#ieyasuxmitsunari

[ikesenhell]

Reunion

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 3. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Thanks to @missjudge-me for commissioning this! As always, I’m calling @a-shout-to-the-void IEYASU out in my work. 

---

Neither of them wanted to stop for the night, so they didn't. “It’s only, what, one day of straight driving?” He’d reasoned. She took over the Camaro and he snoozed in the passenger seat, lulled to sleep by ‘Journey of the Sorcerer’ by the Eagles humming under the droning road. Light streamed golden-orange through the windshield when he woke. 

“Hey there, sleepy,” she murmured. “Want some coffee?”

Masamune grunted assent, stretching out. “Fuck, it used to be a lot easier to sleep in the car.”

“We all used to be a lot younger.”

That was true. Still road-tired, he lolled his head to the side and rested it on her arm. She was warm and solid, scented like spices, the warm fabric of her flannel cushioning his forehead. Unbidden, he wondered what it would be like to wake up to her every day. 

Maryland was bright and sunny. They reached Ieyasu’s house around five a.m., a quaint, brick rancher in the outskirts of Baltimore. One very awake Mitsunari let them in (“I still haven’t recovered from jet lag and Tanzania’s time zone—hello!”) and they crashed in a heap on the plush grey couch. By noon, he woke to banging in the nearby kitchen. 

“Mitsunari, I said put that away, not dump it on the tiles—”

“—I’m so sorry, let me clean it up—”

“No! I don’t trust you with the damn broom, go sit down or find a turnip field and bury yourself in it again, clearly you’re underripe—”

Just like old times. Masamune grunted and rolled off the couch. She still napped on the other end, buried in decorative pillows and a blanket. “‘Yasu?”

Sure enough, the blonde peered grumpily from the nearby kitchen, dustpan in hand. Against the canary yellow walls, his green eyes were piercing. “Great, now you’re up. Now I have to deal with two idiots staggering around my kitchen.”

“Great to see you again, too. What’s going on?”

Mitsunari sheepishly set a tin on the counter. “I spilled green tea everywhere.”

“That was my fault,” Ieyasu groused. “I’m the idiot who forgot about Mitsunari’s inability to hold things. I can’t believe I forgot. Two years, and I went forgetting. What a wonderful two years it was, too.”

Either the other man didn't get the hint, or he looked straight past Ieyasu’s barbed tongue to the affection deep below the surface. “It was fun, getting to write you and send you pictures. You kept me very up to date.”

Masamune crowed with laughter, making his way to the refrigerator to poke around. “Did he now?”

Ears flaming, Ieyasu ducked behind the counter and scraped the scattered leaves from the tile. “He’s the only one who knows where the hell to find half of the reference books I needed for medical school and where to pirate them—”

“I swear Mitsuhide knows how to do that.”

Ieyasu didn't respond. Instead he dumped the leaves into the garbage. “Well, are you gonna stand out there and run your mouth, or should we get a move on and go to the grocery store while she’s still asleep? I figured we’d need some stuff before the others get here.”

Peering over the doorway with a bottle of orange juice, Masamune frowned. “Others?”

“Well, yeah, dumbass. You really didn't think we weren’t gonna get the other guys down here for a visit, did you?”

“On such short notice?”

Ieyasu froze, eyes wide and searching, desperately avoiding Masamune’s gaze. “I mean—can’t—are you the only person allowed to make spur of the moment choices?”

But Masamune turned his eyes slowly over to Mitsunari, finally understanding. “I’m pretty sure the Kitten and I weren’t the catalyst for inviting the others over…”

“I—no.” 

“Hey, Mitsun.” Masamune overrode the stuttering Ieyasu. “Was it your idea to come here?”

Mitsunari glanced up from his mug of tea. “No, Ieyasu kindly offered his house when he learned I was coming back.”

“Listen,” Ieyasu managed. “Listen, that disaster is our responsibility now. We can’t just pawn him off on the unsuspecting public.” 

“Right.” Grinning, Masamune swigged from the bottle of orange juice (ignoring Ieyasu’s annoyance) and shunted it back into the refrigerator. “Well, if the old crew is getting back together tonight, you’re damn right. Let’s get to the store.”

---

She was awake when they all came back, laden down with (“Entirely too fucking many,” Ieyasu complained) groceries. Her hair was slick from the shower, cheeks shiny with moisture and flushed from recent sleep. Masamune switched all his bags to one arm and pulled her in by the waist. 

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty.” He punctuated it with a kiss on her forehead. 

“Let me live.” Swatting him away, she grinned. “And you’ll never guess who I just let in—”

“Masamune!”

“God,” Ieyasu deadpanned, hoisting his bags onto the countertop. “Just letting strangers into my house.”

Mitsuhide chuckled, stirring some thick, soupy concoction in a glass. Masamune dreaded what it might be. “I’m strange?”

“Yes. Is this a trick question?”

“Good to see you again, brother.” Masamune fist bumped the other man. He hadn’t changed; if anything, age only accented the weirdest parts of him. It seemed like every year, Mitsuhide got lankier and more ethereal, white eyelashes too long to be human. 

“Ieyasu.” Nobunaga rounded the corner, holding aloft an opened container of protein powder. That explained the mysterious substance in Mitsuhide’s glass. “This stuff tastes like ass.”

Ieyasu rolled his eyes. “So you’ve tasted ass?”

Both Mitsuhide and Nobunaga cocked a mild brow. “Yes?”

“God damn, I didn't want to know—”

“It’s a popular request,” Mitsunari chimed in, shutting the garage door behind him. “It’s grown in popularity over the last—”

“What are we talking about?!” Hideyoshi emerged from the hall bathroom, wringing his wet hands and looking utterly alarmed. 

“No!” Ieyasu cupped his hands over his ears and fled to the other side of the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear any more from anyone about eating ass!”

Time was kind to them. Nobunaga had grown into the imperious smile he’d always worn, eyes flashing sharp over a long nose. Hideyoshi still possessed all of his world-weary charm, the faintest crease between his eyebrows. “New York is treating you guys alright, huh?” Masamune asked, planting himself on a barstool. 

“Of course,” Nobunaga laughed. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Dunno. Figured that Hideyoshi might have an aneurysm about the subway system by now.”

Apparently he’d hit a nerve. Hideyoshi strangled the air. “Why is the L train always down—?”

“Alright!” She swept in, clasping Hideyoshi’s hands in hers, grinning like the summer in full bloom. The effect was immediate; all the other men relaxed, lounging around the kitchen. How did she do that? Masamune knew she was talking (her mouth was moving), but the words floated away. Hideyoshi looked so soft in her grip. God, he hoped Hideyoshi didn't try anything with her. 

Where the hell did that thought come from?

“Earth to Masa.” Ieyasu waved a hand. “Did you hear anything?”

“Nah. Wasn’t listening. What’s up?”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “I literally asked if you wanted to make burgers for the bonfire tonight.”

“Bonfire?” Mitsuhide smiled. “That sounds excellent.”

“No lighting anything on fire like last time,” Hideyoshi warned, his shoulders tensing again. “You almost burned down the house with Nobunaga inside!”

“I assure you, that wasn’t my fault. Would that you believed me.”

“Well who the fuck else was watching the fire—”

“If you two are gonna fight, I’m just gonna…” Masamune rolled up his sleeves and plucked her from the floor, flinging her over his shoulders. “Borrow the kitten as my personal assistant tonight. How about that?”

“We’ll get the firewood together then.” Nobunaga waved him off. “And let you two to it.”

Hideyoshi hovered still. “Do you need any help? I’m not a master chef or anything, but I can be a pair of hands.”

Masamune almost took him up on it. But then she pulled back her hair—a long, languid movement that showed the curve of her back—and he shook his head. “Nah. We’ll manage. You go do things about, like, fire safety.”

That was the magic sentence. Those hazel eyes went large, and Hideyoshi nodded, purpose renewed. “You’re right. Let me know if you change your mind.”

Just like that, the two of them were alone again. She tittered and slid the bag of golden potatoes to him. “Need these peeled, chef?”

“Nah. Just washed. Throw on some tunes, would you?”

Her grin should have warned him, but he still wasn’t prepared for Neon Trees to echo in the kitchen. Masamune grinned and slapped the ground beef onto the cutting board. “What a fucking throwback. Is that Habits?”

“Yeah!” She dumped all of the potatoes in the sink. “Do you remember dancing to this in the car?”

Did he ever. They used to take Hideyoshi’s hand-me-down mom van (the only car that would fit all of them) out to the Oda Family property on the river, parking it in the field and lounging on blow up mattresses they’d pooled for at Target. Everything played on those busted car speakers: Neon Trees, old Panic! At the Disco, Chevelle, Lady Gaga, Jay-Z, Radiohead, Foo Fighters. Mitsuhide tricked Mitsunari and her into jumping in the water one night, and she was so mad and wet that Masamune stripped off all his clothes and put them on her, riding home in his boxers. 

“Yeah,” Masamune laughed. “I don’t think I ever got my pants back from you.”

“You got the pants back. I never gave you your hoodie back, though.”

“Shit, you’re right. Whatever happened to it?”

She hesitated over the sink, a funny, strangled smile on her mouth. “I turned it into a pillow.”

He froze. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Put it over a throw and tied the edges. I had it on my bed all the way through college.”

“Where is it now?”

She shrugged. After a long moment, she chuckled. “Would you judge me if I said I still had it?”

“No.” It wasn’t like him to stop, but he’d stopped, knife poised, a head of garlic ready for mincing and hands still. What did that mean? Savage pleasure surged in his stomach and he couldn’t place why. He’d always been protective of her. Right? Was that it? Just some misplaced neurons firing? “Not really, Kitten, no. I’m alright with that.” A beat. “It probably doesn’t fit me anymore anyway, you know? Might as well stay a pillow.”

Still she didn't look his way. Instead, she grabbed her phone and flipped on Caramelldansen, and he roared with laughter. “Hell!” 

As a unit, they flung down their utensils and danced. Adult bodies were different, but the chemistry was the same. He abandoned his station and flung her into his arms, the water still rushing down the drain over the potatoes. She squealed. 

“Could you guys not run up my water bill?” Ieyasu reemerged over the counter, knocking the faucet down. “If you’re gonna be distracted—”

“Sorry!” Her smile was infectious. “Let me just get back to those.”

His body cooled so quickly when she parted. Ieyasu hovered a moment longer, his green eyes boring into Masamune’s good one. 

“What?” He asked, cracking half the cloves open with a practiced hand. Ieyasu shook his head. 

“Nothing.”

[obssesionotomegirl]

I smell some shipping here.... ( still I like more the IeyasuxMitsunari )

[nuqelear]

おおおおおおおめでとうございます、いえやす∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[cielsmelancholy]

x

[ikesenhell]

Together, Alone

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 4. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Thanks to @missjudge-me for this commission!

---

The bonfire was everything Masamune wanted. 

Darkness fell early, a boon. Nobunaga and Mitsuhide built an expert fire, and by the time the burgers were rolled out, everyone was good and hungry. Thick patties with cheese (vegan cheese and an impossible burger for Ieyasu), roasted potato rounds, a side salad—silence reigned for around twenty seconds as they all tucked in. Masamune considered it a compliment. 

Mitsunari chatted about his time in Tanzania. His violet eyes and grey hair were stark against his now-bronzed skin, his t-shirt stretched rather than hanging loose off formerly bony arms. Every time he grinned, Ieyasu practically shoved his face into the burger. 

“Y’good there, sport?” Masamune checked him in the ribs. 

Ieyasu scowled. “Why?”

Mitsuhide, too, had clocked onto the new state of affairs. He carefully concealed his smile and rounded on Mitsunari. “Why, Mitsunari, my friend, you certainly have physically changed since your last time stateside.”

Mitsunari blinked. “Have I?”

“Yes. You’ve toned up. Stand, would you?”

“The food—” Ieyasu choked, struggling to change the discussion. “The food is—is really good—”

It almost worked; Mitsunari opened his mouth to agree, but Mitsuhide already had him by the arm, pulling him to his feet. “I want to see how many abs I can count now.”

“Why? I don’t have an abnormal number of them—”

In the glittering firelight, she shoved her face into a cider bottle, trying to mask her laughter. Masamune’s chest tightened. “How many crunches can you do now, Mitsunari?”

