24: Behind the curtains in the ballroom during a ball
Title: Baseball Blues [explicit]
Author: sunshine_melodi
Prompt: 24 - Behind the curtains in the ballroom during a ball
Wordcount: 2233
Author's Notes: This is very rough and unbetaed. *fails* It took so long because I ended up writing too much. Haha. Happens sometimes. XD; I hope it's alright, the characters may be a bit OOC but I'll let you guys decide. They are TYL! afterall. XD I have no idea how I came up with the title either. It seemed fitting though...for some reason. XD;;;
The annual ball held at the Vongola Mansion was an event to look forward to. It was an event that brought the families together for a night of celebration and fun. The Jyuudaime would spend the better part of his spare time planning and organizing - with the help of the girls of course - in preparation for the occasion. And what a grand affair it was.
Gokudera Hayato, much to his chagrin, was in charge of overseeing the decorations. As much as he disliked the art of interior décor, he could never say ‘no’ to Tsuna. Even if the young boss had been coerced by three pushy young women. And with Bianchi apart of the three aforementioned females, Hayato’s resolve diminished to almost nothing. Refusing that woman would probably be the death of him.
He shuddered.
The masquerade, as it turned out to be this year, would be held in the grand ballroom of the mansion. Gokudera had chosen a deep crimson and gold for the colour theme. He thought those shades suited the Jyuudaime the most. Yamamoto had suggested blue and gold but that suggestion had been immediately rejected. The baseball idiot merely shrugged his shoulders and laughed it off.
Gokudera hadn’t seen him around since.
He supposed it was because the dark haired man had been put in charge of security. It was the task that Gokudera had originally wanted. As Tsuna’s right hand man, it was fitting. Gokudera had lost out on that one by a landslide. Yamamoto was useless when it came to anything else but baseball and security.
The idiot.
Gokudera checked over his ‘to-do’ list as he looked over the entirety of the ballroom. The lights of the chandeliers were slightly dimmed for a ‘romantic’ effect. Five oversized burgundy drapes cascaded to the floor between the six columns on either side of the length of the room. Each was bordered with gold lines of varying shape to bring out the intricate embroidered Vongola crest at the center. Tsuna had almost had a heart attack when Gokudera told him how much the decorations cost. Reborn had promptly knocked a little sense into the young boss and approved of the white haired man’s choice.
The stage for the live band was strategically located underneath the skylight at the far end of the room. It was not so much for the best sound quality. It was more for the ