charade [one-shot]
title: charade
author: hika_nishi
pairing: masuda/tegoshi
rating: r
disclaimer: I own the computer I typed this on. That's it.
summary: With anyone else, there was never a relationship, never another meeting. With Masuda, it was, as it always was with him, different.
note: this is basically Brightside: Tegoshi version. I'm not sure necessary to read that one first, but it wouldn't hurt.
It’s that smile that he sees first. He’s not sure why it stood out among the monochrome collection of students, but, on that chilly day in late autumn, when he was barely fifteen, it did. It made him feel strange inside, comfortable and warm, what makes it stranger is he doesn’t even know this kid. But in that moment, he wished he did. Later he’d realize that it was that moment when he fell in love, hard and sudden, with the boy he’d later affectionately call Massu.
Since that day, Tegoshi has always been looking for him, in the cafeteria, the halls, the classrooms. He seems generally well liked, this boy, always laughing with his friends, creating a positive mood even around people he wasn’t that close to. Tegoshi sneaks out of class a few times, stands outside the gym door when he knows the boy has PE, watching him do almost every activity with ease. It makes him hot, makes him need to find a cute and willing girl or curious guy, someone to be a distraction. They always fall for the act, the aloof, smug, promiscuous player who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. There are sometimes, while he’s pinning some stranger against the tiled wall of the bathroom, when he thinks, even for a moment, that he really is that person. But then he’ll see that boy again, see him smile, and he’ll remember how pathetic a person he really is. A person so desperate to feel loved that he’s earned himself this disdainful reputation, so desperate to feel connected to another person that he’s practically stalking someone he’s never actually met.
On the cold afternoon of the first of December, blue sky hiding behind a blanket of clouds, he follows the boy home from school, finds out where he lives, feet seeming to move despite his mind telling how wrong this was. He wants this boy to see him, wants him to be as draw to Tegoshi as Tegoshi is to him.
++++
In mid December, he gets his wish. Tegoshi bikes passed him, closer than he intended, but secretly he hopes that guy noticed, hopes he yells something at him, that he’ll have to turn around, look him in the eye. But he doesn’t say anything, Tegoshi thinks he’s in for another disappointing day. He chains his bike up among the dozens of others lining the school wall, his movements making his frustration obvious to anyone, that is if anyone cared to pay much attention to him.
Today, one person did. When Tegoshi looks up, he’s staring at him. He notices the boy blush when their eyes meet across the school ground, Tegoshi winking at him without thinking about it. He sealed their fate in that moment.
++++
Tegoshi learns his name a few days later. Masuda. He gets it that day when he sees him duck into the men’s restroom, takes it as an opportunity and follows him inside. He thought this would be a challenge, seducing Masuda, but in the end, all it takes was a few words, a slight pout, a soft kiss. Masuda’s lips feel just like he thought they would, damp and soft. Masuda surprises him after that, taking full control of the situation, pushing him into the back stall where Tegoshi usually led his prey, kissing him hard, unfastening the buttons of his uniform.
It was almost funny, the thought of the known good boy behaving like this. Like a normal horny teenager. It’s probably a good thing for Masuda, if Tegoshi thought that now, there was no way other students would believe it. Tegoshi giggles as Masuda’s lips dance over newly exposed skin. No one has ever done this to him before, but then again, he’d never been the victim before. Seemingly on their own, one hand grips Masuda’s arm tightly, the other reaching out and touching his thigh, works it’s way up until it finds the place between his legs. Tegoshi smiles to himself when he feels that Masuda’s hard, knowing it’s for him. There’s a part of him that hopes Masuda intends to do him right there, against the cool tile of a school restroom, but then again, it’s not exactly the place he wants to think of when remembers his first time.
As it turns out, those thoughts didn’t matter, when a middle aged man pushes the stall door open. He doesn’t look surprised to see Tegoshi, Masuda on the other hand leaves him visibly stunned.
Tegoshi gets sparred expulsion, Masuda taking all the blame for their behavior. He thinks that was a stupid thing to do, blaming Tegoshi would have been so easy, but in his heart, it makes him feel that Masuda honestly cares about him. Someone cares about him.
That’s the moment he knows it himself. He’s really in love.
++++
With anyone else, there was never a relationship, never another meeting. With Masuda, it was, as it always was with him, different. What they had, Tegoshi called a friendship, at least to Masuda, but even he would admit it was more than that.
Through the winter and spring, they meet out of sight other people, Tegoshi giving him passionate kisses in empty stairwells, dimly lit corners, and the janitor’s closet, touching him in ways that Tegoshi knows would make Masuda want him. He invites Masuda to a beach in the next town over when the warm summer days arrive. He has his reasons for doing it, other than enjoying a day in the sun, motives that aren’t exactly pure. Besides, no one knows them here, no chance of some fellow student walking by, seeing Masuda as he flicks his tongue in Tegoshi’s navel. He really thinks it will happen here, that Masuda will take the lead again, take him to some beachside hotel, fuck his brains out.
But he doesn’t. On the bus ride home, Tegoshi does his best to hide his disappointment.
++++
Masuda takes Tegoshi to his house in early July, meeting him on the corner of a street behind the school, one that students rarely took home. Today turned out to be Masuda’s birthday. They’ve known each other for six months, but this is the first time he’s been inside Masuda’s house. He knows why, it was no secret that Masuda’s mother wasn’t fond of him. When Tegoshi stopped by after school one day, she screamed at him to leave, to stay away from her son.
But he was here now, looking at pictures on walls and tables, printed memories of parties and trips, a family portrait hanging near the staircase. Everything is so neat, so in order, Tegoshi thinks it resembles a catalog spread more than something that was actually lived in. Or maybe that’s just because it completely different from his house. This was filled with warmth of a family, Masuda’s face smiling from every photo, reflect parents who loved their son. Tegoshi couldn’t think of a single picture of himself that his parents had the pride to display in their living room.
Masuda calls for him from the staircase, addresses him as Yuya. Tegoshi can’t remember when he started calling him by his first name, but he never corrects him. His own mother rarely called him Yuya, usually addressing him as you or boy. It feels intimate and he likes it.
He’s led up to Masuda’s room, hand tugging at his wrist. His room is neat, everything organized, in it’s place, blue sheets on his bed tucked in snuggly. Tegoshi walks around, studying the room’s every detail as if it will reveal some secret about Masuda that he’d otherwise never learn. Masuda stands in the middle of the room, shuffling his feet nervously, Tegoshi thinks to ask if something is on his mind. When he finally speaks up, Tegoshi is surprised by what he says. He asks for a present, for sex. Tegoshi acts nonchalant about it, like it’s not the first time someone has said that to him. He laughs, cracks a joke, all in an effort to hide the fact that he’s waited months for Masuda to want him like that. Masuda ducks into a corner, cheeks turning a bright pink. He hops on the bed when Masuda’s back is turned, excitedly unfastens the first few buttons on his shirt, puts on one of those seductive looks he practiced in the bathroom mirror at home.
When Masuda is kneeling in front of him, clumsily unfastening the buttons of his shirt, the clasp of his belt, Tegoshi feels his stomach tighten. Now that it’s actually happening, he’s afraid. Afraid this will hurt, afraid of what it will do their already strange relationship. But he takes an odd comfort in the fact that Masuda is obviously as inexperienced as he is. Masuda is surprised by this, it leaves Tegoshi feeling slightly insulted, disappointed that Masuda saw him as a slut just like everyone else. But when Masuda is lying over him, pants around his ankles, that doesn’t really seem important anymore.
It was perfect, or at least it could have been. They don’t quite make it to perfect, not before Masuda’s mother comes home, poking her head into his room without warning, smiling like some phony 50s sitcom mom. She screams something incoherent, high pitched, Masuda’s face looks mortified. He rolls off Tegoshi, messes with his clothes until he looks decent enough to follow her out the door. Tegoshi lies there for a moment, humiliated, but more disappointed that they didn’t get far enough to make him see stars or whatever people said. He can hear Masuda’s voice from downstairs, his mother’s piercing voice, crying, outing him to his father. He gets off the bed slowly, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt. It’s never going to happen here now. He can tell he’s never going to be allowed back here again.
++++
There’s no moon out tonight, likely hiding behind the heavy clouds dropping rain down on him as he makes his way home. It seems appropriate, this weather. It matches his mood, dark and heavy. When he gets to his house, opens his door, there’s no welcome home, not even a worried where have you been. No, he’s greeted with his father shouting, “Don’t drip water all over the floor,” voice sounding slurred. Tegoshi sees a half empty glass bottle on the side table next to him. Drunk, it’s the usual sight he comes home to, like having a good job and a family was just not the way he wanted his life to turn out.
His mother is in the kitchen, dumping dishes in the sink. He stands in the doorway, hopes, as he always does, for some kind of response from her. He says, “I’m home,” in a quiet voice, she looks at him, an expression the usual mix of disappointment and anger. Deep in her eyes, Tegoshi thinks he sees a touch of something when she looks at him. Somewhere inside, he knows she loves him. Or maybe he’s just fooling himself.
She sighs heavily, exasperated. “If you’re going to be this late,” she says, slamming a dish on the counter, “you just shouldn’t come home at all.” Tegoshi hangs his head, mumbles an apology, before heading down the hall to his room. He closes the door behind him, still hearing the sound of studio laughter from the television in the living, sound passing through the thin wood.
He sits down on his bed, springs creaking under the weight, looks around his room, empty walls and dull colors. He compares it to Masuda’s room, warm and organized, full of color and possessions that made it look like someone actually lived in it. His own room looked like a prison cell in comparison. He stands up, kicks off his jeans, pulls on a pair of soft sweatpants, falls back on to his bed, shifting his position until his head is rested on a surprisingly comfortable pillow. The television is loud, too loud for him to sleep while it’s on. There were times he used to think about why his father turned the volume so high so late. By now he realized, the man was trying to drown out the sound of his family.
Tegoshi had his way of doing that, too. He lets his mind wander, thinks about sports and school and how it felt when Masuda was inside him. He gets up, opens the door quietly, sneaks across the hall, into his parents room. He kneels down next to their dresser, digs under the old clothes in the bottom drawer, pulling out money they thought they’d hid so successfully from him. Tegoshi fans it out, counts how much he has, hurries back across the hall with a smile on his face.
The next day at school, he has a surprise for Masuda.
++++
He drags the toe of his shoe across the ground, writing letters to pass the agonizing time while he waits for Masuda to show up in the hotel lobby. They had decided at school, between kisses in the janitor’s closet, to meet here, this average hotel, to finish what they started. He brought the money, thinking it in some way made up the trouble he’d gotten Masuda into last night, ending his birthday on a sour note, but he needed Masuda to get the room. They wouldn’t rent one out to a fifteen year old, especially one that looked like as much of a kid as he did. So he was left to sit here, waiting, glancing increasingly often at the glass entrance doors.
Masuda finally arrives, only five minutes late it turned out, hurrying over to Tegoshi, pulling him toward the counter. He hasn’t said a word, and that would make Tegoshi worry, if it wasn’t for the smile or the look in Masuda’s eyes. Tegoshi finds Masuda’s behavior amusing, doesn’t hide the smile in response to how he hurries down the carpeted hall, fumbles with the card to unlock the door.
“Thanks for this, Yuya,” Masuda says quietly, smiling shyly before kissing him deeply, Tegoshi grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling him toward the bed closest to the door. When he lifts his shirt, Masuda stops him, pulls away. Tegoshi stares back at him confused, wondering what he did wrong. Masuda laughs at his expression, he probably had that coming with all the times he found Masuda’s faces so amusing. “Don’t go so fast,” he says softly, lowering Tegoshi gently onto the mattress. “And let me take the lead, okay? This is supposed to be for my birthday, right?” Tegoshi nods, looking at him with wide eyes.
Tegoshi feels like he’s being emotionally tortured, not by anything Masuda does, but by the pace he takes. He throws his own shirt to the side, lets Tegoshi slide small hands across his chest before leaning down, kissing the spot of exposed skin between the hem of Tegoshi’s shirt and his pants. He pushes the boy’s shirt up, lips moving across his stomach and chest, tongue dipping into his navel, flicking his nipples. Tegoshi has to remember to breathe.
He wonders what Masuda’s been doing since last night, because now, he’s different. He’s not awkward or clumsy, he knows what he’s doing, lips and hands driving Tegoshi crazy. “Massu,” he whines, growing hot and frustrated from Masuda’s teasing. “Massu, please…”
“You’re begging? That’s new, Yuya.” Masuda tosses Tegoshi’s jeans on the floor, mixed with the rest of their clothes, kicking off his own pants as he crawls over Tegoshi.
He smirks, says “Don’t look so happy about it,” among sharp breaths. Masuda smiles at him, that smile that’s made his heart race since the first time he saw it, kisses his lips, slow and wet, distracting Tegoshi as he touches him inside with a cool, wet finger. Tegoshi moans into Masuda’s mouth, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He pulls back, lips nearly touching Masuda’s face as he asks, no begs, again. This time, Masuda listens, making Tegoshi’s back arch when he pushes inside.
As Masuda thrusts into him, harder and faster each time, Tegoshi loses himself. He forgets about that loveless home, the people in that school that school that keep them apart all day, he knows he mumbling words, but he’s not sure what they are. All that matters in Masuda, touching him between his legs, hitting that spot inside him that makes the world turn white. “Massu, Massu, do that again.” He obeys, brings Tegoshi closer and closer.
Tegoshi turns his head, starts trailing kisses down Masuda’s neck, but he’s quickly pushed away, Masuda’s hand forcing his head back onto the pillow. “I want to see you.” It’s what Masuda wants, he just nods, looks him the eye until he comes, biting his lip and whimpering, head tossed back. Masuda follows moments later, shouting Yuya through the room, resting his head on Tegoshi’s chest, shallow breaths in sync with one another.
Masuda rolls onto the other side of the bed, leans in to kiss the corner of Tegoshi’s mouth. “You’re amazing, Yuya.”
When he thinks about it later, that would have been the perfect moment to look Masuda in the eye and say I love you. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t, saying, “I try,” in response to Masuda’s compliment. It sounds so arrogant and he hates himself for it.
