[FIC] NewS - Tripping on the Catwalk
Title: Tripping on the Catwalk
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi
Rating: PG/PG-13 (Can't think of specifics)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: A few months after he starts working at the studio, Masuda comes in to find it in the worst state of disarray that he’s ever seen.
A/N: Love goes out to wagahaiwaneko for the edit work and title (sort of?), as well as to yuukarin for attempting to do the same thing XD Love you both. Next fic = probably a smut fic, although I'm not making any guarantees.
Masuda is one of Kato’s oldest friends. They went to the same school -Masuda being a year older and a grade higher-and lived side by side for most of their lives, so a friendship was inevitable, if only because of a shared history between the two. When Masuda graduates, Kato attends his party and the two sneak away after a bit and talk in low, quiet voices about the future.
“I want to go to university,” Kato tells him, playing with a blade of grass, looking awkward. “I want be a lawyer.”
Masuda smiles and tells him he’ll do well. He hasn’t actually put much thought into his own future; just that he wants to dance, and that he doesn’t like the idea of school. High school had been hard enough; he doesn’t want to put himself through that again. He figures he’ll make sense of it all later, when the time comes.
Kato frowns when he says this, disapproving, but that’s just how Kato is, so Masuda doesn’t pay it much mind.
“I’ll be fine,” he says simply, and at the time, he believes it.
~***~
Several years later, Masuda comes to the difficult decision to admit that he really isn’t fine. He’s in his twenties now, working full time at a small coffee shop that, in two weeks, will be closing its doors for good and leaving him without a job. And this is a serious problem, because Masuda can barely afford the bills for his tiny one room studio apartment, and he’s already behind on the rent.
Calling Kato is a last ditch effort, one that he’s embarrassed to have to take, but desperate enough that it seems like his only option.
“We need some help down at the studio,” Kato tells him over the phone, and Masuda breathes a sigh of relief. “It won’t be too glamorous, and the pay is kind of shitty, but it should keep you going until you can find something better.”
Masuda is fairly certain he’s never been so excited to be earning minimum wage.
~***~
Kato works as a photographer for a small, slowly expanding studio. He’s still in school, studying hard to become the lawyer that he’s always wanted to be, but he got lucky in his sophomore year in college because of his talent with a camera, and now he’s well on his way to earning himself a job at a big name company.
Masuda has a feeling he’s going to be famous someday, but whenever he broaches the subject, Kato snorts and rolls his eyes and tells him to stop.
The position he gets is just as Kato described; mostly grunt work with a salary barely big enough to meet his needs. The official title is “Assistant to the Photographers”, but he’s basically a glorified lackey, spending most of his time on his feet, fetching things and delivering messages.
He gets lucky in that he ends up working with Kato more than anyone else, which he thanks his stars for. Kato understands him and his odd little quirks, handles them with practiced ease, something that the other photographers can’t seem to manage.
It’s a little bit strange to be working for Kato. Not bad strange, but odd strange. Kato isn’t particularly demanding, is patient and good enough with words that Masuda doesn’t get confused by his orders, but this is a different side of him that Masuda isn’t used to seeing. He’s cool and in control and very professional, and it’s kind of interesting for the older man to compare this version to the awkward, gangly boy that he grew up with. All in all, he can admit that he’s proud of the person Kato has grown into.
He just won’t ever tell Kato that.
~***~
A few months after he starts working at the studio, Masuda comes in to find it in the worst state of disarray that he’s ever seen.
It takes him a good half hour to track down Kato, after being put through the worst run around he’s ever experienced, and when he does, he’s surprised to find the usually calm and pleasant younger man in a bit of a panic, his shirt untucked and a slew of files spread out in front of him with Koyama, one of the studio’s managers, leaning over his shoulder. The two of them are talking rapidly, and Masuda decides he’ll just leave the coffee and go hide somewhere until the insanity has passed.
Before he can get to the door, though, Kato catches sight of him, leaps to his feet and barks out a few random orders that Masuda doesn’t catch before bolting, looking harried and in desperate need of a nap. Masuda watches him go in concern.
“Don’t mind him,” Koyama tells him kindly, reaching for his cup. Masuda always brings him one, because Koyama has always been pleasant with him. “He’s just a little stressed.”
“I can see that,” Masuda agrees, glancing at Koyama curiously. “Everyone else is, too. What’s going on?”
Koyama takes a sip of his coffee, grimaces at the bitterness, but continues drinking. “We got contacted this morning by a big name fashion company; they want to use us for the photos of their new fall line.” He smiles in the slow, easy way that Masuda has come to be familiar with. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
“Huh,” Masuda doesn’t quite see the importance of this, or why it warrants the entire company going crazy, but after a point shrugs his shoulders.
