Prompt #42 - The Answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything! (or just 'On the Roof'.)
The afternoon was cold and windy, with a hint of a storm threatening on the horizon. A perfect setting. Dramatic irony, even. Scoffing at the idea, Gokudera leaned against the fence on the roof of Namimori Junior High, the carefully fixed fence in the same place where Yamamoto had so long ago in an innocent age where baseball really was that important threatened to jump off.
“What an idiot,” he muttered, not sure if he was speaking of Yamamoto or himself. He was an idiot, though - that reckless, always-grinning, stupidly confident dumbass of a Guardian. Maybe almost as much of an idiot as Gokudera was for falling in love with him.
Angrily, he tossed his cigarette over the side of the fence and watched it fall like Yamamoto would’ve if Tsuna hadn’t been there and bounce against the pavement far below. Why couldn’t things just be simple anymore? Why had it changed from Tsuna being the only one who mattered and Yamamoto just being that idiot who sometimes got in his way and every now and then did something useful, to those warm brown eyes sparking a thorougly different desire in him than the usual one to just punch the baseball freak?
No, things were far from simple now, and no matter how much Gokudera tried to deny it, run from it, cover it with a façade of curses and stoic unkindness, the truth remained that yes, he loved that stupid Yamamoto. And yes, if he didn’t do something about it soon... well, he might not have the chance again.
He’d hoped at first that it was just his own paranoia and the idiot’s too-friendly nature working together against him, but there was no question that the guy from the baseball team, previously only a casual friend of Yamamoto’s, was now walking home with him nearly all the time. They did homework together, he’d been over for supper at Yamamoto’s place a couple of times when the Storm Guardian had dropped by - on family business, of course. Hell, the baseball idiot ate lunch with him half the time now instead of with his goddamn family!
Gokudera’s competitive nature was naturally not fond of this. He’d tried his best to quell it, having no intention of ever claiming Yamamoto as his, but the more time he spent with the dark-haired boy lately, the more his reason seemed to be fighting a losing battle. It was becoming so damn difficult to just keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself when all he wanted to do was pin that jerk against the nearest wall and kiss him breathless, explore that lean body with his fingertips and-
Fuck! He had not come up here to indulge in sexual fantasies. Fuck that. He was supposed to be deciding what to do about this ridiculous bad-chick-flick-gone-even-more-wrong situation.
But thinking about it up here yielded results no different from thinking about it in bed in the middle of the night when he couldn’t damn well fall asleep. There were two options: do nothing, or do something. Lose Yamamoto, or claim him. Or maybe it was lose Yamamoto either way, and wasn’t that what was stopping him, really? Hiding behind his own supposed walls, not wanting to let people close, that was just an excuse to avoid losing them. Stupid damn coward.
So lost in these thoughts that he didn’t even hear the door to the roof open, the sudden voice that followed shortly thereafter nearly sent him tumbling off the roof.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a fucking Pogo stick! Are you trying to kill me, dickwad?”
Yamamoto looked sheepish. “Sorry, Gokudera, I thought you’d have heard me come up. Are you okay? You look really pale.”
“No shit, Sherlock, I just about died,” Gokudera growled, backing away from the edge of the roof and pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Fuck,” he added, for no apparent reason, as he lit up.
Yamamoto watched him silently for a while, eyes thoughtful. “You always light one of those when I’m around, lately,” he noted calmly, and for the second time within five minutes Gokudera nearly died, this time choking on too much smoke inhaled too fast.
Damn that boy and his ill-timed perceptiveness.
“What makes you think there’s any reason for it?” he shot back once he’d stopped coughing. “Maybe you just fucking stress me out.”
The baseball freak made a noncommittal noise that might have been an agreement or a dissent, and when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to clarify what it meant, Gokudera figured it was safe to drop gracefully to the roof and lie there smoking and staring up at the sky. Probably the idiot would get bored and wander off eventually if he didn’t say anything... wasn’t that how the principle of playing dead worked?
Instead, as usual defying logic and assumptions, the infuriating bastard came over to lie next to him.
They both broke the long silence at the same time, with near identical starts of “I think I should tell you--” and “Just so you know--”. Then they both stopped, startled, heads turning toward each other at the same time, green eyes locking to brown ones. Yamamoto laughed, the sound easy and carefree as always, and somewhere inside Gokudera, reason lost the eternal, bloody battle with instinct.
