Prompt #13
13. Fight or Flight => Masamune/Kanetsugu
Kanetsugu blinked sleepily as he finally roused from his slumber, wincing slightly as he jolted his injured shoulder.
He yawned, stretching lightly and somehow managing to push himself upright with his uninjured side. One of his hands muffled the yawn out of ingrained habit whilst the other hand searched for the inner silk jacket that he had abandoned somewhere near his futon last night.
As his fingers came into contact with what certainly felt like the right material, Kanetsugu, eyes still barely open, shrugged out of his thin sleeping yukata, shivering slightly with the coolness that remained from the night just past.
“You’re really not a morning person are you?”
Kanetsugu, struggling to get his other arm through the slippery material, merely grunted in response.
Then the question seemed to actually register as his eyes shot open and his head whipped over to the direction the voice had come from.
A man dressed in a simple dark blue kimono was watching him, amused, from right next to his futon.
“W-w-wha?!” This obviously was a completely unexpected sight since the man on the futon flailed a little, completely awake now but still struggling to form coherent words.
The other man only quirked his lips upwards, the smirk familiar enough to reassure Kanetsugu’s subconscious enough for him to find his tongue, “Who are you and why are you in my room?”
Kanetsugu also regained enough of his thought process to reach for his sword. But he never got to it as the stranger in the room was already kneeling next to him on the futon, one knee firmly on the sheathed weapon, having obviously expected the action.
“A bit late for that isn’t it? You’re still as hopeless as ever Kanetsugu.” The sting from the other man’s words were soothed by the fond exasperation in his tone as he slid the sword out of Kanetsugu’s reach and leaned over to tug the dishevelled clothing into its right place.
Kanetsugu could only blink, confused by why he didn’t feel threatened by a complete stranger in his room and obeying the wordless command to thread his arm through the offered sleeve, “Do I know you?”
The man only spared a glance at him, but his lips were smiling once more “Ouch. That would hurt except that I’m a bit confused at what I’m doing here myself.”
“Huh?”
The stranger seemed ready to elaborate when the sound of arguing voices was heard from outside Kanetsugu’s tent. Both of them turned their heads to the source of the noise.
“I’m sorry Masamune-dono, I cannot let you enter. Kanetsugu-dono hasn’t risen as yet.” Kanetsugu identified the voice as one of his officers absently, much more concerned with the name that had just been dropped.
Sure enough, the next voice was brash, loud and completely unimpressed, “The sun’s up already, what does that idiot think he’s doing, lazing about? I need to see him about something. Now.”
The scuffling sound occurred again; obviously Kanetsugu’s officer had blocked Masamune’s entry for the second time. The officer’s voice was firm and unafraid, “I’m afraid I can’t let you in Masamune-dono. I can pass word to Kanetsugu-dono about your request when he wakes up.”
However, Kanetsugu knew that whatever Date Masamune wanted, Date Masamune would get and so, he wasn’t surprised at the low groan of pain before his tent flap was jerked open and Masamune himself strode in.
Kanetsugu sighed, pressing fingers to his temple before offering his best placating smile to the young daimyo, bowing slightly from where he knelt, “Masamune-dono. What can I do for you this morning?”
The expected drawled reply of something derogatory in response never came as only silence answered his question. Thrown for a loop, Kanetsugu straightened and looked towards Masamune, “Masamune-dono?”
Masamune himself was staring at something just to Kanetsugu’s left. With a dawning sense of dismay, Kanetsugu looked over to see the stranger, who he had temporarily forgotten about, smiling genially at the both of them, innocence radiating from his person.
Kanetsugu looked back at Masamune and nearly winced at the narrowed eyed, completely unreadable look that was fixed on him.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what this looked like; Kanetsugu was barely clad, kneeling on his futon with a suspicious tinge of red on his cheeks. Then there was another man right next to him, hands on the front clasps of Kanetsugu’s inner jacket, trying to be innocent. No matter the fact that he had been fastening the clasps rather than undoing them and the color on Kanetsugu’s cheeks were more from the embarrassment of the current situation rather than… something else.
No. Date Masamune was as quick to reach and keep his own conclusions as he was at drawing his pistol and sabre on the battlefield.
The young daimyo stared at the duo on the futon for another minute before a faint emotion flashed across his face and he turned and strode right back out.
“Ah! Masamune-dono…?” Kanetsugu’s words trailed off stared at the softly swaying flap that separated him from the outside world.
“Heh. Even at this age, my younger self is still easy to rile,” a low, amused voice noted from the position next to him. A thoughtful pause before he added, “Or maybe it’s because of you.”
Kanetsugu nodded absently before the words once again registered. In a motion almost identical to the one he displayed earlier, he turned to stare at the stranger at his side, “What?”
And it was then he saw the other man’s face clearly for the first time. A black eye patch adorned with the Date crest in gold lay over his right eye and familiar, if more matured features, stared back at him. The smirk was the same as it always was.
Sliding backwards until he was seated steadily, Kanetsugu wanted nothing more than to bury his head under his blankets and pretend that this wasn’t happening.
This… this man wasn’t helping at all, he leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, smirk retracted in favour of a charming smile.
“I’m Date Masamune, Lord of Sendai. Please take care of me.”
***
It was the day after a fairly important battle. Dawn had broken barely an hour before and the camp was almost silent, most people opting to rest a bit longer.
As Kanetsugu threaded his way through the sea of tents familiarly, the on duty guards bowed their heads as he passed. He nodded back politely every time this happened and occasionally threw a look back at the man who followed much more slowly, looking about with interest.
He stopped just before a larger tent situated on the closed in edge of camp, waiting for his companion to catch up a tad impatiently.
“Things certainly are different,” this older Masamune remarked as his eye continued to rove about.
Kanetsugu’s brow furrowed a bit, “You don’t remember this?”