He’s not being paid to understand the nuances of these artists.
~***~
The fashion company sends it own models. Masuda assumes this is a good thing, since models cost money to hire, and the less they have to spend on this particular job, the more they earn, which means the better chance he has of getting a bonus. (Koyama laughs when he says this, and adds on that they’ll also be working with professional models, unlike the ragtag bunch they hire off of subways and college classes, which will leave the photographers in a better mood. Masuda likes this idea quite a bit.)
Kato ends up being charged with the adult male section of the line, something that he gripes over with the others, but to Masuda admits that he prefers working with men anyway; female models are too fickle and troublesome, in his opinion.
The first week and a half is spent on making preparations; deciding on outfits and hair styles and set designs, and Masuda spends most of it playing fetch for six people at once and trying to keep his head down to avoid any collateral damage. Everyone is in a bad mood during this time, overly stressed and on a short fuse, and they like to snap at him when that fuse finally wears down.
But despite the stress and difficulties, Masuda is smart enough to know that this is just the calm before the storm.
He just doesn’t realize how bad the storm really will be.
~***~
The first time Masuda sees him, he’s coming back from a coffee run, dodging set pieces and lighting equipment and anything else that might be in his way with practiced ease. Kato hasn’t actually asked for it, but he’s been up since four in the morning, and Masuda recognizes the signs that come with him losing energy. Coffee is a quick fix, but it’s the easiest one available. Masuda will get him lunch later, which will help a bit more.
He comes in at the tail end of this particular shoot; he’s missed most of it, having left when they were just beginning to sort things out. The line at Kato’s favorite coffee shop had been long.
It’s at this moment that he catches his first glimpse, just as he’s squeezing by two set pieces that are crowding the hall, coffee balanced precariously as he tries to slip by. He glances up at that moment, and he sees Kato standing in front of a carefully designed backdrop, camera in hand… and just past him stands the prettiest boy that Masuda has ever seen in his life.
He’s posed, casually leaning to one side, head tilted at just such an angle that his hair -a brownish blonde color that Masuda wants to call caramel-shields one eye from view, and he’s giving the camera a look that can really only be described as sensual.
And, for just a moment, Masuda thinks that that look is directed at him.
The resulting accident is quite possibly the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to him. Not only does he manage to trip over his own feet and land flat on his face, but he also, in the process, knocks down three lighting props, a table holding a great deal of expensive equipment, and a coat rack that’s in the process of being varnished for the next shoot.
And, on top of it all, he ends up wearing the coffee all over his shirt.
The silence that follows is awkward and nerve wracking. Masuda sits in the wake of the disaster he’s just created, wide-eyed and in shock, everyone around him staring in a way that makes him deeply uncomfortable. Kato is looking at him with a look that says he’s seriously thinking about murdering and disowning him, and maybe not in that order.
But what catches, and holds, Masuda’s attention is the boy, who takes one look at him -soaked in coffee and looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car-and giggles.
And that giggle makes Masuda think that it might be okay to lose his job, if only because he got to hear it, and see the smile that came with it. For all of three seconds, before the full extent of what just occurred hits him and he realizes that he could lose his job because of this.
And then he starts to panic, the boy forgotten.
~***~
Much to Masuda’s relief, he doesn’t get fired for his little mishap.
He does, however, get restricted to working in the office space above the studio for the duration of the shoot, something that doesn’t really bother him, considering the fact that he still can’t get the boy-whose name he’s learned is Tegoshi-out of his head. And it’s been three days.
Masuda’s not sure what it is about him that he finds so fascinating-maybe his smile, his eyes, maybe just the way he somehow managed to seamlessly shift from sultry to sweet in the span of a few short seconds-but whatever it is, it’s strong, to the point of distraction. And that’s a problem, because although Masuda’s job usually doesn’t require much focus or thought, it does require him to be able to put one foot in front of the other without tripping in the process, and he’s been lacking that ability ever since the initial encounter.
So working in the office is not a bad thing, as far as he’s concerned. At the very least here he can’t ruin two weeks of preparation because he can’t pay attention to where he’s walking.
It is, however, significantly more boring without Kato around, and the view is no where near as good without Tegoshi.
Oh well, he thinks somewhat sulkily to himself as he makes a mail run, trade offs.
~***~
Two days later finds Masuda on the roof of the building, people watching as he pulls out his bento. It’s become a habit for him to find his way up here during lunch; it’s the one consistently quiet part of the whole studio, and Masuda likes the fact that coming up here always makes him feel a little calmer.