“You go first, Gokudera,” Yamamoto offered, and that was all it took for the pale-haired boy to roll over, closing the short distance between them, and press his lips to Yamamoto’s in a fierce, desperate, almost violent kiss. The taste of the other boy’s cherry-flavoured lip balm made him wonder vaguely why he hadn’t done this any other of the roughly ten thousand times he’d wanted to. Then Yamamoto was kissing back, eagerly, which either made him a slut or Gokudera very wrong in his assumptions, and the Storm Guardian had to pull back - albeit reluctantly - to find out which was true.
Yamamoto laughed long and hard, and just as Gokudera was really losing to the temptation to punch him, he finally calmed down enough to explain that “really, Gokudera, you should see yourself with Tsuna - anyone would jump to the same conclusions!” This, of course, did not put much of a damper on that punch-the-baseball-freak reflex, and Yamamoto actually had to dodge a couple while clarifying that no, he hadn’t meant to insinuate anything about Gokudera’s relationship with his Tenth, nor had he intended to say that he had anything close to a ‘famiglia’ connection with the boy he’d been spending so much time around. “I just meant,” he grinned, rolling closer and grabbing both of Gokudera’s wrists in one of his astonishingly fast bursts of reflex, “that he and I are really good friends, y’know? I’m helping him with some family problems, and he’s giving me relationship advice.”
The bomber stilled at that, head tilting curiously. “What the fuck are you talking about? Relationship advice? You don’t--”
“Haha, you can be really dense sometimes, you know? He’s helping me figure out how to get your attention, Hayato.”
That easy grin had never wavered, and Yamamoto showed no signs of embarrassment at this admission of his feelings, or his casual use of Gokudera’s first name. Gokudera, for his part, felt flustered enough and embarrassed enough for the both of them, not least at his own idiocy, and covered it by swearing and struggling until Yamamoto flipped them both and pinned him to the roof with his own body weight. Which included his hips pressing down against Gokudera’s. Apparently, it also included his mouth exploring the entirety of the other boy’s neck, diligently finding every sensitive spot and exploiting them mercilessly.
After that, the only sounds coming from the roof were gasps and moans, and the only words were things along the line of “God, yes,” and “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” and finally two names rising into the air, intertwining like smoke from cigarettes.
Afterwards, as he pulled his pants up and fixed his shirt and belts, Gokudera allowed himself to indulge in some post-sex worries. Like would Yamamoto act differently now? Would he be (God forbid) even more clingy? Would he insist on some shit like calling each other ‘boyfriends’ and going on dates and mushy romantic crap like that?
His worries were eased when he saw Yamamoto - fully dressed again already - peering over the side of the roof, grin in place just as firmly as it always was, and with no difference in those warm eyes when they looked back over his shoulder at his companion. “Just checking to see if anyone might’ve heard us,” he explained wryly. “The last thing we want is Ryohei offering, y’know, extreme sex tips.”
Suddenly, Gokudera found himself wondering why he’d ever worried about anything in the first place, and also wondering if that was how Yamamoto felt about pretty much everything. “Come on, idiot,” he sighed, almost fondly. “The Tenth is already going to wonder why we’re so late.”
xXx END xXx
Author's Note: Based heavily off of Jesse McCartney’s song “Just So You Know”, and you can find bits and pieces of the lyrics in there if you look. And jeez, I started off serious and then there was just so much swearing (thank you, Gokudera) that I couldn’t help but laugh! So, since I was feeling whimsical and had kinda ruined the serious nature of the piece anyway, I inserted a Katy Perry reference. And lots of mush. Shoot me now. ;) Oh yeah and there’s a reference to an obscure hentai manga in there too but if anyone gets that one I’ll be amazed and maybe a little disturbed and please don’t ask why I know it in the first place.
Also, I worry that my writing got kind of woozy towards the middle through the end. It's 4:30 AM, so if that is the case, I’m really sorry D:
Also also, I was gonna write actual porn, but I totally chickened out! Gomen ;_; I dunno, I’ve never posted fic to a comm before, I’ve never written for this fandom before, and I’ve never posted actual porn under my own journal name before - only on anonymouse kink memes - so I didn’t wanna do three new experiences at once.
Now without further ado, before the author’s note becomes longer than the story itself... haha, I’ll just shut up. Hope you enjoyed what will likely be the first of many contributions~!