He watches Masuda’s face, waits until he sees him fall asleep, lightly takes his hand before he closes his own eyes. In that moment, he feels like they’re a real couple. Him and his Massu.
++++
In the morning, Tegoshi is first out of bed, buttoning his uniform and fixing his hair in the mirror of the hotel room. Every couple seconds, he glances at Masuda’s reflection, tangled in white sheets, eyes closed. He climbs back on to the bed, slowly, carefully, so as not to wake him, lays his head on the pillow, lightly rubbing the back of Masuda’s hand with his fingers. “I love you, Massu. I love you so much,” he says, voice barely a whisper. Tegoshi laughs softly to himself. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you that. When you’re ready to be with me.”
He lays there like that, watching Masuda’s chest rise and fall, for as long as he can, until he has to wake him up for school.
++++
The school isn’t very far from the hotel. They walk there together, Masuda holding Tegoshi’s hand tightly, talking and laughing about meaningless things. When the building comes into view, Masuda drops his hand, Tegoshi feels like his heart drops with it.
He stops walking, Tegoshi understands why, puts on a smile like it doesn’t bother him. “Go. I’ll wait for a bit. No one has to see us together.”
“Yuya…” Masuda’s voice sounds apologetic, but there’s no rejection to what he said.
“It’s fine. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be seen with me either.” It’s true, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t painful to say out loud. Masuda looks like he wants to say something, but Tegoshi knows as well as he must that there’s nothing he could otherwise say that wouldn’t be a lie. He settles for kissing him instead, softly at first, then deeply, tongue slipping between Tegoshi’s lips.
When he starts heading down the street, he turns around, walks backwards. “I call you later. Or I’ll see you. One of those, definitely.” He trips on the curb, arms flying out to keep his balance, it makes Tegoshi laugh out loud. He watches Masuda until he reaches that familiar sea of black uniforms, sees him wave his arm excitedly when he sees a friend. It reminds him the he probably needs Masuda more than Masuda will ever need him, and that thought is strangely painful.
++++
October. The last three months have been nothing short of amazing, Tegoshi thinks. He meets Masuda at least once every day, sometimes for passionate encounters, sometimes just to talk, to confide in each other on a level they can’t with anyone else. For Masuda, this month is no different from the previous ones. For Tegoshi, it’s the beginning of the most painful three months of his high school life.
It starts one afternoon in the cafeteria, he and Masuda exchanging their daily glances, smiling, subtly blowing each other kisses across the room. A classmate of Tegoshi’s takes a seat next him, his friends surrounding him like this is some sort of intervention. “Hey, Tegoshi,” he says, putting a hand on his shoulder, Tegoshi’s not sure what to think, if someone not named Masuda is actually being nice to him or if this guy has shown up to tease about something. “I was at the library the other day,” shit, “thought I saw something pretty fucked up. Sounded like you were really enjoying yourself, getting nailed by some fat kid.”
“He’s not fat.” Fuck.
His classmate laughs, his friends snickering. “I guess it’s no surprise. You always did have that look about you. You’re a little homo, aren’t you, Tegoshi?” He looks at the table, sighs when they laugh at him again. “Who is he? Come on, tell us, we’ll bring him over here. You want to go at it right here in front of everyone, don’t you, you fag.” Tegoshi glances up, sees Masuda looking in his direction with sad eyes, posture saying he’s going to stand up and try save him any minute. Tegoshi silently mouths at him not to, pretends to let the words roll of his back.
He’s late to his next class, sitting alone in the bathroom, crying so hard he has to vomit. There had been times when he thought everything would be fine, that no one would care if he held Masuda’s hand in the hallway or kissed him outside his classroom. But, no, that’s not true, not at this age. He cries for himself, the fact he’ll now be known as that gay kid, gone will be playboy, ladies man reputation, the apathy towards him, masking envy. He cries for Masuda, too, out of fear and pity, thinking about what would happen to him if everyone found out. He had friends and classmates who loved him, more to lose than Tegoshi does.
He tries to tell himself that once he’s graduated, he’ll look back and none of this will matter. In the future, he’ll laugh at himself for thinking this was such a huge problem. But he’s not living in the future, this is the present and right now, he’s in emotional hell. He doesn’t want Masuda to join him in that.
++++
The bedroom door slams behind him, much louder than he wanted it to be. He crosses his little room, lets his body drop lazily onto his bed, onto the mattress he desperately wishes Masuda was fucking him into each night his back fell onto it. Masuda is the best thing that could have happened to him, and tonight, he said the words Tegoshi had been waiting to hear from him. I love you, Yuya. But what did he and his infallible logic say? Fall out of love. Why did he say that? He loves Masuda, more than he’s loved anyone, so why did he shoot him down like that?
No, he didn’t have to ask himself. He knew why he did it. All he had to do was think back two days, when a group of boys cornered him the locker room after PE, made him strip down to his underwear, calling him derogatory names, laughing at his thin body. They made him pose, “like the gay little slut you are,” finding it hilarious, taking pictures with their phones before leaving him alone. Tegoshi fell against the lockers, crying, burying his face in the jacket of his uniform. He pulled out his phone, paused on the name Massu on his contact list, wanting to call him, let Masuda comfort him silently. But he doesn’t. He’s started to distance himself, thinking it will somehow save Masuda from the kind of humiliation he’s had to put up with.
He’s pushing Masuda away, and, after tonight, Masuda starts doing the same.
++++
By December, Masuda has cut off communication completely. Suddenly, he doesn’t meet Tegoshi in the janitor’s closet, doesn’t answer his calls, doesn’t even look at him when they pass in the halls. At first, it’s like a knife in his heart. He cries himself to sleep at night, mumbles Masuda’s name along with the sobs, face buried into his pillow so his father doesn’t explode at him for making noise.
As the month goes by, it still hurts why he sees Masuda, laughing and smiling with friends as if there had never been anything between them, but now the pain was mixed with anger. He could understand if Masuda was upset about Tegoshi’s response to his confession, he would even understand if Masuda had decided to break it off rather than stick with someone who claimed he’d never love him back. But he could have at least had the decency to tell him rather than abandoning him.
On the last day of class before winter break, he’s had enough. Enough of taking the pain and anger without question. He knew they had an unspoken agreement not to act like they knew each other in public, and when Masuda was with him, Tegoshi was fine with it. It kept Masuda away from the judgment of his peers. But right now, he didn’t care about that.
Tegoshi stops in the middle of the hallway, sees Masuda, laughing about something with his friends a few feet from the door to the school. He shouts, “Massu!” at the top of his lungs, it’s out before he can really think about it. Masuda stops walking, looks back in his direction, staring at him like the other students walking down the hall, keeping out of Tegoshi’s line of sight. He ignores them, ignores everything around him except Masuda. He shouts at him again, voice intentionally loud to get his attention, asking why he’s avoiding him, why Masuda cut him out of his life.
Masuda shifts his weight like he’s thinking about what he should do before stepping towards Tegoshi, stopping inches away from his face. “Maybe I’m sick of being nothing more that someone to help you relieve your sexual frustration,” he says, voice barely a whisper, face panicked.
“You’re ignoring me because I wouldn’t say I’m in love with you?” he responds, unaware that he’s still shouting, unaware that he’s pretty much outed Masuda.