He does kind of regret the fact that he can’t bring a proper bento with him, however. He never has time to eat a full meal during his lunch break-something he mourns everyday-so instead, he ends up having to make do with a few nikuman and an onigiri pack he picked up at a convenience store.
It’s kind of pitiful, really.
He always eats the onigiri first, mostly because the taste is bland and uninteresting, and he’d rather wash that away with the homemade nikuman than the other way around. He’s just about to take a bite out of the last steamed bun when he hears, “That looks good…”
And Masuda jerks, startled and surprised, sending the bento-thankfully empty-clattering to the floor. He thinks he can almost feel his heart leap out of his chest at the shock, and it’s not a pleasant feeling, one hand coming up to press against where it should be, just to make sure that it’s still there and beating, albeit a little too fast.
He turns to face his assaulter, and is somehow unsurprised at what he sees.
Tegoshi giggles, one hand brushing his mouth, as though to hide his mirth. His eyes, however, give him away, sparkling in bright amusement. “Sorry,” he says, but Masuda can tell that he really isn’t.
“Don’t…!” Masuda starts, fully intent on snapping at him, only to stop at the last second, unable to continue under Tegoshi’s wide, too-innocent eyes. Instead, he finishes lamely, “…you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
Tegoshi smiles, looking at least slightly apologetic, and comes closer, which is a very bad thing, because the instant he’s within Masuda’s personal space-uninvited but not necessarily unwanted-the older man’s mind goes blank, and all he can really think about is the fact that Tegoshi looks really fantastic in that outfit, all dark and soft clothes that fit snuggly against his body. A body that is so close Masuda can nearly feel the heat coming off of it, a sensation that’s rather intoxicating.
So intoxicating, in fact, that he almost doesn’t hear Tegoshi’s next question, he’s so distracted. “So, what’s your name?”
There are fingers dancing across his forearm and wrist, so feather light he almost can’t even feel them, and Masuda thinks that if Tegoshi keeps that up, he’s going to have some kind of unfortunate accident, probably ending with him tumbling off the roof. “I… um…”
Tegoshi laughs, because apparently his inability to form a complete sentence is amusing. “I saw you before. You were the one with the coffee, right?” Masuda looks mortified at the reminder, promptly another giggle. “I wanted to talk to you, but you didn’t show up again…” He sounds vaguely disappointed by this, like the lack of Masuda’s presence has made him sad, and Masuda actually feels a little guilty… but only for as long as it takes Tegoshi’s fingers to slide across his shoulders and curl in his collar; then he goes back to being nervous and distracted. “So, what’s your name?”
“I… Masu…” Masuda feels his throat close up on him midsentence, clears his throat, “Masuda…”
“Masuda,” Tegoshi repeats, as though he’s testing it, and then once more, “Ma-su-da… Massu?” He looks up at the other man curiously, as though asking for permission, and Masuda feels his face color awkwardly.
“Sure,” he squeaks, and Tegoshi beams.
~***~
The next week is an exercise in control for Masuda. Tegoshi seems to have made it his mission in life to personally hunt him down and turn him into a fumbling mess at every opportunity, and this makes it increasingly hard to do his work. If it were anywhere else, he would have enjoyed the attention-Tegoshi is, after all, a cute professional model who happens to have a great ass (but Masuda wouldn’t know, because he hasn’t been looking)-but this is his job.
A job that he is dangerously close to losing if the younger boy keeps it up.
Masuda is smart enough to know that the only reason he still has work is because Kato has personally vouched for him repeatedly, despite the ridiculous amount of accidents he’s had in the last week, and he doesn’t want his friend’s work to be in vain. But today is proving to be the hardest yet. Three times he’s run into Tegoshi-once on the way to the washroom, once as he was coming back from delivering mail, and once when he was supposed to be cleaning up the conference room-and three times, he’s nearly snapped, grabbed the younger boy and kissed him senseless. The temptation is getting hard to resist, and Masuda…
Masuda thinks he’s losing his mind, just a little.
~***~
That Thursday, he reaches his breaking point.
The shoot wasn’t supposed to last this long, but they’ve pushed back the completion date another week and a half due to various issues around the office area (read: Masuda being unable to keep his head screwed on straight). This means another week and a half of torture for the errand boy, and this is what he’s mourning as he heads down to the studio, an air of defeat around him.
He’s still not supposed to be here, but the upstairs copier has been broken for almost a year, and the studio people refuse to give up theirs, on the sliver of an off-chance that they might need to copy something. Masuda isn’t usually told to make copies, but today they’re short staffed upstairs, so he’s gotten a temporary promotion: glorified secretary.
