Masayoshi caught him by accident once, looking- the light was dim in the apartment, cast almost entirely from the television on its stand. For some reason Gotou thought that was enough, that its reflection on their skin wouldn't betray him when his attention shifted from the episode to the(more) person sitting at the table opposite him.
Gotou didn't really know why just looking at Masayoshi was so satisfying. Maybe that was part of his allure as a model - but there was something about the curve of his neck; skin disappearing into the soft folds of his hooded sweatshirt, the brush of his tawny hair as he shifted, the light in his eyes, attentive to the screen, drinking in every detail of the episode- something there was captivating beyond his capacity for processing it. Gotou's eyes flitted up to Masayoshi's face and he realized that Masayoshi had cocked his head back, eyes away from the screen, and was watching Gotou watch him, a hint of amusement on his mouth.
Gotou turned his head away quickly, blush rising faster than he could bluster a response, so instead he took a long pull from his beer can and stared at the television screen instead. Masayoshi didn't say anything, and when Gotou ventured a peek Masayoshi was staring at the television again, enthralled- but he was still wearing that same soft smile that made Gotou's stomach churn.
"Gotou-san?" Masayoshi asked, without turning his attention away from his show. "Can I sit next to you?"
Gotou wet his dry lips, felt his stomach flip-flop. "Sure," he said, and was amazed that Masayoshi didn't wait for the commercial break this time to drag his attention away from the screen, to settle in beside Gotou and tentatively lay his head on Gotou's shoulder.