, picks up his nearly forgotten coffee cup and takes a drink, grimacing when he notes that it’s gotten cold. “She really didn’t tell you anything,” he repeats with a frown. Masuda shakes his head, a little bit miserable now. “She got rejected,” Tegoshi goes on, sounding honestly saddened by this. “Her crush; she confessed, and he rejected her. That’s why she’s upset.”
“…oh.” Masuda feels kind of useless right now, because he didn’t he know that she had a crush, let alone one that she was planning on confessing to, and that makes him feel sort of awful. Admittedly, he’s never been too terribly attentive when she talks, but still… this is the sort of thing he should know before he goes storming up four flights of stairs intent on assaulting someone that’s really rather enchanting.
Tegoshi smiles, reaches over to pat his knee in a surprisingly platonic fashion. “She’ll be over it in a few days. Don’t worry.” It’s really kind of sweet, actually, that he’s trying to make Masuda feel better. Not so sweet, however, when his hand remains on the knee and creeps upward.
He jumps, half yelping in surprise, and has to physically resist the urge to pull his legs up, feeling vaguely like his privacy is being invaded. “You’re really forward, aren’t you?”
Tegoshi looks disappointed, but obediently pulls his hand back. Masuda would probably feel a little bit better if he maybe sat on them too. “She… didn’t send you, did she?” When Masuda shakes his head, he pouts. “Damn. I thought… she’s always talking about setting us up.” That sounds more like a slip of the tongue than an actual complaint, but it’s still alarming.
“What?” He squeaks. “She what?”
Tegoshi smiles, a little bit devilishly. “Your little sister is a matchmaker in the making. She thinks we’d be a good pair.”
Well, he can’t really argue with that. But still. “…what?”
A laugh, and Masuda wants to think that it’s annoying and grating, just to be defiant, because it really sounds a little bit like an overly loud bell. “She’s not my-“
“-type,” Masuda echoes, wondering what that has to do with anything. The question pops into his mind almost immediately after, though, and it seems like the right one to ask. “…then what is your type?”
Tegoshi smiles, wide, pleased, and Masuda knows that that was the right question now. He leans forward, scoots down the couch, and suddenly he’s right there, fingers creeping over Masuda’s shirt in a way that’s actually really, really nice.
“Cute big brothers with a protective streak,” he says, voice dropping into a near purr. He’s really close now, nose brushing against Masuda’s cheek, breath against his lips, and Masuda is pretty sure he feels his brain stop functioning right around that moment.
“Um… okay,” He says, somewhat uselessly, and Tegoshi smiles again, and really, that’s the end of it, because the next second they’re kissing, slow and kind of sloppy, and Masuda thinks it’s really nice until Tegoshi’s tongue pokes at his lower lip, slides across it pleasantly slow, and then it becomes really fucking fantastic.
The only thing that ruins it is air, the need for it specifically, and it’s nearly torture to pull away from that, especially when his eyes flicker open -when did he close them, anyway?-and gets a good look of Tegoshi, who’s lips are swollen and eyes are half lidded and cheeks are flushed. He kind of wants to kiss him again, because it would probably be the greatest fucking thing in the whole damn world, but he doesn’t, because he’s Masuda, and that means that any moment of possible smoothness is immediately ruined by several following minutes of stuttering shyness.
Which starts now. “I, um… wow?”
Tegoshi laughs, absently fingers his collar in a way that’s ridiculously distracting. “Wow is good,” he says, sounding pleased.
“Wow is definitely good,” Masuda agrees somewhat blindly, smiling in a way that he’s pretty sure makes him look like a complete goof. But that’s okay, because he feels like a complete goof. Especially with Tegoshi in his arms like this, because they somehow shifted during the course of the kiss, and now he’s pressed up against Masuda’s side, Masuda’s arms around his waist and hips, and it’s kind of really amazing that they fit together so well. Tegoshi seems to agree, because he nuzzles at Masuda’s cheek in an adorable sort of way and seems perfectly happy to stay like that.
It’s right around then that Masuda comes back to himself. Remembers, at least vaguely, that he came here to defend his sister’s honor, only instead he’s making out with the person he was supposed to be defending her from, and he’d be a really, really terrible older brother if he left her alone at home to cry her eyes out over some bastard who turned her down. And even though it’s the hardest choice he’s ever had to make -seriously, it feels like it is-in the end his instincts to protect his baby sister outweigh his somewhat desperate want to press Tegoshi into the couch and fuck him senseless.