Unfortunately, the copier is located in a tiny corner at the exact opposite end of the studio as the staircase, meaning that Masuda has to pass by the set area in order to get to it. He just hopes that Tegoshi has the day off or something.
Of course, given his luck, it only makes sense that he’s there. And in the middle of a shoot, on top of it.
Masuda tries to sneak by without getting noticed, doing his best to not look at Tegoshi while he casually sends the camera smoldering looks. This doesn’t work, because in studiously not looking at Tegoshi, he fails to watch where his feet are going, and manages to trip over a cable, landing with a clatter.
He's lucky in that the only thing damaged this time around is his ego, but the noise is enough to attract Tegoshi’s attention, and by the time Masuda gets back to his feet, the younger is watching him with a tiny, very inappropriate smile that makes the older feel a familiar sort of heat pool in his belly.
And that is apparently the final straw.
Having reached his limit, Masuda drops the papers he’s supposed to be copying, shoves past Kato and the other photographers, grabs Tegoshi by the wrist-earning a confused, wide eyed look from the model that only makes it worse-and drags him to the nearest stairwell.
~***~
“You!” This is probably not the best way to begin his big, dramatic speech, but apparently it’s effective, because Tegoshi squirms away and somehow manages to look both terrified and amused as Masuda pushes him against the wall of the stairwell. They’re on the roof at the moment, and it’s late enough in the afternoon that the sun is starting to dip down past the skyscrapers.
It would be really romantic, if Masuda wasn’t this close to strangling the boy in front of him.
“You are the worst tease I’ve ever met!” Masuda kind of wants to shake him, just to get his point across. “Do you ever realize how crazy you’ve been driving me? All week! I can’t even focus because of you!” He has more to say, a whole list of things that he wants to rant about, but at that moment, the light hits Tegoshi in such a way that makes him look pretty damn beautiful, and Masuda can’t really think of anything he meant to bring up anymore, so instead, he makes a helpless sort of noise and pressed forward, capturing the younger’s lips in a heated kiss that feels a little bit like the whole world is exploding around them.
And really, he has to wonder why he didn’t do this earlier, because he’s pretty sure this is the smartest thing he’s done in a long, long time.
When he pulls away, breathless and a little bit lightheaded, he sighs, drops his head onto Tegoshi’s shoulder, coming back to his senses all at once. The younger pats his back soothingly, curls the fingers of his other hand into Masuda’s hair gently. “Feel better now?” Masuda nods limply against his neck, feeling far more focused than he has all week. Tegoshi chuckles. “What took you so long? I’ve been dropping hints for ages.”
Masuda lets out a weak mewl at that, lifts his head and sidesteps Tegoshi so that he’s leaning against the wall as well, slides down into a crouch, his brain catching up with his body. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” He sounds a little bit hopeless, reaches out to grab Tegoshi’s wrist, tugs the younger one until he’s sitting beside him.
Tegoshi looks a little reluctant. “…you did kidnap me,” he offers with a shrug.
Masuda kind of wants to cry. “In the middle of a photo shoot.” Groaning, he presses his face into his knees. “I’m going to lose my job!” It comes out as a wail, and Tegoshi laughs, earning himself a glare. The model looks unimpressed by it, reaches out to stroke the back of Masuda’s neck gently.
“So?” He says casually, like this isn’t the end of Masuda’s world. “Massu’s better than this job. And anyway, you kind of suck at it.” Tegoshi actually laughs at Masuda’s halfhearted attempts at looking disgruntled, reaches out to poke at the older’s cheek until he earns a smile. “You’re too pretty to be an errand boy.”
Masuda pouts. “I’m not pretty,” he protests weakly, going completely ignored.
“You are,” Tegoshi tells him, bumping their knees together. “You could be a model too.” He brightens, looking adorably cheerful at the thought. “You could work with me! The agency is looking for new faces, and they’ve been trying to get me a partner for a while now.” Masuda thinks he’s going a little too fast; he can barely keep up. “I think we look good together, don’t you?”
The most Masuda can really think to do is nod. He’s still having trouble comprehending the “you should be a model” bit.
Tegoshi beams, apparently taking that as an agreement. “Great! We can be partners!” He grins, looking ridiculously pleased. “TegoMasu…” he tries, apparently liking the sound of it, if his smile is anything to go by.
And really, the entire situation is insane. Tegoshi’s ‘plan’ is insane. Masuda knows that he’d never make it as a model; he knows that this is going to fall through and he’s going to be left right back where he started; without a job, nearly homeless, begging his best friend for help. But, oddly enough, the only thing can think to protest about is, “…why does your name get to be first?”
Tegoshi laughs, leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. “MasuTego, then,”
And somehow, that seems to make it better.