“I don’t know.” Puzzled, Mitsunari let Mitsuhide strip him of his polo. His newfound figure flickered in sharp edges in the firelight. Ieyasu gagged on a potato round. “I didn't spend a lot of time in the gym at Tanzania…”

“No?” Nobunaga folded his arms across his chest, staring pointedly at Ieyasu. “I’m sure you were kept busy with your charity work. Obviously, your enviable mind was the reason you were most valued.”

“Oh, definitely.” Even the Kitten joined in, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Going on two tours with the Peace Corps and getting an accelerated masters? Not a lot of people can do that.”

Mitsunari was practically scarlet. “Well, thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without all the support I received, especially from Ieyasu—”

“Go to hell,” Ieyasu muttered.

“—there you go, being too modest to accept the praise.” 

Masamune had never seen anyone chug their beer as fast as Ieyasu managed in the moment. “If we’re gonna try and troll someone—which isn’t working, by the way—”

Mitsunari blinked. “Who are we trolling?”

“—then why haven’t we given Masamune hell yet?”

“Me?” Masamune laughed. “I’m shameless. Besides, I don’t even know what you’d get me for.”

Hideyoshi doubled with laughter. Four pairs of eyes blinked in his direction. 

“Anyway.” Ieyasu cut in. “If anyone wants to just help me get the dirty things inside before we attract ants, that would be great.”

Mitsunari volunteered with a smile. Ieyasu scowled, but stacked up his arms with dishes anyway, the two of them disappearing into the house. Nobunaga and Mitsuhide dipped their heads together to confer on some unknowable secret, Hideyoshi stoking the fire protectively. Left to their own devices, Masamune wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“Cold?”

“A little.” 

Tugging her tighter to him, he rubbed her arm slowly. “Do you need a jacket or something?”

“No.” Quietly, she curled her knees under his, resting her cheek onto his shoulder. His stomach blazed protectively. “I’m good right here.”

“Nothing like a fire in the fall, huh?”

“No, nothing.” She sighed. “I love the clear smell of the air and the burning logs. It’s really nostalgic.”

That it was. But as much as he’d been thinking about the past, as he carded a hand through her hair, he couldn’t help but ask. “Where do you think you’ll be in five years?”

Her soft smile was everything. “Why do you ask? You’re not much of a person to make future plans.”

Masamune chuckled. “No, I’m not. I prefer living in the moment. I was just curious. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the past since my dad died, so I’m trying to get back into the now and the future.”

It sounded like nonsense out of his mouth, but she smiled, so he assumed something made sense. At last, she shrugged. “There are a whole lot of things in flux right now. I suppose I just want the next five years to end with me being happy.”

Good answer. Scrunching her hair affectionately, he answered, “That’s all I’d ever want for you, Kit Kat.”

He felt her smile in the crook of his shoulder. Resting back on his elbow, he stilled himself, and before long, she was sound asleep, breath fanning on his skin. In the quietest part of his heart, he prayed for her good dreams. 

---

Mitsunari offered the guest bedroom that he’d been staying in, so Masamune tucked her in himself. She roused only a little when he brought her inside. 

“Where are we going?” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“To bed, Kitten,” Masamune murmured. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Even after all of these years, she trusted him, curling tight against his chest. He turned back the covers and peeled off her shoes and socks, arranging them under the bed. Lights of a passing car shimmered through the blinds and scanned her sleeping face. 

Beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Masamune gently slid her cold toes under the covers and wrapped her tight in a blanket. “Goodnight, Kitten.”

Ieyasu was the only one still awake, subtly stirring a mug of tea. Masamune lingered in the shadows of the hallway. The blonde kept glancing over the bar into the living room, his eyes searching over the others sleeping forms, lingering over Mitsunari’s fluffy bedhead, mouth softening. 

Masamune finally broke his silence. “Hey. Got a second mug?”

Those green eyes blew wide, but Ieyasu kept his composure and fished one out of the cabinet. “Not a lot left.”

“That’s fine. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No. I’ll fix more.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Ieyasu ignored him and fished out the tea tin. Masamune hoisted himself onto the counter. “So when are you gonna talk to him?”

“Who?”

“Mitsunari.”