But only by a little bit.
Groaning at his own moral compass -because it’s really inconvenient at a time like this-he sighs, sets about untangling his limbs from Tegoshi’s. The other makes a sharp noise of protest, pouts when he’s physically lifted up and set aside, and crosses his arms somewhat petulantly. “You can’t be serious.”
Masuda smiles, because it’s a cute image; pats his hair in an attempt at pacifying him. “Big brothers with a protective streak, right?” He reminds, a little bit more in his element now that he’s had time to breathe. “I wouldn’t qualify if I didn’t go back to her.”
Tegoshi doesn’t seem too pleased with this logic, but he doesn’t argue further when Masuda stands up, even smiles a bit when he turns around and walks right into the coffee table. Masuda swears quietly as his shins ache, flushes a bit in embarrassment, makes to leave, but pauses at the last second. On impulse, he turns back, leans down, brushes his lips against Tegoshi’s.
It’s slow, gentle, far more chaste than the last one, but somehow it feels a little bit more meaningful. Tegoshi sighs into it, and it’s a startlingly sweet sound that makes Masuda’s knees quake just a little bit. A hand slips into his hair, plays lightly with the strands there, another slides across his chest, and he knows if he doesn’t stop then that he never will. They separate slowly, Masuda leading it, Tegoshi reluctantly allowing it. When they’re properly apart, they spend a moment, foreheads bumping, and Masuda can’t help but reach up and slide his thumb against Tegoshi’s lower lip, tracing the full contours with far too much attention.
“I’ll call you,” he promises after a moment, inwardly making a plan in his mind to steal his sister’s cellphone and get the number. She’d never let him live it down if he just asked.
Tegoshi pouts, leans up to steal one last kiss, and Masuda laughs into it, because it seems like the most natural thing in the world right now. He can’t believe that they just met under an hour ago; it seems like so much longer. And inwardly he grimaces at that, because it sounds like something from one of his sister’s shojo novels; sappy and girly and very, very true.
Tegoshi doesn’t walk him to the door, even though Masuda might like it if he did; he stays on the couch, elbow on his knee, chin in his palm, looking unhappy as Masuda slips on his shoes at the entry way. His frown deepens when the other peers over his shoulder and gives him one final smile before disappearing down the hall.
What Tegoshi doesn’t see is the way Masuda pauses at the front door, conflicted. He really does want to get back to his sister, because he likes to be there for her when she needs him, and even though right now she’d be better with their mother or one of her girlfriends, it makes him uncomfortable to think that he might be abandoning her. But on the other hand… Tegoshi, who is ridiculously tempting in his own right. And…
Oh hell. She has to learn to live without him sometime, doesn’t she?
He spins on his heel, nearly trips in the process, heads back up the hall and peeks out the doorway there, smiling again when he catches sight of Tegoshi, still pouting on the couch, clearly displeased.
“Tegoshi,” he says, and the named man peeks up, face brightening. It’s an endearing image, one that Masuda thinks he’ll hold onto for a while. He fidgets, awkward, stumbles over his words as he finally asks, “Do you want to… get some coffee or something?”
He thinks that maybe he should be a little bit afraid of the near-predatory look he’s given in response.
“We already had coffee,” Tegoshi reminds him cheerfully, and that’s about all the warning Masuda gets before he pounces.
But then, he’s not really complaining about that.
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi (mentioned Tegoshi/FOC)
Rating: PG-13 (bad language and... Tegoshi)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In his mind, Tegoshi Yuya is a heartless monster who eats pretty young girls for dinner.
A/N: Kindly edited for me by yuukarin (who is NOT A BAFFOON) because she's too lazy to actually beta XD Also... this is my first one-shot for this fandom... YAY milestones!
She was broken when they met.
Masuda thinks that that little fact is the real source of all of his hatred aimed at this Tegoshi Yuya. She was broken, vulnerable, hurting, and he took advantage. She thought she needed someone else, to fill the hole left by her bastard of an ex-boyfriend, and he caught her before she could get home, before Masuda could be the big brother that she needed and hold her tight and make her realize that what she really needed was to swear off of men altogether.