Fandom: NewS
Pairing: Masuda/Tegoshi
Rating: PG/PG-13 (Can't think of specifics)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: A few months after he starts working at the studio, Masuda comes in to find it in the worst state of disarray that he’s ever seen.
A/N: Love goes out to wagahaiwaneko for the edit work and title (sort of?), as well as to yuukarin for attempting to do the same thing XD Love you both. Next fic = probably a smut fic, although I'm not making any guarantees.
Masuda is one of Kato’s oldest friends. They went to the same school -Masuda being a year older and a grade higher-and lived side by side for most of their lives, so a friendship was inevitable, if only because of a shared history between the two. When Masuda graduates, Kato attends his party and the two sneak away after a bit and talk in low, quiet voices about the future.
“I want to go to university,” Kato tells him, playing with a blade of grass, looking awkward. “I want be a lawyer.”
Masuda smiles and tells him he’ll do well. He hasn’t actually put much thought into his own future; just that he wants to dance, and that he doesn’t like the idea of school. High school had been hard enough; he doesn’t want to put himself through that again. He figures he’ll make sense of it all later, when the time comes.
Kato frowns when he says this, disapproving, but that’s just how Kato is, so Masuda doesn’t pay it much mind.
“I’ll be fine,” he says simply, and at the time, he believes it.
~***~
Several years later, Masuda comes to the difficult decision to admit that he really isn’t fine. He’s in his twenties now, working full time at a small coffee shop that, in two weeks, will be closing its doors for good and leaving him without a job. And this is a serious problem, because Masuda can barely afford the bills for his tiny one room studio apartment, and he’s already behind on the rent.
Calling Kato is a last ditch effort, one that he’s embarrassed to have to take, but desperate enough that it seems like his only option.
“We need some help down at the studio,” Kato tells him over the phone, and Masuda breathes a sigh of relief. “It won’t be too glamorous, and the pay is kind of shitty, but it should keep you going until you can find something better.”
Masuda is fairly certain he’s never been so excited to be earning minimum wage.
~***~
Kato works as a photographer for a small, slowly expanding studio. He’s still in school, studying hard to become the lawyer that he’s always wanted to be, but he got lucky in his sophomore year in college because of his talent with a camera, and now he’s well on his way to earning himself a job at a big name company.
Masuda has a feeling he’s going to be famous someday, but whenever he broaches the subject, Kato snorts and rolls his eyes and tells him to stop.
The position he gets is just as Kato described; mostly grunt work with a salary barely big enough to meet his needs. The official title is “Assistant to the Photographers”, but he’s basically a glorified lackey, spending most of his time on his feet, fetching things and delivering messages.
He gets lucky in that he ends up working with Kato more than anyone else, which he thanks his stars for. Kato understands him and his odd little quirks, handles them with practiced ease, something that the other photographers can’t seem to manage.
It’s a little bit strange to be working for Kato. Not bad strange, but odd strange. Kato isn’t particularly demanding, is patient and good enough with words that Masuda doesn’t get confused by his orders, but this is a different side of him that Masuda isn’t used to seeing. He’s cool and in control and very professional, and it’s kind of interesting for the older man to compare this version to the awkward, gangly boy that he grew up with. All in all, he can admit that he’s proud of the person Kato has grown into.
He just won’t ever tell Kato that.
~***~
A few months after he starts working at the studio, Masuda comes in to find it in the worst state of disarray that he’s ever seen.
It takes him a good half hour to track down Kato, after being put through the worst run around he’s ever experienced, and when he does, he’s surprised to find the usually calm and pleasant younger man in a bit of a panic, his shirt untucked and a slew of files spread out in front of him with Koyama, one of the studio’s managers, leaning over his shoulder. The two of them are talking rapidly, and Masuda decides he’ll just leave the coffee and go hide somewhere until the insanity has passed.
Before he can get to the door, though, Kato catches sight of him, leaps to his feet and barks out a few random orders that Masuda doesn’t catch before bolting, looking harried and in desperate need of a nap. Masuda watches him go in concern.
“Don’t mind him,” Koyama tells him kindly, reaching for his cup. Masuda always brings him one, because Koyama has always been pleasant with him. “He’s just a little stressed.”
“I can see that,” Masuda agrees, glancing at Koyama curiously. “Everyone else is, too. What’s going on?”
Koyama takes a sip of his coffee, grimaces at the bitterness, but continues drinking. “We got contacted this morning by a big name fashion company; they want to use us for the photos of their new fall line.” He smiles in the slow, easy way that Masuda has come to be familiar with. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
“Huh,” Masuda doesn’t quite see the importance of this, or why it warrants the entire company going crazy, but after a point shrugs his shoulders.
