[fic] Overtime
Mar. 29th, 2010 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
melissa_42Title: Overtime
Pairing: Gokudera/Yamamoto (in no particular order)
Rating: PG-13 for language and mentions of sex
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
khrfest V-72. Gokudera/Yamamoto – shoulder massage; “ahaha, you’re making funny noises.”
Word Count: 1,238
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is owned by Amano Akira.
Summary: Gokudera doesn’t understand the meaning of “Take the day off.”
They were in territorial negotiations with the Gattino family, and Gokudera’s head was ready to explode. He had spent the entire past week drawing up detailed maps and plans, only to have Hibari shoot them down because the cloud guardian had grown partial to the little village of Cannizzara, which happened to sit smack-dab in the middle of the Gattino’s proposed new territory. The other Sicilian famiglia probably wouldn’t appreciate a Vongola underboss doing as he pleased on their own turf, so Gokudera had been forced to scrap the plan. After much hair pulling and screaming, Tsuna made an executive decision to hand the job over to Ryohei and Lambo while his consigliere took a few days off to cool down for a bit.
Unbeknownst to his boss, however, the storm guardian had snuck some blueprint copies home with him, which resulted in him still drinking coffee by the liter and chewing his erasers down to nubs—but in his condo rather than his office. When someone buzzed at his front door, he cursed bloody murder at the hole he punctured through the Modica business directory he’d just been scribbling on. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he got up to answer his visitor.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Haha, hi Hayato! Can I come in?”
Gokudera sighed. “Did the Tenth ask you to check on me?”
“No, haha,” Yamamoto laughed again, the intercom distorting his voice, “I just decided to drop by to see how you’re doing. So, are you going to let me in?” Gokudera glanced at the papers scattered over his kitchen table. Yamamoto would definitely tell their boss that Gokudera was still working on the project, but the Tenth was going to find out sooner or later, anyway. Grumbling, he buzzed the swordsman in and ushered him inside the apartment with a scowl once he had come up the stairwell. Yamamoto took one look at the mess in the kitchen and laughed.
“We figured you were working on stuff here. Sempai’s been looking for the Ragusa police records.”
“Shit, I forgot to make a photocopy,” Gokudera muttered. “Well, pull up a seat and stay out of my way.”
“No, no, no.” Yamamoto shook his head, steering his friend into the living room. “You’re actually going to relax while I’m here. I brought a movie.” He pulled a DVD case out of his messenger bag with a grin.
Gokudera snorted. “Seven Samurai? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s good!”
“I’ve seen it five times with you.”
Yamamoto chuckled. “It’s a classic.” Gokudera groaned, but made no move to stop him when he slipped the disc into the DVD player. He had grown accustomed to the swordsman’s presence. The stupid, smiling baseball idiot had slowly wormed his way into his life until Gokudera was forced to accept that he wasn’t going away anytime soon. It should have freaked him out how easily their wrestling match on the hotel bed had devolved into sex on the hotel bed that one time they got drunk after the botched mission in Messina. Instead it had simply seemed like the next logical step in their relationship. Within the past ten months, Yamamoto had been able to infiltrate more of his defenses than in the past six years; all that was left was for them to put a name to their feelings, but there was no rush for such formalities.
They both sat down on the couch and pretended to focus on the opening scene of the movie. Yamamoto kept sneaking looks at Gokudera, while the overworked man kept sneaking looks at the pile in the kitchen. It was obvious the he was anxious about the whole Gattino-Vongola affair; the rain guardian could see it in the twitch of his fingers and the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“Do you want a massage?”
Gokudera whipped around to stare at Yamamoto. Just a year ago he would have blown up at the offer, but today he simply asked, “No funny business?”
“Not unless you want some, haha!”
“Oh, just shut up and get on with it,” he grumbled, scooting closer to the dark haired man, who grinned and rested his hands on Gokudera’s shoulders. Yamamoto slowly kneaded the tension out of the stiff muscles. As he worked his way down the wiry back, Gokudera leaned forward to give him more room.
“Do you want to lie down?” Gokudera grunted in response and stretched out on the couch. Yamamoto perched himself on the back of his partner’s thighs and focused his attention on a knot in the Italian’s mid back.
“It’s nice to take a day off once in a while, hmm?” Yamamoto murmured over the clash of swords on the television.
“Uggh,,” Gokudera groaned. “I still have a lot to get done. The Tenth needs those maps soon.”
