Gotou rinsed his plate and listened as the television droned on in the main room. Masayoshi insisted on helping clean up but Gotou forestalled his assistance by clearing the dishes expertly and ordering him to stay put and enjoy his show. It hadn't helped, Masayoshi had followed him to(more) the threshold but after lingering in the doorway practicing his kicked puppy impression, finally returned to his seat.
Masayoshi felt weird, and complained of it during dinner, itchy and restless and too-warm despite the air conditioning. He didn't seem to know why he felt that way and Gotou stared down at the dishes in the sink but didn't see them, scrubbing mindlessly.
Masayoshi was going into a rut, and it was twisting Gotou up inside.
It shouldn't. Gotou exhaled, kept his grip tight on the dish and tried to focus on what he was doing. He was regular. He was on suppressants. Masayoshi had never once asked, nor had they had any discussion about these things because why would they? They were just friends. It wasn't weird for an omega to be friends with an alpha.
It wasn't weird for them never to have discussed it.
"Gotou-san?" Masayoshi at the door again, face flushed and expression concerned. Gotou glanced at him and back to the dishes, but kept an eye on the door. "I don't feel so good, I don't know if I'll make it home tonight. Do you care if I stay over?"
Every word felt dangerous, but... this was Masayoshi. He /trusted/ Masayoshi.
"Yeah, it's fine," he said, setting the last of the cutlery in the drying rack. "You know where the futon is."
The look Masayoshi gave him he didn't know how to take, but his tone was grateful. "Thanks, Gotou-san!"