He’s not being paid to understand the nuances of these artists.
~***~
The fashion company sends it own models. Masuda assumes this is a good thing, since models cost money to hire, and the less they have to spend on this particular job, the more they earn, which means the better chance he has of getting a bonus. (Koyama laughs when he says this, and adds on that they’ll also be working with professional models, unlike the ragtag bunch they hire off of subways and college classes, which will leave the photographers in a better mood. Masuda likes this idea quite a bit.)
Kato ends up being charged with the adult male section of the line, something that he gripes over with the others, but to Masuda admits that he prefers working with men anyway; female models are too fickle and troublesome, in his opinion.
The first week and a half is spent on making preparations; deciding on outfits and hair styles and set designs, and Masuda spends most of it playing fetch for six people at once and trying to keep his head down to avoid any collateral damage. Everyone is in a bad mood during this time, overly stressed and on a short fuse, and they like to snap at him when that fuse finally wears down.
But despite the stress and difficulties, Masuda is smart enough to know that this is just the calm before the storm.
He just doesn’t realize how bad the storm really will be.
~***~
The first time Masuda sees him, he’s coming back from a coffee run, dodging set pieces and lighting equipment and anything else that might be in his way with practiced ease. Kato hasn’t actually asked for it, but he’s been up since four in the morning, and Masuda recognizes the signs that come with him losing energy. Coffee is a quick fix, but it’s the easiest one available. Masuda will get him lunch later, which will help a bit more.
He comes in at the tail end of this particular shoot; he’s missed most of it, having left when they were just beginning to sort things out. The line at Kato’s favorite coffee shop had been long.
It’s at this moment that he catches his first glimpse, just as he’s squeezing by two set pieces that are crowding the hall, coffee balanced precariously as he tries to slip by. He glances up at that moment, and he sees Kato standing in front of a carefully designed backdrop, camera in hand… and just past him stands the prettiest boy that Masuda has ever seen in his life.
He’s posed, casually leaning to one side, head tilted at just such an angle that his hair -a brownish blonde color that Masuda wants to call caramel-shields one eye from view, and he’s giving the camera a look that can really only be described as sensual.
And, for just a moment, Masuda thinks that that look is directed at him.
The resulting accident is quite possibly the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to him. Not only does he manage to trip over his own feet and land flat on his face, but he also, in the process, knocks down three lighting props, a table holding a great deal of expensive equipment, and a coat rack that’s in the process of being varnished for the next shoot.
And, on top of it all, he ends up wearing the coffee all over his shirt.
The silence that follows is awkward and nerve wracking. Masuda sits in the wake of the disaster he’s just created, wide-eyed and in shock, everyone around him staring in a way that makes him deeply uncomfortable. Kato is looking at him with a look that says he’s seriously thinking about murdering and disowning him, and maybe not in that order.
But what catches, and holds, Masuda’s attention is the boy, who takes one look at him -soaked in coffee and looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car-and giggles.
And that giggle makes Masuda think that it might be okay to lose his job, if only because he got to hear it, and see the smile that came with it. For all of three seconds, before the full extent of what just occurred hits him and he realizes that he could lose his job because of this.
And then he starts to panic, the boy forgotten.
~***~
Much to Masuda’s relief, he doesn’t get fired for his little mishap.
He does, however, get restricted to working in the office space above the studio for the duration of the shoot, something that doesn’t really bother him, considering the fact that he still can’t get the boy-whose name he’s learned is Tegoshi-out of his head. And it’s been three days.
Masuda’s not sure what it is about him that he finds so fascinating-maybe his smile, his eyes, maybe just the way he somehow managed to seamlessly shift from sultry to sweet in the span of a few short seconds-but whatever it is, it’s strong, to the point of distraction. And that’s a problem, because although Masuda’s job usually doesn’t require much focus or thought, it does require him to be able to put one foot in front of the other without tripping in the process, and he’s been lacking that ability ever since the initial encounter.
So working in the office is not a bad thing, as far as he’s concerned. At the very least here he can’t ruin two weeks of preparation because he can’t pay attention to where he’s walking.
It is, however, significantly more boring without Kato around, and the view is no where near as good without Tegoshi.
Oh well, he thinks somewhat sulkily to himself as he makes a mail run, trade offs.
~***~
Two days later finds Masuda on the roof of the building, people watching as he pulls out his bento. It’s become a habit for him to find his way up here during lunch; it’s the one consistently quiet part of the whole studio, and Masuda likes the fact that coming up here always makes him feel a little calmer.