One hazel eye focused on him and to his irritation, Kanetsugu realized that he actually had to tip his head upwards to meet the gaze.
Large hands spread out to encompass the camp and a cocky smirk was in place, “Let’s just say, it wasn’t like this precisely.”
Instead of asking for an explanation, Kanetsugu clicked his jaw shut and flipped open the flap of the tent, gesturing for Masamune to enter before him.
The welcoming smell of baking bread and stew greeted the two of them.
A few of the passing kitchen workers bowed in recognition of Kanetsugu’s identifiable white outfit but to his relief, spared no more than a curious glance at his companion.
“Kanetsugu-dono, how many servings would you like this morning?” The head cook, familiar with Kanetsugu’s habit of picking up food for both himself and his friends as well, smiled in greeting.
Kanetsugu smiled back, “Just the two today. I haven’t seen Yukimura or Keiji this morning. And Mitsunari-dono would still be writing up post battle reports and the like with Sakon.”
Nodding, the cook set a couple of his underlings to packing the meal to take away before turning back and focusing on Masamune, “This Lord is…?”
Kanetsugu gave Masamune a troubled glance and made something up off the top of his head, “One of the new officers that we recruited. I’m just showing him around.”
Masamune said nothing, merely smiling and bowing slightly in response to the cook’s bow. He took the simply wrapped package that was presented to him which contained both his and Kanetsugu’s breakfasts.
“I’ll see you at lunch then Kanetsugu-dono,” the cook waved at the two of them as they exited before turning back to supervise his work area.
“Where to from here?” Masamune’s smirk was back in place as he balanced the boxes with one hand, the other reaching forward to prod at the lightly frowning Kanetsugu who only gave him a look before sighing.
“Where ever you want. Preferably outside and out of sight,” he responded finally. “It’s just pure luck that no one has seen the similarities between you and Masamune-dono as yet.”
Kanetsugu sent him a glance, eyes lingering on the slightly long fringe that covered the eye patch over the other man’s right eye, “Or maybe it’s your hair that’s doing the trick.”
Masamune didn’t bother responding, still looking around as if trying to memorize each tree and shrub, finally picking a random spot away from prying eyes as per Kanetsugu’s request, settling on a clearing in the middle of a ring of trees.
They ate in companionable silence, Kanetsugu taking the chance to study this older Masamune from the corner of his eye, watching his expressions, actions and mannerisms.
It seemed like Masamune would mature into a fine adult. And his already pleasing features would become even more so, a small part of Kanetsugu’s mind helpfully noted.
He choked on a sip of hot tea.
Masamune was at his side instantly, removing the shaking cup from his grasp and patting his back lightly. His hazel eye was concerned as he crouched in front of Kanetsugu, “Are you alright?”
The white clad man looked up and realized that his eye level was exactly at this older Masamune’s chest. A chest that was now mostly bare thanks to a loosely tied obi and the haste at which the older [it felt strange to think of him as older] man had moved over to him. Kanetsugu could feel his face slowly color as he stared at the well toned pectorals that tapered down to slim hips and…
“You seem interested,” hot breath ghosted over his cheek and Kanetsugu jerked backwards instinctively, almost falling over until Masamune steadied him with firm hands on his shoulders.
“I-I…” Kanetsugu flailed a bit, mostly mentally, because it would be a dishonourable sight for one such as him to actually flail, no matter how much he wanted to.
This older Masamune seemed to enjoy the sight of a speechless Kanetsugu as much as his Masamune did. Kanetsugu didn’t even bother to question why he classified the two like that. He just did.
Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand. Like how the older Masamune had hooked an arm around his waist and was pulling him closer, “M-M-Masamune-dono! W-w-what are you doing?”
Kanetsugu could’ve cursed at the high pitched turn his voice seemed to have taken on the last three syllables, except that he was too busy trying to get away from the older man’s grasp.
“Heh. You’re as tempting as ever, Kanetsugu,” the words were dropped right against his ear as Masamune’s chin rested on his shoulder.
“I-I-I…” Kanetsugu was still struggling to get one coherent word out.
“When I fell asleep, I was with 35 year old Kanetsugu but when I woke up, I was with you, the 25 year old Kanetsugu.”
At Masamune’s teasing words, Kanetsugu struggled harder, completely missing the flash of pain that crossed the older man’s face when he mentioned the older Kanetsugu.
“Come here,” Masamune stopped the smaller man’s struggles easily and pulled him into his lap. He tipped Kanetsugu’s chin up with his free hand and they stared at one another in silence in this position for a while.
“Masamune… dono?” Completely thrown by the mixture of expressions in that one hazel eye, Kanetsugu couldn’t even look away.
But the moment was gone as quickly as it came as Masamune practically leered at him, “I’m hungry.”
The man in his lap resumed struggling, “But you just ate!”
“Not for food,” the predatory look that was given to him stopped Kanetsugu immediately and a huge warning sign at the back of his mind started to flash.
“Masamune-dono…!” Torn between making a desperate move like head butting him or something completely useless like struggling, Kanetsugu nevertheless felt his face heat up with embarrassment as Masamune leaned closer and closer and…
The sound of a pistol cocking was extremely loud.
“Take your hands off him.”
The words were calm, as was the hand that pressed the flintlock pistol to the older Masamune’s temple.
There was no panic at all from the one held at gunpoint, the only reaction he had was to slowly release Kanetsugu and turn to face his younger self, smiling, “Heh. I was wondering when you’d come out.”
“Masamune-dono?” Golden eyes were pathetically grateful.
The younger Masamune glared a little, “Che. You’re an idiot for letting yourself get into situations like this.”
However, despite his sharp tone, he shoved his older self to one side, unseating Kanetsugu from the other’s lap and onto the floor.