No doubt it was only the late hour that kept Ieyasu from his usual snark and defense. Instead the blonde sighed raggedly, pouring hot water over the strainer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yasu, buddy. You haven’t stopped giving him heart eyes since he got here. Tanzania was good to him, clearly.”

Ieyasu shrugged. 

“You gotta say something eventually.”

“I really don’t.”

Someone in the living room shifted. They both fell silent before Masamune continued. “I mean, theoretically, yeah, you don’t have to. But I think it would go better than you think. You’re obviously head over heels for the dude.”

The faint clink of a spoon echoed in the kitchen. Without ceremony, Ieyasu placed the dark blue mug in Masamune’s hand. “Made like you like it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Ieyasu tucked himself into the corner of the fridge and the cabinets, cupping his own cup tight in his palms. In the shadowy under-cabinet light, his dark circles were almost picturesque. “Are you gonna ride my dick about this?”

“I don’t think so.” Masamune paused. “I’m not trying to, like, annoy you. I just think it would go really well. He’s had a thing for you for ages.”

Those green eyes flared with hope and indignation. “Come on.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re not.”

“It’s been obvious to everyone but you for years.”

Ieyasu ground his teeth. “Why does this matter so much to you anyway? Trying to get me to do what you won’t do?”

A beat. Masamune hesitated once more, mug halfway to his mouth and mind reeling. What the hell was he talking about? “I don’t have a crush on Mitsunari—”

“No, you idiot.” He thumbed into the hallway. “Her.”

For the briefest of moments, time stilled. A crush? He didn't have a crush. Did he? Sure, he thought she was beautiful, and funny, and he treasured her, but there were lots of people that met those criteria. Right? He treasured Ieyasu and didn't want to kiss him, and kissed a lot of people that he hadn’t treasured, but still respected. She just happened to fall into both of those categories. That didn't mean he had a crush. 

Did he?

“You haven’t even realized.” Ieyasu’s eyebrows were in his hairline. 

He’d never grown tired of her, not once. He’d never tried too hard to make her more than what they were—why? All those years of closeness, the easy intimacy, the reckless way he’d always cared for her. Was that just friendship? Of course he could envision himself in bed with her (who couldn’t?), and he valued her thoughts, and he wanted the best for her, and—

When they were in high school, he’d asked her to junior prom by flinging a balled up piece of paper at her head across Government class. She went, of course—they wore matching gold and blue—but the next year Hideyoshi asked her with a bouquet of roses he’d grown from his bushes. Masamune never knew what jealousy felt like before that. He’d swallowed it down with the consolation that it was just as friends, that it was technically like they were going together anyway, right? 

And then he’d been defensive when Hideyoshi held her hand in the hall today...

“Holy shit.” Masamune concluded. 

“You didn't know?!” Ieyasu barely restrained his volume. 

“I didn't think about it too hard,” he admitted. He reeled, searching his feelings. He’d never been too invested in finding a long term partner before, let alone concerned in finding one in general. He could always find someone to be with if he was lonely. But her? So much more of him was invested. He could feel her name all the way down through his toes. Hells, the only thing that mattered to him was her happiness. “I—fuck, man. I never really sat down and had this conversation with myself.”

“We all thought you knew.” Disbelieving awe reflected in Ieyasu’s face. “That’s why Hideyoshi laughed tonight. We thought you’d been carrying this torch for ages and at least knew about it. You’re more oblivious than Mitsunari.”

Masamune chose to sip his tea instead of answering. Her face played out a thousand different ways in his mind’s eye. They were going to Virginia for a job interview, and he had to stay home with his mom, go back to his old life and his old job eventually. That was hundreds of miles away. And there was no way she felt the same about him. As much as things stayed the same, no doubt she believed he’d changed somewhat. 

And yet…

“Tell you what.” Masamune drained his mug and placed it in the sink. “I’ll think about it. And you should, too. Deal?”

Ieyasu rolled his eyes. “Not like you’ll give me a choice.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Good night, ‘Yasu.”

Well into the small hours of the morning, Masamune lay awake in his makeshift bed on the living room floor, surrounded by the soft breath and snores of his friends and remembering how the weight of her head felt on his shoulder. 

[nuqelear]

FULL DAMAGE ATTACK!

[cielsmelancholy]

x

[cielsmelancholy]

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