He does kind of regret the fact that he can’t bring a proper bento with him, however. He never has time to eat a full meal during his lunch break-something he mourns everyday-so instead, he ends up having to make do with a few nikuman and an onigiri pack he picked up at a convenience store.
It’s kind of pitiful, really.
He always eats the onigiri first, mostly because the taste is bland and uninteresting, and he’d rather wash that away with the homemade nikuman than the other way around. He’s just about to take a bite out of the last steamed bun when he hears, “That looks good…”
And Masuda jerks, startled and surprised, sending the bento-thankfully empty-clattering to the floor. He thinks he can almost feel his heart leap out of his chest at the shock, and it’s not a pleasant feeling, one hand coming up to press against where it should be, just to make sure that it’s still there and beating, albeit a little too fast.
He turns to face his assaulter, and is somehow unsurprised at what he sees.
Tegoshi giggles, one hand brushing his mouth, as though to hide his mirth. His eyes, however, give him away, sparkling in bright amusement. “Sorry,” he says, but Masuda can tell that he really isn’t.
“Don’t…!” Masuda starts, fully intent on snapping at him, only to stop at the last second, unable to continue under Tegoshi’s wide, too-innocent eyes. Instead, he finishes lamely, “…you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
Tegoshi smiles, looking at least slightly apologetic, and comes closer, which is a very bad thing, because the instant he’s within Masuda’s personal space-uninvited but not necessarily unwanted-the older man’s mind goes blank, and all he can really think about is the fact that Tegoshi looks really fantastic in that outfit, all dark and soft clothes that fit snuggly against his body. A body that is so close Masuda can nearly feel the heat coming off of it, a sensation that’s rather intoxicating.
So intoxicating, in fact, that he almost doesn’t hear Tegoshi’s next question, he’s so distracted. “So, what’s your name?”
There are fingers dancing across his forearm and wrist, so feather light he almost can’t even feel them, and Masuda thinks that if Tegoshi keeps that up, he’s going to have some kind of unfortunate accident, probably ending with him tumbling off the roof. “I… um…”
Tegoshi laughs, because apparently his inability to form a complete sentence is amusing. “I saw you before. You were the one with the coffee, right?” Masuda looks mortified at the reminder, promptly another giggle. “I wanted to talk to you, but you didn’t show up again…” He sounds vaguely disappointed by this, like the lack of Masuda’s presence has made him sad, and Masuda actually feels a little guilty… but only for as long as it takes Tegoshi’s fingers to slide across his shoulders and curl in his collar; then he goes back to being nervous and distracted. “So, what’s your name?”
“I… Masu…” Masuda feels his throat close up on him midsentence, clears his throat, “Masuda…”
“Masuda,” Tegoshi repeats, as though he’s testing it, and then once more, “Ma-su-da… Massu?” He looks up at the other man curiously, as though asking for permission, and Masuda feels his face color awkwardly.
“Sure,” he squeaks, and Tegoshi beams.
~***~
The next week is an exercise in control for Masuda. Tegoshi seems to have made it his mission in life to personally hunt him down and turn him into a fumbling mess at every opportunity, and this makes it increasingly hard to do his work. If it were anywhere else, he would have enjoyed the attention-Tegoshi is, after all, a cute professional model who happens to have a great ass (but Masuda wouldn’t know, because he hasn’t been looking)-but this is his job.
A job that he is dangerously close to losing if the younger boy keeps it up.
Masuda is smart enough to know that the only reason he still has work is because Kato has personally vouched for him repeatedly, despite the ridiculous amount of accidents he’s had in the last week, and he doesn’t want his friend’s work to be in vain. But today is proving to be the hardest yet. Three times he’s run into Tegoshi-once on the way to the washroom, once as he was coming back from delivering mail, and once when he was supposed to be cleaning up the conference room-and three times, he’s nearly snapped, grabbed the younger boy and kissed him senseless. The temptation is getting hard to resist, and Masuda…
Masuda thinks he’s losing his mind, just a little.
~***~
That Thursday, he reaches his breaking point.
The shoot wasn’t supposed to last this long, but they’ve pushed back the completion date another week and a half due to various issues around the office area (read: Masuda being unable to keep his head screwed on straight). This means another week and a half of torture for the errand boy, and this is what he’s mourning as he heads down to the studio, an air of defeat around him.
He’s still not supposed to be here, but the upstairs copier has been broken for almost a year, and the studio people refuse to give up theirs, on the sliver of an off-chance that they might need to copy something. Masuda isn’t usually told to make copies, but today they’re short staffed upstairs, so he’s gotten a temporary promotion: glorified secretary.
