[fic] Honest enough for the both of them
Dec. 29th, 2009 09:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Rating: PG-13 for language, BL, and Gokudera being politically incorrect (seriously, when I hear people in real life say some of the thing he says here, it makes me want to punch babies)
Prompt:
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Word count: 1,420
Disclaimer: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is owned by Amano Akira.
Summary: Yamamoto is honest enough for the both of them.
It was nine-fucking-thirty in the goddamn morning and some asshole was knocking on his door. Falling off the couch in the process of trying to get up, Gokudera reached for some clothes to pull on before going to bitch out his visitor. He’d already given the landlord his rent for the month, so it was probably a neighbor asking for a favor.
“This had better be important,” he growled before noticing who the boy in the hallway was.
“Yo, Gokudera. Whatcha doing?” Yamamoto’s face looked like a puppy that had found a new bone. His smile was so bright, it hurt Gokudera’s eyes to look at it. A few seconds past before Gokudera was able to process the fact that Yamamoto Takeshi was indeed standing in his doorway on a Saturday morning.
“How the hell did you find out where I live?”
“Eh, I was going home from practice a few days ago and saw you walking near the park, so I followed you here. Are you gonna let me in?” Too astonished that someone had found out where he lived, Gokudera put up no resistance as Yamamoto strolled past him into the apartment. The taller boy looked expectantly at his friend.
“So, do I get a tour?” Gokudera stared at him before turning to look around his one room apartment. The kitchen with its stove, sink and set of chipped, yellow laminate cabinets lined the right-hand wall, while a dresser that had been in a fight with some paint thinner stood on the left side of the room next to the bathroom door. Under the grimy window directly across from the front door sat a ratty couch that had seen its heyday in the sixties, and in the space leftover lay a low table with a small CD player and a tiny TV sporting rabbit ears on it. The closets in his father’s mansion had been bigger than this. He returned his gaze to his ‘guest.’
“No,” he deadpanned and tried push the idiot out of the room. When Yamamoto refused to budge, he sighed and motioned towards the couch, not caring that his bedding was still strewn across it. The black haired boy watched him intently as Gokudera switched on the CD player and started pouring water into some glasses. It wasn’t that he was trying to be a good host or anything—it was just that his mouth was dry and he might as well save time and energy by filling two cups at once, instead of waiting for the retard to ask for something to drink later. He handed Yamamoto one of the glasses and sat next to him, picking at his clothes and ignoring his guest. The other boy shifted self-consciously before trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Hmm, what kind of music is this? It sounds kinda weird, haha!”
“It’s Shostakovich, you dumbass,” spat Gokudera. “He’s a genius, unlike some people in this room.”
“Well, it still sounds funny.”
“If you’re just here to insult my music, then leave.”
“Ah, sorry, sorry!”
“What are you doing here, anyways?” Yamamoto stared thoughtfully at Gokudera before flashing another blinding smile.
“I just wanted to see you.” Gokudera choked on his drink.
“W-What the hell is that supposed to mean?! Don’t just say stuff like that!” he sputtered.
“But it’s true; I really like being with you.”
“Well, that’s the kind of stuff you say to your girlfriend, not someone in your mafia family!”
Yamamoto looked genuinely confused. “Huh? That’s silly, I don’t have a girlfriend!”
“That’s not the point, you idiot. It’s embarrassing when a guy says that kind of stuff to another guy.”
“Oh, is this another rule to the mafia game?”
“No, it’s just commonsense! And don’t even get me started on the whole mafia ‘game’ business.”
“Haha, well I still don’t get it. I mean, that’s just how I feel.”
“Gaahh—do I have to spell it out for you? When you say ‘I wanna be with you’ it makes it sound like you’re a homo!”
“Oh.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, Yamamoto staring at his feet and Gokudera staring at Yamamoto.
“But it’s still the truth,” the darker boy said softly. “I really do like being with you. I mean, I think about you all the time—during school, during baseball practice, at home…I even dream about you, haha!” He suddenly blushed. Gokudera’s eyes widened.