But he didn’t get to do that, because this Tegoshi Yuya met her on the train before he got the chance.
And now history has repeated itself and she’s brokenhearted all over again. Which means that is Masuda’s duty, as her old brother, to personally hunt down and kill this Tegoshi Yuya, and then conveniently bury his body in his own backyard. This is a good plan; Masuda knows because it’s been stewing in his head ever since his baby sister entered the dating world, and although he’s never had the opportunity to put it into action until now, he’s had plenty of time to perfect it.
Not that he has perfected it, per say. In fact, he hasn’t even really gotten past the whole kill Tegoshi part just yet. But still, petty details. He’ll work them out after he’s buried the body.
Hunting him down is the easy part. Little Sister still has his address in the contact list of her phone. And anyway, he’s in the phone book. It takes little effort to find his surprisingly modest apartment building. Masuda had been expecting something a little more grand, because from what his little sister has told him, this Tegoshi person seems to throw money around quite frequently, wasting it on things like parties and expensive drinks.
Or maybe that was her last boyfriend. He has trouble telling them apart sometimes.
Regardless, the building is not what he expects. Tegoshi’s apartment is on the fourth floor, which is frustrating because the elevator doesn’t work and he has to take the stairs. This is just one more reason to hate this man, as far as Masuda is concerned, so it is therefore not really too much of a bad thing. The only downside is that whoever designed the building was clearly a sadist, as the stairwells alternate on each floor, meaning he has to traverse each one on his way up.
The only people he encounters during this trek is an elderly old woman toddling her way to her room and a young man following her at a sedate pace, carrying a pair of grocery bags. He’s actually rather attractive, in a sort of girlish kind of way, even if the only reason Masuda notices this is because he has to sidestep him in the hall while the old woman shuffles through her bag for her keys.
Masuda must admit, he’s somewhat disappointed when he finally reaches the right floor and finds the proper room, only to discover that no one is home. He knocks a few times, just to be sure, but receives no answer. This is mildly frustrating, but not really a setback, because Masuda is prepared to wait for as long as it takes for him to come home.
He wouldn’t be a very good big brother, after all, if he gave up after just one deterrent.
So he sits on the doorstep and waits. He expects it to take a while, because things like this usually do, so he’s surprised when after just a few moments, he’s startled out of his sour thoughts by a soft, “Oh,” When he looks up to properly face the man that he is about to murder, he feels his stomach drop.
It’s the young man he encountered two floors down. Masuda hopes this is just a coincidence, because it would be a terrible shame to have to hate someone so pretty, but the young man is holding a key ring and standing in front of Masuda like he’s expecting him to move. And Masuda thinks this is kind of cataclysmic for his plan, because in his mind, Tegoshi Yuya is a heartless monster who eats pretty young girls for dinner. He’s not a sweet looking young man who helps old ladies carry their groceries up two flights of stairs.
There’s an awkward stretch of silence, during which Tegoshi watches him blankly while Masuda inwardly scrambles. After a long moment, Tegoshi jingles his keys and smiles, and Masuda thinks that that only makes it worse, because he has a very pretty smile that makes Masuda’s stomach do a strange kind of flip-flop.
“Can I help you?” Tegoshi asks, and dear lord, his voice is better than his smile.
“I… um…” Masuda replies, quite eloquently. Tegoshi smiles wider, in a sort of way that says he thinks this is cute, and Masuda feels his face color shamelessly. “I’m… um… here to kill you.”
Foot… mouth… bad, he thinks to himself right after, and it’s with more than a little bit of alarm that he realizes that that wasn’t really a proper sentence.
To his credit, Tegoshi looks unperturbed by this statement. He simply tilts his head in a way that’s almost unbearably attractive and says, in a way that suggests he might simply be inviting Masuda for tea, “Okay then. Should we go inside?”
And Masuda nods, because it occurs to him that it would be terribly impolite to attempt to murder someone in the hallway outside their apartment. And, well, the doorway is rather uncomfortable to sit against. So he stands, and he and Tegoshi do an awkward kind of dance while trying to rearrange themselves in order to unlock the door. Masuda is ashamed at the fact that this dance makes his heart flutter in a way that it shouldn’t. He’s also ashamed to be thinking that if this young man hadn’t just torn his little sister’s heart out, he might actually consider hooking up with him. Because he can kind of definitely see the appeal, especially with Tegoshi being all soft features and tousled hair and pretty eyes.