He tells Tegoshi to be quiet, voice shaking. When he doesn’t listen, Masuda turns on his heel and heads for the door. “We’re done, Tegoshi.”
Tegoshi watches him walk away, snap at his friends, realizes what he’s done, wishes he could take it back. “Massu, don’t walk out on me!” he shouts as Masuda pushes through the door, hoping the he hears the desperation in his voice. “Don’t leave me alone!” He can’t see Masuda anymore, but he keeps yelling as if he’ll hear. “I love you! I’m sorry! Massu, I love you!”
Masuda doesn’t come back, he never heard. Tegoshi made it worse for no reason, whispers and soft laughs between students in the quiet hallway echoing in his head.
++++
Christmas is miserable. He’d been looking so forward to it, to ditching his family to be with Masuda. That obviously didn’t happen. He feels terrible, wants more than anything to apologize, fall on his knees and beg Masuda to forgive him, even if he doesn’t want to take him back. Going to Masuda’s house to do that is out of the question, though. Instead, he finds himself knocking on the door of one of Masuda’s friends, one of those people he’s always laughing with.
A middle-aged woman answers the door, Tegoshi searches his mind for the name of the person he’s looking for. “Is Shigeaki here?” he asks slowly, fingers tugging on the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. When Shigeaki comes to the door, he doesn’t look happy.
“What do you want?” he says, a hint of unpleasantness in his voice.
It’s been a long time since Tegoshi felt this inarticulate. “I…Do you know where I can find Massu…Masuda?”
“Haven’t you done enough to him already?”
“I just…I…”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Shigeaki cuts him off.
“Why?”
“He didn’t tell you? He’s leaving the country.”
Tegoshi feels his eyes well up, suddenly and inexplicably. “When?”
“Couple days.” He starts closing the door, adding, “You shouldn’t bother him anymore,” before slamming it in Tegoshi’s face.
On the walk home, he feels numb, empty, like something inside him has died. When he gets back, he wanders the house aimlessly, opens cabinets in the kitchen, looking at food he doesn’t want to eat. He notices something on the counter, a medium sized package tucked into the corner. Out of curiosity, he looks at it, sees his own name written in big letters, the return address makes his stomach tighten. Masuda Takahisa.
He picks it up, hurrying into the living room, standing between his mother and the television, showing the brown box in her face. “When did this come?”
“I don’t know. A month ago. Get out of the way, will you? You’re always in the way.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“I forgot about it,” she says. It makes Tegoshi furious, he storms off into his room, locks the door behind him.
For far too long, he stares at it, sits it in front of him on the bed, stares at Masuda’s name in the corner. It’s a tiny thing that for some reason makes Tegoshi’s heart hurt. He opens the package slowly, inside is a phone, a strap attached with a cute pig hanging off the end. There’s a note underneath it, scribbled in Masuda’s handwriting.
You said your phone wasn’t working, so I got you a new one. Sorry it’s so late. Call me when you get it, okay?
I know you said not to, but I can’t help it - I love you, Yuya. Happy 16th birthday! Massu.
Tegoshi doesn’t notice until there are wet drops on the paper that he’s crying. He falls back, clutching the phone and note to his chest, a sob escaping his throat. “Massu…”
++++
He tries to sleep that night, but he can’t. When he hears the door of his parents’ room close, he pulls a guitar from under his bed, a gift from his late grandmother, begins quietly strumming a sad melody. The next time he checks the time, it’s past one o’clock. He can’t sleep, there’s just no way. All he can think about is Masuda, how much he doesn’t want their last encounter to be the last memory he has of him. He grabs him coat, quietly makes his way down the hall, out the door.
It’s late, the only lights being the moonlight and an occasional streetlamp. Before he knows it, Tegoshi is standing outside Masuda’s house. There’s a light on in one window, if his memory of the house is accurate, it’s Masuda’s room. His first thought is to yell up to him, but he quickly rethinks that, that’s too loud, there’s too much risk in it. He decides to throw something instead, it’s more direct and quiet. There are rocks spread out along bushes on the side of the property, he picks up a small one, throws in the direction of the window with the light on, misses completely. He curses silently and tries again, hitting it this time with a soft tap.
He throws one after another, muttering come on, Massu, until he sees a shadow move across the window, Masuda pushing the curtains out of the way, looking out at the street. Tegoshi feels slightly stupid about it, but it makes him want to cry just seeing him again. It seems like it’s been so long. He throws one more and Masuda looks down, eyes wide. Tegoshi can’t tell if he’s happy to see him or not, waves him down so they can talk. Masuda nods, disappears from the window. In a few seconds, he’s coming out the front door.
Tegoshi doesn’t give Masuda a chance to speak, asks where he’s going, tells him he can’t leave, tries his hardest not to cry. When Masuda asks why, Tegoshi answers by giving him a kiss, a light brush of lips, and a confession. “I love you.” He explains himself, doesn’t hide anything about how he feels. Masuda, as Tegoshi has come to expect, accepts it, accepts him. Tegoshi doesn’t know what he expects Masuda to do. Beg his parents to stay? Take Tegoshi with them? Neither were going to happen, they both know that well.
Masuda holds him tightly, kisses him hard, somehow full of emotion, offers a solution that never crossed Tegoshi’s mind when they pull apart. “Yuya, run away with me.” Tegoshi agrees, lets tears fall from his eyes
They separate there to gather up their important possessions, some clothes, whatever cash they can find and stuff in their pockets. Tegoshi sneaks into his parents’ room, grabs the rest of the money hidden in the bottom drawer of the dresser. He whispers goodbye to his mother, whether she’d care to hear it or not, before rushing off to meet Masuda.
They head off to the train station, set on hoping on the first one, no matter what the destination. It’s Tokyo.
++++
The city is large, so much more than they’re used to. Masuda holds his hand tightly as if Tegoshi would disappear into the crowd if he didn’t. It makes Tegoshi smile, Masuda holding his hand openly, in public. They get a hotel that first day. It’s more expensive than they thought, takes more out of their stash than they would have liked. They think about looking for jobs, for an apartment, but they decide to start all that tomorrow, choosing instead to make love in their hotel room until they’re utterly exhausted.
It’s barely dark out when they’re ready to go to sleep, make up for lack of it the previous night. Masuda turns on the television, puts on some late night show they don’t pay much attention to. Tegoshi rests his head on Masuda’s chest, arms wrapped around his waist. He feels Masuda kiss his hair. “Yuya?” he says, Tegoshi tilts his head to look him in the eye. “Thanks for coming here with me.”
He smiles, kisses the corner of Masuda’s mouth, “You don’t have to thank me.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did.”
-------------------------------
I thought most of this thing up on vacation. I blame my sister, who put me in a Johnny's mood by pausing on the Japanese station on the hotel TV coincidently at the time The Shounen Club happened to be on XD She got to hear me fangirl Koyama for the next three days.
