Ieyasu and Masamune had an understanding.

They were best friends. They had known each other since Ieyasu was six years old and Masamune five - they had been neighbors and naturally became close through proximity. Having been friends for such a long time, the boundaries of their relationship were almost obsolete. They weren't strangers to falling asleep in the same bed on a sleepover or holding hands when it was cold. They had even kissed a couple of times, mostly because they were young and wanted to know what it was like. None of this was embarrassing, or even remotely romantic. Awkwardness between them had completely evaporated over the years.

Given these factors, it wasn't a surprise when Masamune began to flirt with Ieyasu.

He was a growing boy - in fact, a teenager now - and his interests were changing to match. He began to look at his classmates through a new lens and romance was on his mind. Whenever he thought of a new pickup line, he always tested it out first on Ieyasu before deciding whether or not he could use it on someone "in real life." Ieyasu, amused, always played along.

Soon, the habit simply developed into the speech patterns they used with each other.

When Masamune was ready to walk home from school, he waltzed into the classroom and blatantly interrupted Ieyasu's conversation with another student by throwing an arm around his friend's shoulder and said in his best impersonation of a sultry tone, "Hey sweetheart, why don't we take this back to my place?"

Ieyasu laughed and replied, "At least buy me dinner first." They continued the discussion as if that interjection had not even occurred.

When Ieyasu arrived at Masamune's house wearing brand new clothes, Masamune whistled and said, "Nice outfit but you know where it would look even better? On my floor."

Ieyasu just smirked and said, "Ready when you are." They both grinned at each other and proceeded to play video games for the next few hours.

Sometimes they didn't even need words. They would hear something suggestive and Masamune would give Ieyasu a purposefully raised eyebrow and run his tongue across his quirked lips. Ieyasu would respond with lowered eyelids and a wink. They would end the exchange with barely concealed snickers and move on.

But then Yukimura entered the picture.

Yukimura didn't have the same understanding with Masamune as Ieyasu did. He took everything truthfully and when Masamune jokingly offered to escort him to bed, he turned bright red and stammered out that he "would be honored," but was unsure if he was ready. Masamune realized that Yukimura thought he was serious and laughed it off to clear up the misunderstanding, but Ieyasu noticed the slight blush dusting Masamune's cheeks. Masamune never blushed when he flirted with Ieyasu.

Ieyasu didn't miss the gap that began to form between them after that. When they had crashed on the couch playing an intense round of Mario Kart, Masamune didn't sit crushed up against Ieyasu like he used to. He always made sure there was a respectable distance between them. During the winter when Masamune forgot his gloves, he never took hold of Ieyasu's achingly free hand. He just shoved his own in his pockets and kept walking. And they never, ever kissed anymore.

The jokes continued. But more and more, Ieyasu felt that Masamune was saying them out of routine rather than having any real meaning. That was how they talked to each other. With Yukimura, however, Masamune was more genuine, his suggestions to "take him out to dinner" or "go back to his place" true proposals. And Yukimura responded just as earnestly.

Maybe Ieyasu was being sentimental. Maybe he was a little possessive over his first real friend. But there was something that bugged him about Masamune's relationship with Yukimura, something ugly unfurling itself deep in his stomach. He smiled and ignored it but it was still there, dark and threatening. And when Masamune smiled, threaded an arm around his neck and said, "I love you, man," Ieyasu knew he meant it.

But "love" didn't always mean the same thing.