Inside the apartment is rather homey. Masuda barely notices it, a little bit too distracted with watching in mesmerized fascination at the way Tegoshi’s hips swing when he walks and inwardly hating himself because this is a very bad thing, but it’s definitely a home, and not just a place to live. Which Masuda has never encountered before in an apartment, but Tegoshi seems to be breaking all kinds of records for him today.
He turns down the offer for coffee, and then the one for tea, because he really thinks they should just get on with it so that Masuda can stop thinking about all the ways that Tegoshi might look good without his pants on. Tegoshi ignores him, cheerfully pouring them both a cup of coffee and tugging Masuda over to the couch, where he proceeds to prove that he has no sense of self-preservation or personal space and practically takes up residence on Masuda’s lap.
Or at least that’s how it seems to Masuda.
“So, you’re Massu,” Tegoshi says conversationally, taking a sip of his drink. Masuda is a little too distracted with the way their thighs are pressed together to properly make sense of it, and his response is rather belated.
“Uhh… Massu?” He repeats intelligently. Tegoshi looks unashamed.
“Sorry. Masuda. Massu is what I call you in my head,” he explains, like it’s perfectly reasonable. “You’re the big brother, right?” Masuda nods, because it seems like the right response, and Tegoshi smiles pleasantly. “She talks about you a lot.”
It takes him a moment to realize that ‘she’ is probably his sister. Which reminds him rather forcefully about why he’s here in the first place. He squirms, scoots down the couch a bit so that he can think a bit more clearly. “You’re, um… you’re Tegoshi, right?” Which is kind of a dumb way to start, but at least it’s better than sitting there and letting himself be partially molested.
Tegoshi smiles, apparently amused. “Yes,” he says, all the while creeping a hand along the cushions, clearly aiming for Masuda’s leg. Masuda is torn between letting him have his way and jumping away.
“She’s, um…” Masuda pauses, reaches out to remove the fingers attempting to not-so-subtly feel him up. Tegoshi pouts, and it’s a little bit enchanting. “She’s really… upset.”
He’s surprised at the response he gets from this. Tegoshi turns serious, expression going from playful to bothered. He steals his hand back and sighs, dropping his chin into his palm. “I know,” he says, sounding unhappy about this. “She texted me earlier.” Masuda blanches at this a little bit, because he thought she was smarter than that. “I wish there something I could do to help.”
Masuda sputters a bit, because that’s kind of a ridiculous thing to say when it’s obvious what the answer is. “You could take her back!” It’s not until Tegoshi looks at him oddly that he realizes he said it out loud. “I mean… yeah.”
“’Take her back’?” Tegoshi echoes questioningly. “We’d have to be dating for me to do that. And even then, it wouldn’t really help with this.”
“Not dating?” Masuda is incredulous, and rightfully so. “Then what do you call this last week?” Granted, a week is a short span for any sort of relationship, but still. Tegoshi could at least be a little more sensitive about it.
But instead, he gets a blank expression. “…really good sex?” Tegoshi offers, and Masuda is suddenly bluntly reminded of his rather intense desire to strangle this man. He spends a long moment trying to find an appropriate response to that, but he’s beaten to it when Tegoshi frowns, looking confused. “Wait.” He says, “What exactly are we talking about here? Just to make sure that we’re on the same page.”
Masuda wants to flail, but he thinks that doing so might make him look a little bit less serious, so he settles for glaring, which apparently isn’t affective at all. “We’re talking about you dumping my baby sister!”
Tegoshi, if anything, only looks more confused. “I didn’t dump her,” he protests. “We weren’t even seeing each other. I told you that.”
“But you slept with her-“
“Yes.” Tegoshi nods, apparently not understanding why Masuda is so upset over this. “Once. A week ago.” He looks vaguely troubled. “She really didn’t tell you about this?” Masuda looks a little sheepish at this, because in all honesty, she didn’t really tell him anything; he’d put the pieces together himself. Tegoshi sighs at Masuda’s expression, looks vaguely disappointed, and scoots back a bit on the couch to give them room. Masuda is a little surprised at this, but not ungrateful; it’s a little hard to think with the other man so close.