This fic was weird to write...even though it follows the same basic flow as Brightside, I just felt darker writing. I don't know if it feels that way reading it, but it just felt different XD
I'm not sure if I'm happy with where I ended it, but if I didn't, I don't think it would ever end XD
author: hika_nishi
pairing: masuda/tegoshi
rating: r
disclaimer: I own the computer I typed this on. That's it.
summary: With anyone else, there was never a relationship, never another meeting. With Masuda, it was, as it always was with him, different.
note: this is basically Brightside: Tegoshi version. I'm not sure necessary to read that one first, but it wouldn't hurt.
It’s that smile that he sees first. He’s not sure why it stood out among the monochrome collection of students, but, on that chilly day in late autumn, when he was barely fifteen, it did. It made him feel strange inside, comfortable and warm, what makes it stranger is he doesn’t even know this kid. But in that moment, he wished he did. Later he’d realize that it was that moment when he fell in love, hard and sudden, with the boy he’d later affectionately call Massu.
Since that day, Tegoshi has always been looking for him, in the cafeteria, the halls, the classrooms. He seems generally well liked, this boy, always laughing with his friends, creating a positive mood even around people he wasn’t that close to. Tegoshi sneaks out of class a few times, stands outside the gym door when he knows the boy has PE, watching him do almost every activity with ease. It makes him hot, makes him need to find a cute and willing girl or curious guy, someone to be a distraction. They always fall for the act, the aloof, smug, promiscuous player who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. There are sometimes, while he’s pinning some stranger against the tiled wall of the bathroom, when he thinks, even for a moment, that he really is that person. But then he’ll see that boy again, see him smile, and he’ll remember how pathetic a person he really is. A person so desperate to feel loved that he’s earned himself this disdainful reputation, so desperate to feel connected to another person that he’s practically stalking someone he’s never actually met.
On the cold afternoon of the first of December, blue sky hiding behind a blanket of clouds, he follows the boy home from school, finds out where he lives, feet seeming to move despite his mind telling how wrong this was. He wants this boy to see him, wants him to be as draw to Tegoshi as Tegoshi is to him.
++++
In mid December, he gets his wish. Tegoshi bikes passed him, closer than he intended, but secretly he hopes that guy noticed, hopes he yells something at him, that he’ll have to turn around, look him in the eye. But he doesn’t say anything, Tegoshi thinks he’s in for another disappointing day. He chains his bike up among the dozens of others lining the school wall, his movements making his frustration obvious to anyone, that is if anyone cared to pay much attention to him.
Today, one person did. When Tegoshi looks up, he’s staring at him. He notices the boy blush when their eyes meet across the school ground, Tegoshi winking at him without thinking about it. He sealed their fate in that moment.
++++
Tegoshi learns his name a few days later. Masuda. He gets it that day when he sees him duck into the men’s restroom, takes it as an opportunity and follows him inside. He thought this would be a challenge, seducing Masuda, but in the end, all it takes was a few words, a slight pout, a soft kiss. Masuda’s lips feel just like he thought they would, damp and soft. Masuda surprises him after that, taking full control of the situation, pushing him into the back stall where Tegoshi usually led his prey, kissing him hard, unfastening the buttons of his uniform.
It was almost funny, the thought of the known good boy behaving like this. Like a normal horny teenager. It’s probably a good thing for Masuda, if Tegoshi thought that now, there was no way other students would believe it. Tegoshi giggles as Masuda’s lips dance over newly exposed skin. No one has ever done this to him before, but then again, he’d never been the victim before. Seemingly on their own, one hand grips Masuda’s arm tightly, the other reaching out and touching his thigh, works it’s way up until it finds the place between his legs. Tegoshi smiles to himself when he feels that Masuda’s hard, knowing it’s for him. There’s a part of him that hopes Masuda intends to do him right there, against the cool tile of a school restroom, but then again, it’s not exactly the place he wants to think of when remembers his first time.
As it turns out, those thoughts didn’t matter, when a middle aged man pushes the stall door open. He doesn’t look surprised to see Tegoshi, Masuda on the other hand leaves him visibly stunned.
Tegoshi gets sparred expulsion, Masuda taking all the blame for their behavior. He thinks that was a stupid thing to do, blaming Tegoshi would have been so easy, but in his heart, it makes him feel that Masuda honestly cares about him. Someone cares about him.
That’s the moment he knows it himself. He’s really in love.
++++
With anyone else, there was never a relationship, never another meeting. With Masuda, it was, as it always was with him, different. What they had, Tegoshi called a friendship, at least to Masuda, but even he would admit it was more than that.
Through the winter and spring, they meet out of sight other people, Tegoshi giving him passionate kisses in empty stairwells, dimly lit corners, and the janitor’s closet, touching him in ways that Tegoshi knows would make Masuda want him. He invites Masuda to a beach in the next town over when the warm summer days arrive. He has his reasons for doing it, other than enjoying a day in the sun, motives that aren’t exactly pure. Besides, no one knows them here, no chance of some fellow student walking by, seeing Masuda as he flicks his tongue in Tegoshi’s navel. He really thinks it will happen here, that Masuda will take the lead again, take him to some beachside hotel, fuck his brains out.
But he doesn’t. On the bus ride home, Tegoshi does his best to hide his disappointment.
++++
Masuda takes Tegoshi to his house in early July, meeting him on the corner of a street behind the school, one that students rarely took home. Today turned out to be Masuda’s birthday. They’ve known each other for six months, but this is the first time he’s been inside Masuda’s house. He knows why, it was no secret that Masuda’s mother wasn’t fond of him. When Tegoshi stopped by after school one day, she screamed at him to leave, to stay away from her son.
But he was here now, looking at pictures on walls and tables, printed memories of parties and trips, a family portrait hanging near the staircase. Everything is so neat, so in order, Tegoshi thinks it resembles a catalog spread more than something that was actually lived in. Or maybe that’s just because it completely different from his house. This was filled with warmth of a family, Masuda’s face smiling from every photo, reflect parents who loved their son. Tegoshi couldn’t think of a single picture of himself that his parents had the pride to display in their living room.
Masuda calls for him from the staircase, addresses him as Yuya. Tegoshi can’t remember when he started calling him by his first name, but he never corrects him. His own mother rarely called him Yuya, usually addressing him as you or boy. It feels intimate and he likes it.
He’s led up to Masuda’s room, hand tugging at his wrist. His room is neat, everything organized, in it’s place, blue sheets on his bed tucked in snuggly. Tegoshi walks around, studying the room’s every detail as if it will reveal some secret about Masuda that he’d otherwise never learn. Masuda stands in the middle of the room, shuffling his feet nervously, Tegoshi thinks to ask if something is on his mind. When he finally speaks up, Tegoshi is surprised by what he says. He asks for a present, for sex. Tegoshi acts nonchalant about it, like it’s not the first time someone has said that to him. He laughs, cracks a joke, all in an effort to hide the fact that he’s waited months for Masuda to want him like that. Masuda ducks into a corner, cheeks turning a bright pink. He hops on the bed when Masuda’s back is turned, excitedly unfastens the first few buttons on his shirt, puts on one of those seductive looks he practiced in the bathroom mirror at home.
