Chapter Text
Goto isn’t sure what makes him say it, that night.
He knows why he's thinking it, of course. Weeks, months now, since the incident with Sawada, and he isn’t so unselfaware as to be surprised by his train of thought. The trajectory of his and Masayoshi’s relationship has become something inevitable. All he needs is time.
“You know you can sleep out here, right?”
Masayoshi looks down at Goto on the bed, halfway through the motions of shrugging off his body armour. It’s one of his newer costumes designed by Harazuka, but the scarf still hanging loosely around Masayoshi’s neck is older than that, the sight of it filling Goto with a warm wave of nostalgia. It’s inclusion tonight was purely functional; Masayoshi’s nose is still red from the cold.
“Eh?” Masayoshi finally responds, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. “I’m fine sleeping in the closet. I’d be in the way on the floor. You’d trip over me.”
Masayoshi walks over to the closet and pulls it open, shooting Goto a funny look, as if he needs reminding about their sleeping situation. Masayoshi’s futon and sleep things are tucked to the side at the bottom. Ignoring them for now, Masayoshi starts returning the parts of his costume to their places on the shelf above as he peels off each layer.
It’s become a familiar scene, these past few months. Masayoshi still goes out on patrol most nights, as if nothing had changed at all. As if littering and jaywalking were still just as important as the monster and alien threats that had long since been driven away. Each night, Masayoshi assures Goto that he’ll be fine, citing the same lack of monsters and aliens. Goto still waits up for him every night anyway, cell phone ready at his side in case of emergency. It doesn’t ring as much, these days. A good sign, in more ways than one.
And at the end of each uneventful night, Masayoshi sheds his hero mask, and curls up in Goto’s closet to sleep. Goto used to ask (tease) Masayoshi about when his new apartment would be ready. The answer was always soon, soon, soon. Goto had stopped asking a while ago, now, hoping answer couldn’t change in the absence of the question.
Goto could let his most recent question go, too, but he doesn’t.
“No, I meant,” he pauses. Inhale. Exhale. “I mean you could sleep on the bed, if you wanted.”
Masayoshi frowns. “I wouldn’t make you sleep in the closet, Goto-san.”
Goto has to stop himself from laughing. He wonders what horrifying look must be on his face at the effort. As if he wasn’t in the closet already, wholly unaware that he was until Masayoshi had ripped the door off the hinges, stark fucking naked. Goto’s taking his first tentative steps out into the room outside, braced against the damaged door frame, but of course it’s a movement too subtle for Masayoshi to notice. He steels himself.
“We can both sleep in the bed, idiot.”
“Oh.” Masayoshi’s red nose is joined by red cheeks.
Masayoshi stands there, unmoving for a moment, in just his boxers and an undershirt. The black bodysuit he wears under his armour is still balled-up in his arms.
“It’s just the heating in here isn’t the best.” Goto adds, a tentative step back to safety. “You must be cold.”
He doesn’t know why he says it. They both know the closet is the warmest place to be. The small space fills so quickly with body heat even as the heater struggles to fill the main room.
Masayoshi smiles anyway, like he’s just been entrusted with an important secret. “Yeah.”
When Masayoshi has folded away the last of his costume and turned out the lights, he slips into bed beside Goto. He’s as unselfconscious in this as he is in everything else, seemingly unaware of all the places they’re now touching under the covers.
One of Masayoshi’s feet is pressed on top of Goto’s own, frozen toes tucked under the leg of Goto’s sleep pants to poke at his shin. Goto feels the cold ghost of something else – a hand? – pass over the exposed skin of his abdomen, where his shirt has ridden up, but the sensation disappears as Masayoshi settles.
Goto stifles a sharp inhale, holding his breath as Masayoshi’s skin slowly finds equilibrium.
“Goodnight, Goto-san,” Masayoshi says, voice warming along with the rest of him.
Goto lets himself exhale. “Goodnight.”