Kanetsugu hissed in pain as his injured shoulder twinged in response. He clasped a hand to the aforementioned joint and was dismayed to see the red that had blossomed against the otherwise pure white of his outer jacket.
The younger Masamune turned to him immediately at the slight expulsion of breath and tsked at the sight of blood on Kanetsugu’s shoulder, “You idiot!”
Without bothering to wait for a reply, he pulled the slightly dazed man off the floor by his good arm and started dragging him in the direction of his tent.
Still sprawled on the floor lazily, the yukata-clad Masamune raised his voice to the two moving away, “Hey, what about me?”
There was no response.
***
Masamune paced outside Kanetsugu’s tent, stopping every now and again to glare at the flap that separated him, the injured idiot and the doctor treating said idiot.
“That idiot! I knew the imbecile wouldn’t have seen a doctor about that shoulder!” Masamune almost growled. His hand swept over the top of a pistol. He really wanted to shoot someone, preferably one of the ones in the tent. Or perhaps the one who stood with him.
He fingered the weapon thoughtfully and wondered about the consequences of killing an older version of yourself. Of course, beyond the first moment of shock at seeing a ten year later version of himself, Masamune wasn’t interested in wasting any time trying to figure out just how there could be two of him here at once. He would rather think about the present and how to get rid of the other, older and rather annoying version.
Said version was currently leaning casually against a stray tree, expression amused, “Oh. Was that why you came to see him this morning?”
A glower answered that question along with an almost completely unrelated statement, “It’s all your fault.”
Well, completely unrelated if your name wasn’t Date Masamune. The older man seemed to understand perfectly about what the other was talking about.
“Blaming yourself never gets you anywhere,” was the cheerful response which prompted another glare. But the genial expression sobered almost immediately at the unease and uncertainty that he could read so easily in his younger counterpart’s eye.
“If he matters so much to you, why don’t you try telling him?”
Masamune stopped, seemingly unsurprised that his older self could read him so easily, he was him after all. He frowned, his one eye holding a distant look, “Che. He’s always around that idiot Ishida and that crazy Maeda. Not to mention Sanada and the rest who flock around him.”
The words hidden behind that statement were as clear to the older Masamune as if they had been shouted out.
‘He already has steady friends who support him and see to his needs. I’m just one of the ones lurking on the edge, not important enough to him to command any sort of attention.’
“Hmph. Don’t think like that you little brat. Believe me, from what I’ve seen, he needs you just as much as you need him. Even if you’re not quite ready to admit that yet.”
Both of them looked surprised at the hand that found its way into short dark locks, ruffling it.
Withdrawing his hand, the older one closed his eye, as if remembering something, “Don’t leave things too late. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow…” He trailed off, brow furrowed with something akin to pain.
Masamune, being the bright young daimyo he was, immediately knew that there was something that his older self wasn’t telling him. And that something related closely to Kanetsugu.
In two strides, he was right before the other man, fisting the loose yukata with a hand and glaring up at him with a narrowed eye, “You! What aren’t you saying?”
The older man brushed away the hold casually, as if it were nothing more than a light touch, “Nothing you need to know.”
His eye opened again, all signs of pain and loss gone. Begrudgingly, Masamune admitted that the older man was good at whatever game he played at.
“I think that’s it,” the deeper and more mature voice spoke, looking down at his hands speculatively. “I think I can go home now.”
“Wait what?” Completely thrown by the abrupt change in topic, Masamune could only stare as his older self smiled jauntily at him, the familiar brazen grin made his fingers itch for him pistol. If that was what he looked like when he did that… He briefly considered toning down the expression. Very briefly.
“Take care.”
With that, 35 year old Date Masamune, Lord of Sendai, flipped open the tent flap to Kanetsugu’s tent, walked in and vanished.
Masamune chased right after him but only found two pairs of eyes staring at him quizzically from inside the tent. Neither wore an eye patch.
“Masamune-dono?” Kanetsugu struggled to rise despite the protests of the doctor at his side.
“Stay still idiot!” Quickly moving over, Masamune pressed Kanetsugu back onto his futon.
The doctor looked grateful, returning to dabbing off the oozing blood and cleaning the wound before slathering on some herbs designed to encourage clotting and numb the area of the wound.
The young daimyo watched with his eye narrowed at the extent of the previously untreated injury as the doctor treated it.
When he picked up the stark white bandages however, Masamune waved him off, “I’ll take care of the rest. You may leave.”
Looking between the two men with a slightly worried expression, the doctor hesitated. The entire camp knew that Naoe Kanetsugu and Date Masamune weren’t exactly on the best of terms.
Surprisingly, it was Kanetsugu who broke the slightly tense silence, “I will be fine with Masamune-dono. Thank you very much for your help.”
With that, there was nothing left to say and so the doctor bowed once to both of them and exited the tent.
Silence reigned for one moment before Masamune picked up a bandage and went around the futon to Kanetsugu’s injured side, propping him up and winding the dressing across the wound carefully, “You’re a complete and utter idiot!”
Kanetsugu smiled slightly, a brief quirk of his lips, “You’ve said that enough Masamune-dono.”
“Oh? No lectures on honour or righteousness or how you’re going to save my soul from eternal disgrace today?” the drawl was half amazed and half critical.
This time, Kanetsugu’s smile was clearly visible as he turned to Masamune, whose actions faltered for a moment. He scowled, turning his eye away from the brilliant smile to the bandages in his hand, “What?"
A gentle touch on his cheek made him jerk his head upwards in surprise and his hazel eye met golden ones. Kanetsugu’s smile was filled with contentment, “There’s no need. We have both seen that you will be a man of honour, walking the path of righteousness.” He paused, gaze assessing, “In fact, you already are and always have been. You just like hiding behind your brash, rude façade.”