When Masuda is kneeling in front of him, clumsily unfastening the buttons of his shirt, the clasp of his belt, Tegoshi feels his stomach tighten. Now that it’s actually happening, he’s afraid. Afraid this will hurt, afraid of what it will do their already strange relationship. But he takes an odd comfort in the fact that Masuda is obviously as inexperienced as he is. Masuda is surprised by this, it leaves Tegoshi feeling slightly insulted, disappointed that Masuda saw him as a slut just like everyone else. But when Masuda is lying over him, pants around his ankles, that doesn’t really seem important anymore.
It was perfect, or at least it could have been. They don’t quite make it to perfect, not before Masuda’s mother comes home, poking her head into his room without warning, smiling like some phony 50s sitcom mom. She screams something incoherent, high pitched, Masuda’s face looks mortified. He rolls off Tegoshi, messes with his clothes until he looks decent enough to follow her out the door. Tegoshi lies there for a moment, humiliated, but more disappointed that they didn’t get far enough to make him see stars or whatever people said. He can hear Masuda’s voice from downstairs, his mother’s piercing voice, crying, outing him to his father. He gets off the bed slowly, pulling up his pants and buttoning his shirt. It’s never going to happen here now. He can tell he’s never going to be allowed back here again.
++++
There’s no moon out tonight, likely hiding behind the heavy clouds dropping rain down on him as he makes his way home. It seems appropriate, this weather. It matches his mood, dark and heavy. When he gets to his house, opens his door, there’s no welcome home, not even a worried where have you been. No, he’s greeted with his father shouting, “Don’t drip water all over the floor,” voice sounding slurred. Tegoshi sees a half empty glass bottle on the side table next to him. Drunk, it’s the usual sight he comes home to, like having a good job and a family was just not the way he wanted his life to turn out.
His mother is in the kitchen, dumping dishes in the sink. He stands in the doorway, hopes, as he always does, for some kind of response from her. He says, “I’m home,” in a quiet voice, she looks at him, an expression the usual mix of disappointment and anger. Deep in her eyes, Tegoshi thinks he sees a touch of something when she looks at him. Somewhere inside, he knows she loves him. Or maybe he’s just fooling himself.
She sighs heavily, exasperated. “If you’re going to be this late,” she says, slamming a dish on the counter, “you just shouldn’t come home at all.” Tegoshi hangs his head, mumbles an apology, before heading down the hall to his room. He closes the door behind him, still hearing the sound of studio laughter from the television in the living, sound passing through the thin wood.
He sits down on his bed, springs creaking under the weight, looks around his room, empty walls and dull colors. He compares it to Masuda’s room, warm and organized, full of color and possessions that made it look like someone actually lived in it. His own room looked like a prison cell in comparison. He stands up, kicks off his jeans, pulls on a pair of soft sweatpants, falls back on to his bed, shifting his position until his head is rested on a surprisingly comfortable pillow. The television is loud, too loud for him to sleep while it’s on. There were times he used to think about why his father turned the volume so high so late. By now he realized, the man was trying to drown out the sound of his family.
Tegoshi had his way of doing that, too. He lets his mind wander, thinks about sports and school and how it felt when Masuda was inside him. He gets up, opens the door quietly, sneaks across the hall, into his parents room. He kneels down next to their dresser, digs under the old clothes in the bottom drawer, pulling out money they thought they’d hid so successfully from him. Tegoshi fans it out, counts how much he has, hurries back across the hall with a smile on his face.
The next day at school, he has a surprise for Masuda.
++++
He drags the toe of his shoe across the ground, writing letters to pass the agonizing time while he waits for Masuda to show up in the hotel lobby. They had decided at school, between kisses in the janitor’s closet, to meet here, this average hotel, to finish what they started. He brought the money, thinking it in some way made up the trouble he’d gotten Masuda into last night, ending his birthday on a sour note, but he needed Masuda to get the room. They wouldn’t rent one out to a fifteen year old, especially one that looked like as much of a kid as he did. So he was left to sit here, waiting, glancing increasingly often at the glass entrance doors.
Masuda finally arrives, only five minutes late it turned out, hurrying over to Tegoshi, pulling him toward the counter. He hasn’t said a word, and that would make Tegoshi worry, if it wasn’t for the smile or the look in Masuda’s eyes. Tegoshi finds Masuda’s behavior amusing, doesn’t hide the smile in response to how he hurries down the carpeted hall, fumbles with the card to unlock the door.
“Thanks for this, Yuya,” Masuda says quietly, smiling shyly before kissing him deeply, Tegoshi grabbing the hem of his shirt, pulling him toward the bed closest to the door. When he lifts his shirt, Masuda stops him, pulls away. Tegoshi stares back at him confused, wondering what he did wrong. Masuda laughs at his expression, he probably had that coming with all the times he found Masuda’s faces so amusing. “Don’t go so fast,” he says softly, lowering Tegoshi gently onto the mattress. “And let me take the lead, okay? This is supposed to be for my birthday, right?” Tegoshi nods, looking at him with wide eyes.
Tegoshi feels like he’s being emotionally tortured, not by anything Masuda does, but by the pace he takes. He throws his own shirt to the side, lets Tegoshi slide small hands across his chest before leaning down, kissing the spot of exposed skin between the hem of Tegoshi’s shirt and his pants. He pushes the boy’s shirt up, lips moving across his stomach and chest, tongue dipping into his navel, flicking his nipples. Tegoshi has to remember to breathe.
He wonders what Masuda’s been doing since last night, because now, he’s different. He’s not awkward or clumsy, he knows what he’s doing, lips and hands driving Tegoshi crazy. “Massu,” he whines, growing hot and frustrated from Masuda’s teasing. “Massu, please…”
“You’re begging? That’s new, Yuya.” Masuda tosses Tegoshi’s jeans on the floor, mixed with the rest of their clothes, kicking off his own pants as he crawls over Tegoshi.
He smirks, says “Don’t look so happy about it,” among sharp breaths. Masuda smiles at him, that smile that’s made his heart race since the first time he saw it, kisses his lips, slow and wet, distracting Tegoshi as he touches him inside with a cool, wet finger. Tegoshi moans into Masuda’s mouth, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He pulls back, lips nearly touching Masuda’s face as he asks, no begs, again. This time, Masuda listens, making Tegoshi’s back arch when he pushes inside.
As Masuda thrusts into him, harder and faster each time, Tegoshi loses himself. He forgets about that loveless home, the people in that school that school that keep them apart all day, he knows he mumbling words, but he’s not sure what they are. All that matters in Masuda, touching him between his legs, hitting that spot inside him that makes the world turn white. “Massu, Massu, do that again.” He obeys, brings Tegoshi closer and closer.
Tegoshi turns his head, starts trailing kisses down Masuda’s neck, but he’s quickly pushed away, Masuda’s hand forcing his head back onto the pillow. “I want to see you.” It’s what Masuda wants, he just nods, looks him the eye until he comes, biting his lip and whimpering, head tossed back. Masuda follows moments later, shouting Yuya through the room, resting his head on Tegoshi’s chest, shallow breaths in sync with one another.
Masuda rolls onto the other side of the bed, leans in to kiss the corner of Tegoshi’s mouth. “You’re amazing, Yuya.”
When he thinks about it later, that would have been the perfect moment to look Masuda in the eye and say I love you. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t, saying, “I try,” in response to Masuda’s compliment. It sounds so arrogant and he hates himself for it.