Unfortunately, the copier is located in a tiny corner at the exact opposite end of the studio as the staircase, meaning that Masuda has to pass by the set area in order to get to it. He just hopes that Tegoshi has the day off or something.
Of course, given his luck, it only makes sense that he’s there. And in the middle of a shoot, on top of it.
Masuda tries to sneak by without getting noticed, doing his best to not look at Tegoshi while he casually sends the camera smoldering looks. This doesn’t work, because in studiously not looking at Tegoshi, he fails to watch where his feet are going, and manages to trip over a cable, landing with a clatter.
He's lucky in that the only thing damaged this time around is his ego, but the noise is enough to attract Tegoshi’s attention, and by the time Masuda gets back to his feet, the younger is watching him with a tiny, very inappropriate smile that makes the older feel a familiar sort of heat pool in his belly.
And that is apparently the final straw.
Having reached his limit, Masuda drops the papers he’s supposed to be copying, shoves past Kato and the other photographers, grabs Tegoshi by the wrist-earning a confused, wide eyed look from the model that only makes it worse-and drags him to the nearest stairwell.
~***~
“You!” This is probably not the best way to begin his big, dramatic speech, but apparently it’s effective, because Tegoshi squirms away and somehow manages to look both terrified and amused as Masuda pushes him against the wall of the stairwell. They’re on the roof at the moment, and it’s late enough in the afternoon that the sun is starting to dip down past the skyscrapers.
It would be really romantic, if Masuda wasn’t this close to strangling the boy in front of him.
“You are the worst tease I’ve ever met!” Masuda kind of wants to shake him, just to get his point across. “Do you ever realize how crazy you’ve been driving me? All week! I can’t even focus because of you!” He has more to say, a whole list of things that he wants to rant about, but at that moment, the light hits Tegoshi in such a way that makes him look pretty damn beautiful, and Masuda can’t really think of anything he meant to bring up anymore, so instead, he makes a helpless sort of noise and pressed forward, capturing the younger’s lips in a heated kiss that feels a little bit like the whole world is exploding around them.
And really, he has to wonder why he didn’t do this earlier, because he’s pretty sure this is the smartest thing he’s done in a long, long time.
When he pulls away, breathless and a little bit lightheaded, he sighs, drops his head onto Tegoshi’s shoulder, coming back to his senses all at once. The younger pats his back soothingly, curls the fingers of his other hand into Masuda’s hair gently. “Feel better now?” Masuda nods limply against his neck, feeling far more focused than he has all week. Tegoshi chuckles. “What took you so long? I’ve been dropping hints for ages.”
Masuda lets out a weak mewl at that, lifts his head and sidesteps Tegoshi so that he’s leaning against the wall as well, slides down into a crouch, his brain catching up with his body. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” He sounds a little bit hopeless, reaches out to grab Tegoshi’s wrist, tugs the younger one until he’s sitting beside him.
Tegoshi looks a little reluctant. “…you did kidnap me,” he offers with a shrug.
Masuda kind of wants to cry. “In the middle of a photo shoot.” Groaning, he presses his face into his knees. “I’m going to lose my job!” It comes out as a wail, and Tegoshi laughs, earning himself a glare. The model looks unimpressed by it, reaches out to stroke the back of Masuda’s neck gently.
“So?” He says casually, like this isn’t the end of Masuda’s world. “Massu’s better than this job. And anyway, you kind of suck at it.” Tegoshi actually laughs at Masuda’s halfhearted attempts at looking disgruntled, reaches out to poke at the older’s cheek until he earns a smile. “You’re too pretty to be an errand boy.”
Masuda pouts. “I’m not pretty,” he protests weakly, going completely ignored.
“You are,” Tegoshi tells him, bumping their knees together. “You could be a model too.” He brightens, looking adorably cheerful at the thought. “You could work with me! The agency is looking for new faces, and they’ve been trying to get me a partner for a while now.” Masuda thinks he’s going a little too fast; he can barely keep up. “I think we look good together, don’t you?”
The most Masuda can really think to do is nod. He’s still having trouble comprehending the “you should be a model” bit.
Tegoshi beams, apparently taking that as an agreement. “Great! We can be partners!” He grins, looking ridiculously pleased. “TegoMasu…” he tries, apparently liking the sound of it, if his smile is anything to go by.
And really, the entire situation is insane. Tegoshi’s ‘plan’ is insane. Masuda knows that he’d never make it as a model; he knows that this is going to fall through and he’s going to be left right back where he started; without a job, nearly homeless, begging his best friend for help. But, oddly enough, the only thing can think to protest about is, “…why does your name get to be first?”
Tegoshi laughs, leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. “MasuTego, then,”
And somehow, that seems to make it better.