“Ha! Completely laughable!” Masamune jerked his face away from the other man’s touch, lowering his face so that the pink of his cheeks couldn’t be seen, “I will rule the land, righteous or not, honourable or not.”
The man sitting quietly on the futon seemed disinclined to argue, instead looking around, “By the way, where is the other Masamune-dono?”
Masamune scoffed, tying off the bandage carefully, “Gone.”
“Eh?”
Sighing, the young lord looked up, “He said something about returning and then opened the flap to this tent, walked in and then vanished.”
Masamune paused, considering Kanetsugu thoughtfully, “You didn’t see him come in?”
The injured man shook his head, pulling on his inner shirt again and buttoning it, “No. The flap fluttered in the wind for a moment and then you entered Masamune-dono.”
A pause.
“You can just call me Masamune.” This was said very, very softly.
Kanetsugu tilted his head, “But I already do…”
“Drop the -dono.” Masamune leaned forward slowly, as if testing how close he could get.
Kanetsugu didn’t even seem to notice their proximity, only blinking a couple of times in befuddled confusion.
A smirk drew the edges of Masamune’s lips upwards just the tiniest fraction before they touched Kanetsugu’s slightly parted ones.
The kiss was brief, barely a brush of lips against one another.
Leaning back again slowly, Masamune watched Kanetsugu’s expressions jump from shock to amazement to disquiet before finally settling on an adorably embarrassed expression.
“M-Masamune-dono!”
Pleased with the reaction, Masamune leaned forward again.
This time the kiss was deeper and there was a definite, if hesitant, response from Kanetsugu.
By the time they broke apart, they were both pink cheeked and slightly out of breath.
The younger man shuffled over a bit, leaning as close as he could and stared into warm golden eyes, “I thought I told you to drop the suffix?”
Gulping at bit at the sly glint in Masamune’s eye, Kanetsugu took a breath, “Masamune…?”
“Much better,” was all he said before closing the gap between the two of them again.
There was no hesitation in his partner’s actions this time round as fingers gently touched the nape of his neck, drawing him downwards and another hand shyly grasped the lapel of his black and green outer jacket.
Masamune broke away first, drawing himself upwards a bit and flicking a quick glance at the newly bandaged shoulder of the man under him.
Kanetsugu understood immediately, shaking his head and smiling gently at the slight worry he could read from that one hazel eye. He tugged Masamune down again by his jacket and initiated the kiss this time round.
Surprised but pleased at the slight turn in events, Masamune smirked against the other’s lips and let him take the advantage, taking the chance to slip his gauntlets off and throwing them carelessly over his shoulder.
His jacket soon followed and he was somewhat thankful that he had forgone his armoured chest plate this morning, leaving his top half only clad in a black silk inner jacket, similar to the one pooled around Kanetsugu’s waist at the moment.
Kanetsugu had turned his lips to Masamune’s neck and the now visible collarbone, trailing gentle kisses downwards. He received the same in return; pair of dominating lips against his throat and a barely-there bite mark on his collar and shoulder, marking him.
Masamune smirked again at the pants of hot breath against his cheek and slid the hand not supporting his weight lower, picking at the ties of the front of the crisp white hakama, pressing their bodies closer as he straddled Kanetsugu’s hips.
The surprised whimper from the man underneath him sent Masamune’s blood surging. He leant back down and captured the other man’s lips, one hand still roving attentively under the untied hakama.
The flap to the tent jerked open.
“Kanetsugu! I just heard from the medical staff that…”
The sound of a fan hitting the ground mingled with the sound of heavy breathing in the tent.
“Oomph!”
Mitsunari stumbled a few steps forward as something collided with his back.
“Mitsunari-dono! Is something wrong? You suddenly stopped…” Yukimura’s head popped into the tent as well and his words stuttered to a halt.
The four of them stared at each other for a moment.
Then sense seemed to hit Kanetsugu as he flushed even redder, if it was possible, and pushed at Masamune who was still leaning over him and tugged ineffectively at his open jacket.
Masamune, who personally didn’t have a single problem with people watching, nevertheless knew his partner would be unwilling to say the least, and so he sat back slowly. Well, only after he had kissed Kanetsugu thoroughly again, leaving the older man a bit dazed.
Turning his back on Mitsunari and Yukimura purposefully, Masamune carefully redressed Kanetsugu in his under shirt and retied the white hakama. Then he picked up his discarded black jacket and slung that over the older man’s shoulders as well, admiring the sight of the golden Date crest on Kanetsugu.
Only then did he bother about his own state of undress, quickly doing up the ties to his own inner jacket and dusting off his gauntlets from where they lay in an abandoned corner.
Mitsunari and Yukimura watched this in a sort of frozen silence, their faces unsure of what kind of expression to hold.
It was Yukimura who unfroze first, nodding politely to Masamune as he stood in front of them, his hazel eye challenging, as if daring them to say or do something.
“Masamune-dono.”
Masamune himself jerked a nod in response before turning back to watch Kanetsugu with a self-satisfied smirk, “I’ll see you later Kanetsugu.” He deliberately emphasised the 'later' and Kanetsugu could feel his cheeks flush again.
He brushed past Mitsunari and Yukimura carelessly, whistling in a rare show of good humor and left poor Kanetsugu darting increasingly nervous looks between the door of the tent and the two in front of the only exit.
Kanetsugu never got a chance to decide on if he wanted to escape or not as Mitsunari’s fan, passed kindly back to him by Yukimura, snapped open and shut in front of his face.
He looked up into the face of a terribly offended Mitsunari, “Explain. Now!”
A quick look at Yukimura told him that he wasn’t going to get any sympathy from that quarter either, although he looked more puzzled than anything else.