He watches Masuda’s face, waits until he sees him fall asleep, lightly takes his hand before he closes his own eyes. In that moment, he feels like they’re a real couple. Him and his Massu.
++++
In the morning, Tegoshi is first out of bed, buttoning his uniform and fixing his hair in the mirror of the hotel room. Every couple seconds, he glances at Masuda’s reflection, tangled in white sheets, eyes closed. He climbs back on to the bed, slowly, carefully, so as not to wake him, lays his head on the pillow, lightly rubbing the back of Masuda’s hand with his fingers. “I love you, Massu. I love you so much,” he says, voice barely a whisper. Tegoshi laughs softly to himself. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you that. When you’re ready to be with me.”
He lays there like that, watching Masuda’s chest rise and fall, for as long as he can, until he has to wake him up for school.
++++
The school isn’t very far from the hotel. They walk there together, Masuda holding Tegoshi’s hand tightly, talking and laughing about meaningless things. When the building comes into view, Masuda drops his hand, Tegoshi feels like his heart drops with it.
He stops walking, Tegoshi understands why, puts on a smile like it doesn’t bother him. “Go. I’ll wait for a bit. No one has to see us together.”
“Yuya…” Masuda’s voice sounds apologetic, but there’s no rejection to what he said.
“It’s fine. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be seen with me either.” It’s true, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t painful to say out loud. Masuda looks like he wants to say something, but Tegoshi knows as well as he must that there’s nothing he could otherwise say that wouldn’t be a lie. He settles for kissing him instead, softly at first, then deeply, tongue slipping between Tegoshi’s lips.
When he starts heading down the street, he turns around, walks backwards. “I call you later. Or I’ll see you. One of those, definitely.” He trips on the curb, arms flying out to keep his balance, it makes Tegoshi laugh out loud. He watches Masuda until he reaches that familiar sea of black uniforms, sees him wave his arm excitedly when he sees a friend. It reminds him the he probably needs Masuda more than Masuda will ever need him, and that thought is strangely painful.
++++
October. The last three months have been nothing short of amazing, Tegoshi thinks. He meets Masuda at least once every day, sometimes for passionate encounters, sometimes just to talk, to confide in each other on a level they can’t with anyone else. For Masuda, this month is no different from the previous ones. For Tegoshi, it’s the beginning of the most painful three months of his high school life.
It starts one afternoon in the cafeteria, he and Masuda exchanging their daily glances, smiling, subtly blowing each other kisses across the room. A classmate of Tegoshi’s takes a seat next him, his friends surrounding him like this is some sort of intervention. “Hey, Tegoshi,” he says, putting a hand on his shoulder, Tegoshi’s not sure what to think, if someone not named Masuda is actually being nice to him or if this guy has shown up to tease about something. “I was at the library the other day,” shit, “thought I saw something pretty fucked up. Sounded like you were really enjoying yourself, getting nailed by some fat kid.”
“He’s not fat.” Fuck.
His classmate laughs, his friends snickering. “I guess it’s no surprise. You always did have that look about you. You’re a little homo, aren’t you, Tegoshi?” He looks at the table, sighs when they laugh at him again. “Who is he? Come on, tell us, we’ll bring him over here. You want to go at it right here in front of everyone, don’t you, you fag.” Tegoshi glances up, sees Masuda looking in his direction with sad eyes, posture saying he’s going to stand up and try save him any minute. Tegoshi silently mouths at him not to, pretends to let the words roll of his back.
He’s late to his next class, sitting alone in the bathroom, crying so hard he has to vomit. There had been times when he thought everything would be fine, that no one would care if he held Masuda’s hand in the hallway or kissed him outside his classroom. But, no, that’s not true, not at this age. He cries for himself, the fact he’ll now be known as that gay kid, gone will be playboy, ladies man reputation, the apathy towards him, masking envy. He cries for Masuda, too, out of fear and pity, thinking about what would happen to him if everyone found out. He had friends and classmates who loved him, more to lose than Tegoshi does.
He tries to tell himself that once he’s graduated, he’ll look back and none of this will matter. In the future, he’ll laugh at himself for thinking this was such a huge problem. But he’s not living in the future, this is the present and right now, he’s in emotional hell. He doesn’t want Masuda to join him in that.
++++
The bedroom door slams behind him, much louder than he wanted it to be. He crosses his little room, lets his body drop lazily onto his bed, onto the mattress he desperately wishes Masuda was fucking him into each night his back fell onto it. Masuda is the best thing that could have happened to him, and tonight, he said the words Tegoshi had been waiting to hear from him. I love you, Yuya. But what did he and his infallible logic say? Fall out of love. Why did he say that? He loves Masuda, more than he’s loved anyone, so why did he shoot him down like that?
No, he didn’t have to ask himself. He knew why he did it. All he had to do was think back two days, when a group of boys cornered him the locker room after PE, made him strip down to his underwear, calling him derogatory names, laughing at his thin body. They made him pose, “like the gay little slut you are,” finding it hilarious, taking pictures with their phones before leaving him alone. Tegoshi fell against the lockers, crying, burying his face in the jacket of his uniform. He pulled out his phone, paused on the name Massu on his contact list, wanting to call him, let Masuda comfort him silently. But he doesn’t. He’s started to distance himself, thinking it will somehow save Masuda from the kind of humiliation he’s had to put up with.
He’s pushing Masuda away, and, after tonight, Masuda starts doing the same.
++++
By December, Masuda has cut off communication completely. Suddenly, he doesn’t meet Tegoshi in the janitor’s closet, doesn’t answer his calls, doesn’t even look at him when they pass in the halls. At first, it’s like a knife in his heart. He cries himself to sleep at night, mumbles Masuda’s name along with the sobs, face buried into his pillow so his father doesn’t explode at him for making noise.
As the month goes by, it still hurts why he sees Masuda, laughing and smiling with friends as if there had never been anything between them, but now the pain was mixed with anger. He could understand if Masuda was upset about Tegoshi’s response to his confession, he would even understand if Masuda had decided to break it off rather than stick with someone who claimed he’d never love him back. But he could have at least had the decency to tell him rather than abandoning him.
On the last day of class before winter break, he’s had enough. Enough of taking the pain and anger without question. He knew they had an unspoken agreement not to act like they knew each other in public, and when Masuda was with him, Tegoshi was fine with it. It kept Masuda away from the judgment of his peers. But right now, he didn’t care about that.
Tegoshi stops in the middle of the hallway, sees Masuda, laughing about something with his friends a few feet from the door to the school. He shouts, “Massu!” at the top of his lungs, it’s out before he can really think about it. Masuda stops walking, looks back in his direction, staring at him like the other students walking down the hall, keeping out of Tegoshi’s line of sight. He ignores them, ignores everything around him except Masuda. He shouts at him again, voice intentionally loud to get his attention, asking why he’s avoiding him, why Masuda cut him out of his life.
Masuda shifts his weight like he’s thinking about what he should do before stepping towards Tegoshi, stopping inches away from his face. “Maybe I’m sick of being nothing more that someone to help you relieve your sexual frustration,” he says, voice barely a whisper, face panicked.