“C’mon, Hayato! Don’t think about work now; just try to relax.”
“What do you mean try to rela—!” He was cut off by a sudden moan that ripped out of his throat. Yamamoto was squeezing his neck and shoulders again.
“Feels good?”
Gokudera moaned again, this time something that sounded suspiciously like Takeshi.
“Haha, you’re making funny noises!” Yamamoto’s hands wandered down to massage the other man’s butt.
Gokudera squirmed under the attention. “H-hey! You said no f-funny business—mmph!”
Extending himself over the other body, Yamamoto nosed into the pale hair. “Well, you seem to be enjoying it,” he whispered.
They ended up making love (don’t call it that, idiot!) on the couch before moving to the bedroom for another round. Lying under the covers together afterwards, Yamamoto slowly stroked Gokudera’s back.
“We left the movie on,” the smaller man murmured. “You’d better not forget it here.”
“Mmm, haha. We’ll have to watch it another time.” Gokudera rolled his eyes. They lay in silence a while longer, just listening to each other breathing.
Yamamoto finally broke the spell again. “So…can I take the territory data when I leave?”
Gokudera sat up, scattering the covers. “Is that why you came here? You were just trying to get me complacent enough to let you get in the way of my duties?” He lurched out of bed and pulled on a pair of underwear from the dresser before stalking into the kitchen with Yamamoto stumbling after him.
“No, wait Hayato, I just wanted to see you!”
The storm guardian turned to argue but instead got an eyeful of the swordsman in all his naked glory. “For godsakes, put some clothes on, you perv!”
Yamamoto looked down but made no move to cover himself. “Haha, my clothes are over by the couch.” He struck a pose. “Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Barely dodging the well aimed bag of pasta, he snuck behind the irate man and began massaging his shoulders again. “If you’re not going to let me take the documents, can I at least stay over?”
“Don’t you have to go into the office tomorrow?”
“I think I can consider it part of my job to make sure the right hand man doesn’t work himself to death. Can’t you just leave it up to Ryohei and Lambo?” Gokudera grumbled but didn’t protest when Yamamoto laid a kiss on his throat.
And the maps? The Gattino decided they would rather keep the original boundaries than be forced to deal with Hibari getting confused over what did and did not belong to the Vongola.
Pairing: Gokudera/Yamamoto (in no particular order)
Rating: PG-13 for language and mentions of sex
Prompt:
khrfest V-72. Gokudera/Yamamoto – shoulder massage; “ahaha, you’re making funny noises.”Word Count: 1,238
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is owned by Amano Akira.
Summary: Gokudera doesn’t understand the meaning of “Take the day off.”
They were in territorial negotiations with the Gattino family, and Gokudera’s head was ready to explode. He had spent the entire past week drawing up detailed maps and plans, only to have Hibari shoot them down because the cloud guardian had grown partial to the little village of Cannizzara, which happened to sit smack-dab in the middle of the Gattino’s proposed new territory. The other Sicilian famiglia probably wouldn’t appreciate a Vongola underboss doing as he pleased on their own turf, so Gokudera had been forced to scrap the plan. After much hair pulling and screaming, Tsuna made an executive decision to hand the job over to Ryohei and Lambo while his consigliere took a few days off to cool down for a bit.
Unbeknownst to his boss, however, the storm guardian had snuck some blueprint copies home with him, which resulted in him still drinking coffee by the liter and chewing his erasers down to nubs—but in his condo rather than his office. When someone buzzed at his front door, he cursed bloody murder at the hole he punctured through the Modica business directory he’d just been scribbling on. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he got up to answer his visitor.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Haha, hi Hayato! Can I come in?”
Gokudera sighed. “Did the Tenth ask you to check on me?”
“No, haha,” Yamamoto laughed again, the intercom distorting his voice, “I just decided to drop by to see how you’re doing. So, are you going to let me in?” Gokudera glanced at the papers scattered over his kitchen table. Yamamoto would definitely tell their boss that Gokudera was still working on the project, but the Tenth was going to find out sooner or later, anyway. Grumbling, he buzzed the swordsman in and ushered him inside the apartment with a scowl once he had come up the stairwell. Yamamoto took one look at the mess in the kitchen and laughed.
“We figured you were working on stuff here. Sempai’s been looking for the Ragusa police records.”
“Shit, I forgot to make a photocopy,” Gokudera muttered. “Well, pull up a seat and stay out of my way.”