“We only had sex once,” Tegoshi explains. “And she’s really nice, don’t get me wrong, but your sister really isn’t my type.”
“But… you-“
“-hooked up with her once, yeah.” Tegoshi shrugs. “She was cute, and crying, and needed someone to take advantage of. I wasn’t going to complain.” He smiles at Masuda’s somewhat scandalized expression, because it’s sort of cute. “She’s sweet, though. We traded numbers after…” A vague hand wave, because it’s pretty clear Masuda doesn’t want to hear the details.
“Then…” Masuda frowns, now thoroughly befuddled. His big brother instincts have been put to rest without killing anyone, and now he’s a little bit lost. He leans back against couch in a slouch, starring blankly at a photo frame on the coffee table, no doubt of Tegoshi and his mother. “I don’t get it. Why is she upset?”
Tegoshi sighs, picks up his nearly forgotten coffee cup and takes a drink, grimacing when he notes that it’s gotten cold. “She really didn’t tell you anything,” he repeats with a frown. Masuda shakes his head, a little bit miserable now. “She got rejected,” Tegoshi goes on, sounding honestly saddened by this. “Her crush; she confessed, and he rejected her. That’s why she’s upset.”
“…oh.” Masuda feels kind of useless right now, because he didn’t he know that she had a crush, let alone one that she was planning on confessing to, and that makes him feel sort of awful. Admittedly, he’s never been too terribly attentive when she talks, but still… this is the sort of thing he should know before he goes storming up four flights of stairs intent on assaulting someone that’s really rather enchanting.
Tegoshi smiles, reaches over to pat his knee in a surprisingly platonic fashion. “She’ll be over it in a few days. Don’t worry.” It’s really kind of sweet, actually, that he’s trying to make Masuda feel better. Not so sweet, however, when his hand remains on the knee and creeps upward.
He jumps, half yelping in surprise, and has to physically resist the urge to pull his legs up, feeling vaguely like his privacy is being invaded. “You’re really forward, aren’t you?”
Tegoshi looks disappointed, but obediently pulls his hand back. Masuda would probably feel a little bit better if he maybe sat on them too. “She… didn’t send you, did she?” When Masuda shakes his head, he pouts. “Damn. I thought… she’s always talking about setting us up.” That sounds more like a slip of the tongue than an actual complaint, but it’s still alarming.
“What?” He squeaks. “She what?”
Tegoshi smiles, a little bit devilishly. “Your little sister is a matchmaker in the making. She thinks we’d be a good pair.”
Well, he can’t really argue with that. But still. “…what?”
A laugh, and Masuda wants to think that it’s annoying and grating, just to be defiant, because it really sounds a little bit like an overly loud bell. “She’s not my-“
“-type,” Masuda echoes, wondering what that has to do with anything. The question pops into his mind almost immediately after, though, and it seems like the right one to ask. “…then what is your type?”
Tegoshi smiles, wide, pleased, and Masuda knows that that was the right question now. He leans forward, scoots down the couch, and suddenly he’s right there, fingers creeping over Masuda’s shirt in a way that’s actually really, really nice.
“Cute big brothers with a protective streak,” he says, voice dropping into a near purr. He’s really close now, nose brushing against Masuda’s cheek, breath against his lips, and Masuda is pretty sure he feels his brain stop functioning right around that moment.
“Um… okay,” He says, somewhat uselessly, and Tegoshi smiles again, and really, that’s the end of it, because the next second they’re kissing, slow and kind of sloppy, and Masuda thinks it’s really nice until Tegoshi’s tongue pokes at his lower lip, slides across it pleasantly slow, and then it becomes really fucking fantastic.
The only thing that ruins it is air, the need for it specifically, and it’s nearly torture to pull away from that, especially when his eyes flicker open -when did he close them, anyway?-and gets a good look of Tegoshi, who’s lips are swollen and eyes are half lidded and cheeks are flushed. He kind of wants to kiss him again, because it would probably be the greatest fucking thing in the whole damn world, but he doesn’t, because he’s Masuda, and that means that any moment of possible smoothness is immediately ruined by several following minutes of stuttering shyness.
Which starts now. “I, um… wow?”
Tegoshi laughs, absently fingers his collar in a way that’s ridiculously distracting. “Wow is good,” he says, sounding pleased.