“You’re ignoring me because I wouldn’t say I’m in love with you?” he responds, unaware that he’s still shouting, unaware that he’s pretty much outed Masuda.
He tells Tegoshi to be quiet, voice shaking. When he doesn’t listen, Masuda turns on his heel and heads for the door. “We’re done, Tegoshi.”
Tegoshi watches him walk away, snap at his friends, realizes what he’s done, wishes he could take it back. “Massu, don’t walk out on me!” he shouts as Masuda pushes through the door, hoping the he hears the desperation in his voice. “Don’t leave me alone!” He can’t see Masuda anymore, but he keeps yelling as if he’ll hear. “I love you! I’m sorry! Massu, I love you!”
Masuda doesn’t come back, he never heard. Tegoshi made it worse for no reason, whispers and soft laughs between students in the quiet hallway echoing in his head.
++++
Christmas is miserable. He’d been looking so forward to it, to ditching his family to be with Masuda. That obviously didn’t happen. He feels terrible, wants more than anything to apologize, fall on his knees and beg Masuda to forgive him, even if he doesn’t want to take him back. Going to Masuda’s house to do that is out of the question, though. Instead, he finds himself knocking on the door of one of Masuda’s friends, one of those people he’s always laughing with.
A middle-aged woman answers the door, Tegoshi searches his mind for the name of the person he’s looking for. “Is Shigeaki here?” he asks slowly, fingers tugging on the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. When Shigeaki comes to the door, he doesn’t look happy.
“What do you want?” he says, a hint of unpleasantness in his voice.
It’s been a long time since Tegoshi felt this inarticulate. “I…Do you know where I can find Massu…Masuda?”
“Haven’t you done enough to him already?”
“I just…I…”
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Shigeaki cuts him off.
“Why?”
“He didn’t tell you? He’s leaving the country.”
Tegoshi feels his eyes well up, suddenly and inexplicably. “When?”
“Couple days.” He starts closing the door, adding, “You shouldn’t bother him anymore,” before slamming it in Tegoshi’s face.
On the walk home, he feels numb, empty, like something inside him has died. When he gets back, he wanders the house aimlessly, opens cabinets in the kitchen, looking at food he doesn’t want to eat. He notices something on the counter, a medium sized package tucked into the corner. Out of curiosity, he looks at it, sees his own name written in big letters, the return address makes his stomach tighten. Masuda Takahisa.
He picks it up, hurrying into the living room, standing between his mother and the television, showing the brown box in her face. “When did this come?”
“I don’t know. A month ago. Get out of the way, will you? You’re always in the way.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“I forgot about it,” she says. It makes Tegoshi furious, he storms off into his room, locks the door behind him.
For far too long, he stares at it, sits it in front of him on the bed, stares at Masuda’s name in the corner. It’s a tiny thing that for some reason makes Tegoshi’s heart hurt. He opens the package slowly, inside is a phone, a strap attached with a cute pig hanging off the end. There’s a note underneath it, scribbled in Masuda’s handwriting.
You said your phone wasn’t working, so I got you a new one. Sorry it’s so late. Call me when you get it, okay?
I know you said not to, but I can’t help it - I love you, Yuya. Happy 16th birthday! Massu.
Tegoshi doesn’t notice until there are wet drops on the paper that he’s crying. He falls back, clutching the phone and note to his chest, a sob escaping his throat. “Massu…”
++++
He tries to sleep that night, but he can’t. When he hears the door of his parents’ room close, he pulls a guitar from under his bed, a gift from his late grandmother, begins quietly strumming a sad melody. The next time he checks the time, it’s past one o’clock. He can’t sleep, there’s just no way. All he can think about is Masuda, how much he doesn’t want their last encounter to be the last memory he has of him. He grabs him coat, quietly makes his way down the hall, out the door.
It’s late, the only lights being the moonlight and an occasional streetlamp. Before he knows it, Tegoshi is standing outside Masuda’s house. There’s a light on in one window, if his memory of the house is accurate, it’s Masuda’s room. His first thought is to yell up to him, but he quickly rethinks that, that’s too loud, there’s too much risk in it. He decides to throw something instead, it’s more direct and quiet. There are rocks spread out along bushes on the side of the property, he picks up a small one, throws in the direction of the window with the light on, misses completely. He curses silently and tries again, hitting it this time with a soft tap.
He throws one after another, muttering come on, Massu, until he sees a shadow move across the window, Masuda pushing the curtains out of the way, looking out at the street. Tegoshi feels slightly stupid about it, but it makes him want to cry just seeing him again. It seems like it’s been so long. He throws one more and Masuda looks down, eyes wide. Tegoshi can’t tell if he’s happy to see him or not, waves him down so they can talk. Masuda nods, disappears from the window. In a few seconds, he’s coming out the front door.
Tegoshi doesn’t give Masuda a chance to speak, asks where he’s going, tells him he can’t leave, tries his hardest not to cry. When Masuda asks why, Tegoshi answers by giving him a kiss, a light brush of lips, and a confession. “I love you.” He explains himself, doesn’t hide anything about how he feels. Masuda, as Tegoshi has come to expect, accepts it, accepts him. Tegoshi doesn’t know what he expects Masuda to do. Beg his parents to stay? Take Tegoshi with them? Neither were going to happen, they both know that well.
Masuda holds him tightly, kisses him hard, somehow full of emotion, offers a solution that never crossed Tegoshi’s mind when they pull apart. “Yuya, run away with me.” Tegoshi agrees, lets tears fall from his eyes
They separate there to gather up their important possessions, some clothes, whatever cash they can find and stuff in their pockets. Tegoshi sneaks into his parents’ room, grabs the rest of the money hidden in the bottom drawer of the dresser. He whispers goodbye to his mother, whether she’d care to hear it or not, before rushing off to meet Masuda.
They head off to the train station, set on hoping on the first one, no matter what the destination. It’s Tokyo.
++++
The city is large, so much more than they’re used to. Masuda holds his hand tightly as if Tegoshi would disappear into the crowd if he didn’t. It makes Tegoshi smile, Masuda holding his hand openly, in public. They get a hotel that first day. It’s more expensive than they thought, takes more out of their stash than they would have liked. They think about looking for jobs, for an apartment, but they decide to start all that tomorrow, choosing instead to make love in their hotel room until they’re utterly exhausted.
It’s barely dark out when they’re ready to go to sleep, make up for lack of it the previous night. Masuda turns on the television, puts on some late night show they don’t pay much attention to. Tegoshi rests his head on Masuda’s chest, arms wrapped around his waist. He feels Masuda kiss his hair. “Yuya?” he says, Tegoshi tilts his head to look him in the eye. “Thanks for coming here with me.”
He smiles, kisses the corner of Masuda’s mouth, “You don’t have to thank me.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did.”
-------------------------------
I thought most of this thing up on vacation. I blame my sister, who put me in a Johnny's mood by pausing on the Japanese station on the hotel TV coincidently at the time The Shounen Club happened to be on XD She got to hear me fangirl Koyama for the next three days.
This fic was weird to write...even though it follows the same basic flow as Brightside, I just felt darker writing. I don't know if it feels that way reading it, but it just felt different XD
I'm not sure if I'm happy with where I ended it, but if I didn't, I don't think it would ever end XD