Laughing awkwardly, Kanetsugu clutched at the black jacket around his shoulders like a lifeline, “Ah. Well. You see… It’s going to sound really, really strange but…”
Kanetsugu blinked sleepily as he finally roused from his slumber, wincing slightly as he jolted his injured shoulder.
He yawned, stretching lightly and somehow managing to push himself upright with his uninjured side. One of his hands muffled the yawn out of ingrained habit whilst the other hand searched for the inner silk jacket that he had abandoned somewhere near his futon last night.
As his fingers came into contact with what certainly felt like the right material, Kanetsugu, eyes still barely open, shrugged out of his thin sleeping yukata, shivering slightly with the coolness that remained from the night just past.
“You’re really not a morning person are you?”
Kanetsugu, struggling to get his other arm through the slippery material, merely grunted in response.
Then the question seemed to actually register as his eyes shot open and his head whipped over to the direction the voice had come from.
A man dressed in a simple dark blue kimono was watching him, amused, from right next to his futon.
“W-w-wha?!” This obviously was a completely unexpected sight since the man on the futon flailed a little, completely awake now but still struggling to form coherent words.
The other man only quirked his lips upwards, the smirk familiar enough to reassure Kanetsugu’s subconscious enough for him to find his tongue, “Who are you and why are you in my room?”
Kanetsugu also regained enough of his thought process to reach for his sword. But he never got to it as the stranger in the room was already kneeling next to him on the futon, one knee firmly on the sheathed weapon, having obviously expected the action.
“A bit late for that isn’t it? You’re still as hopeless as ever Kanetsugu.” The sting from the other man’s words were soothed by the fond exasperation in his tone as he slid the sword out of Kanetsugu’s reach and leaned over to tug the dishevelled clothing into its right place.
Kanetsugu could only blink, confused by why he didn’t feel threatened by a complete stranger in his room and obeying the wordless command to thread his arm through the offered sleeve, “Do I know you?”
The man only spared a glance at him, but his lips were smiling once more “Ouch. That would hurt except that I’m a bit confused at what I’m doing here myself.”
“Huh?”
The stranger seemed ready to elaborate when the sound of arguing voices was heard from outside Kanetsugu’s tent. Both of them turned their heads to the source of the noise.
“I’m sorry Masamune-dono, I cannot let you enter. Kanetsugu-dono hasn’t risen as yet.” Kanetsugu identified the voice as one of his officers absently, much more concerned with the name that had just been dropped.
Sure enough, the next voice was brash, loud and completely unimpressed, “The sun’s up already, what does that idiot think he’s doing, lazing about? I need to see him about something. Now.”
The scuffling sound occurred again; obviously Kanetsugu’s officer had blocked Masamune’s entry for the second time. The officer’s voice was firm and unafraid, “I’m afraid I can’t let you in Masamune-dono. I can pass word to Kanetsugu-dono about your request when he wakes up.”
However, Kanetsugu knew that whatever Date Masamune wanted, Date Masamune would get and so, he wasn’t surprised at the low groan of pain before his tent flap was jerked open and Masamune himself strode in.
Kanetsugu sighed, pressing fingers to his temple before offering his best placating smile to the young daimyo, bowing slightly from where he knelt, “Masamune-dono. What can I do for you this morning?”
The expected drawled reply of something derogatory in response never came as only silence answered his question. Thrown for a loop, Kanetsugu straightened and looked towards Masamune, “Masamune-dono?”
Masamune himself was staring at something just to Kanetsugu’s left. With a dawning sense of dismay, Kanetsugu looked over to see the stranger, who he had temporarily forgotten about, smiling genially at the both of them, innocence radiating from his person.
Kanetsugu looked back at Masamune and nearly winced at the narrowed eyed, completely unreadable look that was fixed on him.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what this looked like; Kanetsugu was barely clad, kneeling on his futon with a suspicious tinge of red on his cheeks. Then there was another man right next to him, hands on the front clasps of Kanetsugu’s inner jacket, trying to be innocent. No matter the fact that he had been fastening the clasps rather than undoing them and the color on Kanetsugu’s cheeks were more from the embarrassment of the current situation rather than… something else.
No. Date Masamune was as quick to reach and keep his own conclusions as he was at drawing his pistol and sabre on the battlefield.
The young daimyo stared at the duo on the futon for another minute before a faint emotion flashed across his face and he turned and strode right back out.
“Ah! Masamune-dono…?” Kanetsugu’s words trailed off stared at the softly swaying flap that separated him from the outside world.
“Heh. Even at this age, my younger self is still easy to rile,” a low, amused voice noted from the position next to him. A thoughtful pause before he added, “Or maybe it’s because of you.”
Kanetsugu nodded absently before the words once again registered. In a motion almost identical to the one he displayed earlier, he turned to stare at the stranger at his side, “What?”
And it was then he saw the other man’s face clearly for the first time. A black eye patch adorned with the Date crest in gold lay over his right eye and familiar, if more matured features, stared back at him. The smirk was the same as it always was.
Sliding backwards until he was seated steadily, Kanetsugu wanted nothing more than to bury his head under his blankets and pretend that this wasn’t happening.
This… this man wasn’t helping at all, he leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, smirk retracted in favour of a charming smile.
“I’m Date Masamune, Lord of Sendai. Please take care of me.”
***
It was the day after a fairly important battle. Dawn had broken barely an hour before and the camp was almost silent, most people opting to rest a bit longer.
As Kanetsugu threaded his way through the sea of tents familiarly, the on duty guards bowed their heads as he passed. He nodded back politely every time this happened and occasionally threw a look back at the man who followed much more slowly, looking about with interest.
He stopped just before a larger tent situated on the closed in edge of camp, waiting for his companion to catch up a tad impatiently.
“Things certainly are different,” this older Masamune remarked as his eye continued to rove about.
Kanetsugu’s brow furrowed a bit, “You don’t remember this?”