“No, no, no.” Yamamoto shook his head, steering his friend into the living room. “You’re actually going to relax while I’m here. I brought a movie.” He pulled a DVD case out of his messenger bag with a grin.
Gokudera snorted. “Seven Samurai? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s good!”
“I’ve seen it five times with you.”
Yamamoto chuckled. “It’s a classic.” Gokudera groaned, but made no move to stop him when he slipped the disc into the DVD player. He had grown accustomed to the swordsman’s presence. The stupid, smiling baseball idiot had slowly wormed his way into his life until Gokudera was forced to accept that he wasn’t going away anytime soon. It should have freaked him out how easily their wrestling match on the hotel bed had devolved into sex on the hotel bed that one time they got drunk after the botched mission in Messina. Instead it had simply seemed like the next logical step in their relationship. Within the past ten months, Yamamoto had been able to infiltrate more of his defenses than in the past six years; all that was left was for them to put a name to their feelings, but there was no rush for such formalities.
They both sat down on the couch and pretended to focus on the opening scene of the movie. Yamamoto kept sneaking looks at Gokudera, while the overworked man kept sneaking looks at the pile in the kitchen. It was obvious the he was anxious about the whole Gattino-Vongola affair; the rain guardian could see it in the twitch of his fingers and the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“Do you want a massage?”
Gokudera whipped around to stare at Yamamoto. Just a year ago he would have blown up at the offer, but today he simply asked, “No funny business?”
“Not unless you want some, haha!”
“Oh, just shut up and get on with it,” he grumbled, scooting closer to the dark haired man, who grinned and rested his hands on Gokudera’s shoulders. Yamamoto slowly kneaded the tension out of the stiff muscles. As he worked his way down the wiry back, Gokudera leaned forward to give him more room.
“Do you want to lie down?” Gokudera grunted in response and stretched out on the couch. Yamamoto perched himself on the back of his partner’s thighs and focused his attention on a knot in the Italian’s mid back.
“It’s nice to take a day off once in a while, hmm?” Yamamoto murmured over the clash of swords on the television.
“Uggh,,” Gokudera groaned. “I still have a lot to get done. The Tenth needs those maps soon.”
“C’mon, Hayato! Don’t think about work now; just try to relax.”
“What do you mean try to rela—!” He was cut off by a sudden moan that ripped out of his throat. Yamamoto was squeezing his neck and shoulders again.
“Feels good?”
Gokudera moaned again, this time something that sounded suspiciously like Takeshi.
“Haha, you’re making funny noises!” Yamamoto’s hands wandered down to massage the other man’s butt.
Gokudera squirmed under the attention. “H-hey! You said no f-funny business—mmph!”
Extending himself over the other body, Yamamoto nosed into the pale hair. “Well, you seem to be enjoying it,” he whispered.
They ended up making love (don’t call it that, idiot!) on the couch before moving to the bedroom for another round. Lying under the covers together afterwards, Yamamoto slowly stroked Gokudera’s back.
“We left the movie on,” the smaller man murmured. “You’d better not forget it here.”
“Mmm, haha. We’ll have to watch it another time.” Gokudera rolled his eyes. They lay in silence a while longer, just listening to each other breathing.
Yamamoto finally broke the spell again. “So…can I take the territory data when I leave?”
Gokudera sat up, scattering the covers. “Is that why you came here? You were just trying to get me complacent enough to let you get in the way of my duties?” He lurched out of bed and pulled on a pair of underwear from the dresser before stalking into the kitchen with Yamamoto stumbling after him.
“No, wait Hayato, I just wanted to see you!”
The storm guardian turned to argue but instead got an eyeful of the swordsman in all his naked glory. “For godsakes, put some clothes on, you perv!”
Yamamoto looked down but made no move to cover himself. “Haha, my clothes are over by the couch.” He struck a pose. “Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Barely dodging the well aimed bag of pasta, he snuck behind the irate man and began massaging his shoulders again. “If you’re not going to let me take the documents, can I at least stay over?”
“Don’t you have to go into the office tomorrow?”
“I think I can consider it part of my job to make sure the right hand man doesn’t work himself to death. Can’t you just leave it up to Ryohei and Lambo?” Gokudera grumbled but didn’t protest when Yamamoto laid a kiss on his throat.
And the maps? The Gattino decided they would rather keep the original boundaries than be forced to deal with Hibari getting confused over what did and did not belong to the Vongola.