“Wow is definitely good,” Masuda agrees somewhat blindly, smiling in a way that he’s pretty sure makes him look like a complete goof. But that’s okay, because he feels like a complete goof. Especially with Tegoshi in his arms like this, because they somehow shifted during the course of the kiss, and now he’s pressed up against Masuda’s side, Masuda’s arms around his waist and hips, and it’s kind of really amazing that they fit together so well. Tegoshi seems to agree, because he nuzzles at Masuda’s cheek in an adorable sort of way and seems perfectly happy to stay like that.
It’s right around then that Masuda comes back to himself. Remembers, at least vaguely, that he came here to defend his sister’s honor, only instead he’s making out with the person he was supposed to be defending her from, and he’d be a really, really terrible older brother if he left her alone at home to cry her eyes out over some bastard who turned her down. And even though it’s the hardest choice he’s ever had to make -seriously, it feels like it is-in the end his instincts to protect his baby sister outweigh his somewhat desperate want to press Tegoshi into the couch and fuck him senseless.
But only by a little bit.
Groaning at his own moral compass -because it’s really inconvenient at a time like this-he sighs, sets about untangling his limbs from Tegoshi’s. The other makes a sharp noise of protest, pouts when he’s physically lifted up and set aside, and crosses his arms somewhat petulantly. “You can’t be serious.”
Masuda smiles, because it’s a cute image; pats his hair in an attempt at pacifying him. “Big brothers with a protective streak, right?” He reminds, a little bit more in his element now that he’s had time to breathe. “I wouldn’t qualify if I didn’t go back to her.”
Tegoshi doesn’t seem too pleased with this logic, but he doesn’t argue further when Masuda stands up, even smiles a bit when he turns around and walks right into the coffee table. Masuda swears quietly as his shins ache, flushes a bit in embarrassment, makes to leave, but pauses at the last second. On impulse, he turns back, leans down, brushes his lips against Tegoshi’s.
It’s slow, gentle, far more chaste than the last one, but somehow it feels a little bit more meaningful. Tegoshi sighs into it, and it’s a startlingly sweet sound that makes Masuda’s knees quake just a little bit. A hand slips into his hair, plays lightly with the strands there, another slides across his chest, and he knows if he doesn’t stop then that he never will. They separate slowly, Masuda leading it, Tegoshi reluctantly allowing it. When they’re properly apart, they spend a moment, foreheads bumping, and Masuda can’t help but reach up and slide his thumb against Tegoshi’s lower lip, tracing the full contours with far too much attention.
“I’ll call you,” he promises after a moment, inwardly making a plan in his mind to steal his sister’s cellphone and get the number. She’d never let him live it down if he just asked.
Tegoshi pouts, leans up to steal one last kiss, and Masuda laughs into it, because it seems like the most natural thing in the world right now. He can’t believe that they just met under an hour ago; it seems like so much longer. And inwardly he grimaces at that, because it sounds like something from one of his sister’s shojo novels; sappy and girly and very, very true.
Tegoshi doesn’t walk him to the door, even though Masuda might like it if he did; he stays on the couch, elbow on his knee, chin in his palm, looking unhappy as Masuda slips on his shoes at the entry way. His frown deepens when the other peers over his shoulder and gives him one final smile before disappearing down the hall.
What Tegoshi doesn’t see is the way Masuda pauses at the front door, conflicted. He really does want to get back to his sister, because he likes to be there for her when she needs him, and even though right now she’d be better with their mother or one of her girlfriends, it makes him uncomfortable to think that he might be abandoning her. But on the other hand… Tegoshi, who is ridiculously tempting in his own right. And…
Oh hell. She has to learn to live without him sometime, doesn’t she?
He spins on his heel, nearly trips in the process, heads back up the hall and peeks out the doorway there, smiling again when he catches sight of Tegoshi, still pouting on the couch, clearly displeased.
“Tegoshi,” he says, and the named man peeks up, face brightening. It’s an endearing image, one that Masuda thinks he’ll hold onto for a while. He fidgets, awkward, stumbles over his words as he finally asks, “Do you want to… get some coffee or something?”
He thinks that maybe he should be a little bit afraid of the near-predatory look he’s given in response.
“We already had coffee,” Tegoshi reminds him cheerfully, and that’s about all the warning Masuda gets before he pounces.
But then, he’s not really complaining about that.