One hazel eye focused on him and to his irritation, Kanetsugu realized that he actually had to tip his head upwards to meet the gaze.
Large hands spread out to encompass the camp and a cocky smirk was in place, “Let’s just say, it wasn’t like this precisely.”
Instead of asking for an explanation, Kanetsugu clicked his jaw shut and flipped open the flap of the tent, gesturing for Masamune to enter before him.
The welcoming smell of baking bread and stew greeted the two of them.
A few of the passing kitchen workers bowed in recognition of Kanetsugu’s identifiable white outfit but to his relief, spared no more than a curious glance at his companion.
“Kanetsugu-dono, how many servings would you like this morning?” The head cook, familiar with Kanetsugu’s habit of picking up food for both himself and his friends as well, smiled in greeting.
Kanetsugu smiled back, “Just the two today. I haven’t seen Yukimura or Keiji this morning. And Mitsunari-dono would still be writing up post battle reports and the like with Sakon.”
Nodding, the cook set a couple of his underlings to packing the meal to take away before turning back and focusing on Masamune, “This Lord is…?”
Kanetsugu gave Masamune a troubled glance and made something up off the top of his head, “One of the new officers that we recruited. I’m just showing him around.”
Masamune said nothing, merely smiling and bowing slightly in response to the cook’s bow. He took the simply wrapped package that was presented to him which contained both his and Kanetsugu’s breakfasts.
“I’ll see you at lunch then Kanetsugu-dono,” the cook waved at the two of them as they exited before turning back to supervise his work area.
“Where to from here?” Masamune’s smirk was back in place as he balanced the boxes with one hand, the other reaching forward to prod at the lightly frowning Kanetsugu who only gave him a look before sighing.
“Where ever you want. Preferably outside and out of sight,” he responded finally. “It’s just pure luck that no one has seen the similarities between you and Masamune-dono as yet.”
Kanetsugu sent him a glance, eyes lingering on the slightly long fringe that covered the eye patch over the other man’s right eye, “Or maybe it’s your hair that’s doing the trick.”
Masamune didn’t bother responding, still looking around as if trying to memorize each tree and shrub, finally picking a random spot away from prying eyes as per Kanetsugu’s request, settling on a clearing in the middle of a ring of trees.
They ate in companionable silence, Kanetsugu taking the chance to study this older Masamune from the corner of his eye, watching his expressions, actions and mannerisms.
It seemed like Masamune would mature into a fine adult. And his already pleasing features would become even more so, a small part of Kanetsugu’s mind helpfully noted.
He choked on a sip of hot tea.
Masamune was at his side instantly, removing the shaking cup from his grasp and patting his back lightly. His hazel eye was concerned as he crouched in front of Kanetsugu, “Are you alright?”
The white clad man looked up and realized that his eye level was exactly at this older Masamune’s chest. A chest that was now mostly bare thanks to a loosely tied obi and the haste at which the older [it felt strange to think of him as older] man had moved over to him. Kanetsugu could feel his face slowly color as he stared at the well toned pectorals that tapered down to slim hips and…
“You seem interested,” hot breath ghosted over his cheek and Kanetsugu jerked backwards instinctively, almost falling over until Masamune steadied him with firm hands on his shoulders.
“I-I…” Kanetsugu flailed a bit, mostly mentally, because it would be a dishonourable sight for one such as him to actually flail, no matter how much he wanted to.
This older Masamune seemed to enjoy the sight of a speechless Kanetsugu as much as his Masamune did. Kanetsugu didn’t even bother to question why he classified the two like that. He just did.
Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand. Like how the older Masamune had hooked an arm around his waist and was pulling him closer, “M-M-Masamune-dono! W-w-what are you doing?”
Kanetsugu could’ve cursed at the high pitched turn his voice seemed to have taken on the last three syllables, except that he was too busy trying to get away from the older man’s grasp.
“Heh. You’re as tempting as ever, Kanetsugu,” the words were dropped right against his ear as Masamune’s chin rested on his shoulder.
“I-I-I…” Kanetsugu was still struggling to get one coherent word out.
“When I fell asleep, I was with 35 year old Kanetsugu but when I woke up, I was with you, the 25 year old Kanetsugu.”
At Masamune’s teasing words, Kanetsugu struggled harder, completely missing the flash of pain that crossed the older man’s face when he mentioned the older Kanetsugu.
“Come here,” Masamune stopped the smaller man’s struggles easily and pulled him into his lap. He tipped Kanetsugu’s chin up with his free hand and they stared at one another in silence in this position for a while.
“Masamune… dono?” Completely thrown by the mixture of expressions in that one hazel eye, Kanetsugu couldn’t even look away.
But the moment was gone as quickly as it came as Masamune practically leered at him, “I’m hungry.”
The man in his lap resumed struggling, “But you just ate!”
“Not for food,” the predatory look that was given to him stopped Kanetsugu immediately and a huge warning sign at the back of his mind started to flash.
“Masamune-dono…!” Torn between making a desperate move like head butting him or something completely useless like struggling, Kanetsugu nevertheless felt his face heat up with embarrassment as Masamune leaned closer and closer and…
The sound of a pistol cocking was extremely loud.
“Take your hands off him.”
The words were calm, as was the hand that pressed the flintlock pistol to the older Masamune’s temple.
There was no panic at all from the one held at gunpoint, the only reaction he had was to slowly release Kanetsugu and turn to face his younger self, smiling, “Heh. I was wondering when you’d come out.”
“Masamune-dono?” Golden eyes were pathetically grateful.
The younger Masamune glared a little, “Che. You’re an idiot for letting yourself get into situations like this.”
However, despite his sharp tone, he shoved his older self to one side, unseating Kanetsugu from the other’s lap and onto the floor.