“That’s disgusting! Who said you were allowed to dream about me, you pervert!?”
“Sorry, Gokudera! I can’t help it! But you’re always really cool and manly in my dreams, if that helps any?” Yamamoto sighed and scratched his head. “But I don’t care if we don’t do stuff like in the dreams, I just want to be close to you.” Gokudera suddenly lunged at him, pushing the other boy onto the couch before he could react.
“What kind of goddamn dreams have you been having?!” he seethed. Yamamoto was frozen in his grasp, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words.
“I, uh, naa…”
“Tell me before I blow your head off!”
“We, uh, fool around, and stuff. Naked. And one time I, um—well, I dreamed about us making lov—haha, calm down Gokudera!”
“God, you don’t just sound like a fucking homo, you are a fucking homo! You’d better not even think about sullying the Tenth’s name—“
“What does Tsuna have to do with this? But, I mean, I’ve tried to stop, I really have, but I might be in love with you...” he trailed off at the sight of Gokudera’s blank expression. Although the storm guardian didn’t loosen his grip on the other boy, he at least didn’t try to throw him across the room. Once the idea that Yamamoto might legitimately be gay—and have a crush on him, for that matter—was processed by his brain, he settle down for some serious contemplation.
Gokudera had never given his sexuality any serious thought—there had just never been any urgent need. Both girls and guys were annoying—except for the Tenth, of course, but that was a different matter. The only openly homosexual person he’d ever met was Lussuria, and the impression that had been made was not the best. Gay people were supposed to prance around flamboyantly and hit on every man in sight. They were not supposed to play baseball, make sushi and ask you for help with math homework. Yamamoto was just too normal to be gay.
“Umm, Gokudera? Are you okay?” Yamamoto asked quietly, interrupting Gokudera’s thoughts.
“You’re not really gay. This is just some stupid joke you’re trying to play on me.” A smirk snuck across the green eyed boy’s face. “You’re just trying to throw me off guard so you can swoop in and take over the right-hand man position.” He was pleased with himself for finally understanding the situation and was ready to maintain the status quo of their relationship. No way was Yamamoto going to pull the wool over his eyes with this stunt.
“Right-hand man?” Apparently Yamamoto still didn’t understand the situation.
“Don’t play stupid with me. There’s no way in hell you’re actually a fag.” Yamamoto flinched visibly, pulling a frown. When he spoke after a moment, he tried to avoid Gokudera’s face by focusing on one of the hands that still gripped his bicep.
“Umm, you really shouldn’t say stuff like that, Gokudera. You could hurt someone’s feelings.”
“Like hell I care about your feelings you idi—“
Leaning up suddenly, Yamamoto captured the other boy’s lips with his own, effectively silencing the next insult. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough time for him to notice Gokudera’s lack of reaction. When he pulled away, the green eyes were wide with panic. After a long moment of patient waiting, the black haired boy finally received a response.
“Shit.” And then, “You d—don’t mean anything to me.” It would have been more effective if Gokudera hadn’t stammered, and if he had let go of Yamamoto’s arm. His grip, however, had tightened.
Yamamoto smiled gently. “You mean something to me.” There was a moment when he thought Gokudera might lash out, but then the bomber relaxed and slid his arms around the dark haired boy’s back. Burying his face in the warm neck in front of him, he mumbled the words again, you don’t mean anything to me, and Yamamoto let him deny his feelings for the rest of the day.
A/N: Last minute prompt is last minute!
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Date: 2009-12-29 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 08:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-12-29 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-29 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 04:26 am (UTC)really sweet...
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Date: 2010-01-01 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 12:03 pm (UTC)All of your fics are IC enough, but this one is the most so.
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Date: 2010-01-01 10:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-30 08:07 pm (UTC)xD
and i was very pissed with gokudera for hurting yamamoto feelings at the begginning but its very cuteeeeeeeeee
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Date: 2010-01-01 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-31 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-01 11:01 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-01-01 10:23 pm (UTC)I think this might be my favourite from you so far *A*
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Date: 2010-01-01 11:04 pm (UTC)