Kanetsugu hissed in pain as his injured shoulder twinged in response. He clasped a hand to the aforementioned joint and was dismayed to see the red that had blossomed against the otherwise pure white of his outer jacket.
The younger Masamune turned to him immediately at the slight expulsion of breath and tsked at the sight of blood on Kanetsugu’s shoulder, “You idiot!”
Without bothering to wait for a reply, he pulled the slightly dazed man off the floor by his good arm and started dragging him in the direction of his tent.
Still sprawled on the floor lazily, the yukata-clad Masamune raised his voice to the two moving away, “Hey, what about me?”
There was no response.
***
Masamune paced outside Kanetsugu’s tent, stopping every now and again to glare at the flap that separated him, the injured idiot and the doctor treating said idiot.
“That idiot! I knew the imbecile wouldn’t have seen a doctor about that shoulder!” Masamune almost growled. His hand swept over the top of a pistol. He really wanted to shoot someone, preferably one of the ones in the tent. Or perhaps the one who stood with him.
He fingered the weapon thoughtfully and wondered about the consequences of killing an older version of yourself. Of course, beyond the first moment of shock at seeing a ten year later version of himself, Masamune wasn’t interested in wasting any time trying to figure out just how there could be two of him here at once. He would rather think about the present and how to get rid of the other, older and rather annoying version.
Said version was currently leaning casually against a stray tree, expression amused, “Oh. Was that why you came to see him this morning?”
A glower answered that question along with an almost completely unrelated statement, “It’s all your fault.”
Well, completely unrelated if your name wasn’t Date Masamune. The older man seemed to understand perfectly about what the other was talking about.
“Blaming yourself never gets you anywhere,” was the cheerful response which prompted another glare. But the genial expression sobered almost immediately at the unease and uncertainty that he could read so easily in his younger counterpart’s eye.
“If he matters so much to you, why don’t you try telling him?”
Masamune stopped, seemingly unsurprised that his older self could read him so easily, he was him after all. He frowned, his one eye holding a distant look, “Che. He’s always around that idiot Ishida and that crazy Maeda. Not to mention Sanada and the rest who flock around him.”
The words hidden behind that statement were as clear to the older Masamune as if they had been shouted out.
‘He already has steady friends who support him and see to his needs. I’m just one of the ones lurking on the edge, not important enough to him to command any sort of attention.’
“Hmph. Don’t think like that you little brat. Believe me, from what I’ve seen, he needs you just as much as you need him. Even if you’re not quite ready to admit that yet.”
Both of them looked surprised at the hand that found its way into short dark locks, ruffling it.
Withdrawing his hand, the older one closed his eye, as if remembering something, “Don’t leave things too late. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow…” He trailed off, brow furrowed with something akin to pain.
Masamune, being the bright young daimyo he was, immediately knew that there was something that his older self wasn’t telling him. And that something related closely to Kanetsugu.
In two strides, he was right before the other man, fisting the loose yukata with a hand and glaring up at him with a narrowed eye, “You! What aren’t you saying?”
The older man brushed away the hold casually, as if it were nothing more than a light touch, “Nothing you need to know.”
His eye opened again, all signs of pain and loss gone. Begrudgingly, Masamune admitted that the older man was good at whatever game he played at.
“I think that’s it,” the deeper and more mature voice spoke, looking down at his hands speculatively. “I think I can go home now.”
“Wait what?” Completely thrown by the abrupt change in topic, Masamune could only stare as his older self smiled jauntily at him, the familiar brazen grin made his fingers itch for him pistol. If that was what he looked like when he did that… He briefly considered toning down the expression. Very briefly.
“Take care.”
With that, 35 year old Date Masamune, Lord of Sendai, flipped open the tent flap to Kanetsugu’s tent, walked in and vanished.
Masamune chased right after him but only found two pairs of eyes staring at him quizzically from inside the tent. Neither wore an eye patch.
“Masamune-dono?” Kanetsugu struggled to rise despite the protests of the doctor at his side.
“Stay still idiot!” Quickly moving over, Masamune pressed Kanetsugu back onto his futon.
The doctor looked grateful, returning to dabbing off the oozing blood and cleaning the wound before slathering on some herbs designed to encourage clotting and numb the area of the wound.
The young daimyo watched with his eye narrowed at the extent of the previously untreated injury as the doctor treated it.
When he picked up the stark white bandages however, Masamune waved him off, “I’ll take care of the rest. You may leave.”
Looking between the two men with a slightly worried expression, the doctor hesitated. The entire camp knew that Naoe Kanetsugu and Date Masamune weren’t exactly on the best of terms.
Surprisingly, it was Kanetsugu who broke the slightly tense silence, “I will be fine with Masamune-dono. Thank you very much for your help.”
With that, there was nothing left to say and so the doctor bowed once to both of them and exited the tent.
Silence reigned for one moment before Masamune picked up a bandage and went around the futon to Kanetsugu’s injured side, propping him up and winding the dressing across the wound carefully, “You’re a complete and utter idiot!”
Kanetsugu smiled slightly, a brief quirk of his lips, “You’ve said that enough Masamune-dono.”
“Oh? No lectures on honour or righteousness or how you’re going to save my soul from eternal disgrace today?” the drawl was half amazed and half critical.
This time, Kanetsugu’s smile was clearly visible as he turned to Masamune, whose actions faltered for a moment. He scowled, turning his eye away from the brilliant smile to the bandages in his hand, “What?"
A gentle touch on his cheek made him jerk his head upwards in surprise and his hazel eye met golden ones. Kanetsugu’s smile was filled with contentment, “There’s no need. We have both seen that you will be a man of honour, walking the path of righteousness.” He paused, gaze assessing, “In fact, you already are and always have been. You just like hiding behind your brash, rude façade.”
“Ha! Completely laughable!” Masamune jerked his face away from the other man’s touch, lowering his face so that the pink of his cheeks couldn’t be seen, “I will rule the land, righteous or not, honourable or not.”
The man sitting quietly on the futon seemed disinclined to argue, instead looking around, “By the way, where is the other Masamune-dono?”
Masamune scoffed, tying off the bandage carefully, “Gone.”
“Eh?”
Sighing, the young lord looked up, “He said something about returning and then opened the flap to this tent, walked in and then vanished.”
Masamune paused, considering Kanetsugu thoughtfully, “You didn’t see him come in?”
The injured man shook his head, pulling on his inner shirt again and buttoning it, “No. The flap fluttered in the wind for a moment and then you entered Masamune-dono.”
A pause.
“You can just call me Masamune.” This was said very, very softly.
Kanetsugu tilted his head, “But I already do…”
“Drop the -dono.” Masamune leaned forward slowly, as if testing how close he could get.
Kanetsugu didn’t even seem to notice their proximity, only blinking a couple of times in befuddled confusion.
A smirk drew the edges of Masamune’s lips upwards just the tiniest fraction before they touched Kanetsugu’s slightly parted ones.
The kiss was brief, barely a brush of lips against one another.
Leaning back again slowly, Masamune watched Kanetsugu’s expressions jump from shock to amazement to disquiet before finally settling on an adorably embarrassed expression.
“M-Masamune-dono!”
Pleased with the reaction, Masamune leaned forward again.
This time the kiss was deeper and there was a definite, if hesitant, response from Kanetsugu.
By the time they broke apart, they were both pink cheeked and slightly out of breath.
The younger man shuffled over a bit, leaning as close as he could and stared into warm golden eyes, “I thought I told you to drop the suffix?”
Gulping at bit at the sly glint in Masamune’s eye, Kanetsugu took a breath, “Masamune…?”
“Much better,” was all he said before closing the gap between the two of them again.
There was no hesitation in his partner’s actions this time round as fingers gently touched the nape of his neck, drawing him downwards and another hand shyly grasped the lapel of his black and green outer jacket.
Masamune broke away first, drawing himself upwards a bit and flicking a quick glance at the newly bandaged shoulder of the man under him.
Kanetsugu understood immediately, shaking his head and smiling gently at the slight worry he could read from that one hazel eye. He tugged Masamune down again by his jacket and initiated the kiss this time round.
Surprised but pleased at the slight turn in events, Masamune smirked against the other’s lips and let him take the advantage, taking the chance to slip his gauntlets off and throwing them carelessly over his shoulder.
His jacket soon followed and he was somewhat thankful that he had forgone his armoured chest plate this morning, leaving his top half only clad in a black silk inner jacket, similar to the one pooled around Kanetsugu’s waist at the moment.
Kanetsugu had turned his lips to Masamune’s neck and the now visible collarbone, trailing gentle kisses downwards. He received the same in return; pair of dominating lips against his throat and a barely-there bite mark on his collar and shoulder, marking him.
Masamune smirked again at the pants of hot breath against his cheek and slid the hand not supporting his weight lower, picking at the ties of the front of the crisp white hakama, pressing their bodies closer as he straddled Kanetsugu’s hips.
The surprised whimper from the man underneath him sent Masamune’s blood surging. He leant back down and captured the other man’s lips, one hand still roving attentively under the untied hakama.
The flap to the tent jerked open.
“Kanetsugu! I just heard from the medical staff that…”
The sound of a fan hitting the ground mingled with the sound of heavy breathing in the tent.
“Oomph!”
Mitsunari stumbled a few steps forward as something collided with his back.
“Mitsunari-dono! Is something wrong? You suddenly stopped…” Yukimura’s head popped into the tent as well and his words stuttered to a halt.
The four of them stared at each other for a moment.
Then sense seemed to hit Kanetsugu as he flushed even redder, if it was possible, and pushed at Masamune who was still leaning over him and tugged ineffectively at his open jacket.
Masamune, who personally didn’t have a single problem with people watching, nevertheless knew his partner would be unwilling to say the least, and so he sat back slowly. Well, only after he had kissed Kanetsugu thoroughly again, leaving the older man a bit dazed.
Turning his back on Mitsunari and Yukimura purposefully, Masamune carefully redressed Kanetsugu in his under shirt and retied the white hakama. Then he picked up his discarded black jacket and slung that over the older man’s shoulders as well, admiring the sight of the golden Date crest on Kanetsugu.
Only then did he bother about his own state of undress, quickly doing up the ties to his own inner jacket and dusting off his gauntlets from where they lay in an abandoned corner.
Mitsunari and Yukimura watched this in a sort of frozen silence, their faces unsure of what kind of expression to hold.
It was Yukimura who unfroze first, nodding politely to Masamune as he stood in front of them, his hazel eye challenging, as if daring them to say or do something.
“Masamune-dono.”
Masamune himself jerked a nod in response before turning back to watch Kanetsugu with a self-satisfied smirk, “I’ll see you later Kanetsugu.” He deliberately emphasised the 'later' and Kanetsugu could feel his cheeks flush again.
He brushed past Mitsunari and Yukimura carelessly, whistling in a rare show of good humor and left poor Kanetsugu darting increasingly nervous looks between the door of the tent and the two in front of the only exit.
Kanetsugu never got a chance to decide on if he wanted to escape or not as Mitsunari’s fan, passed kindly back to him by Yukimura, snapped open and shut in front of his face.
He looked up into the face of a terribly offended Mitsunari, “Explain. Now!”
A quick look at Yukimura told him that he wasn’t going to get any sympathy from that quarter either, although he looked more puzzled than anything else.
Laughing awkwardly, Kanetsugu clutched at the black jacket around his shoulders like a lifeline, “Ah. Well. You see… It’s going to sound really, really strange but…”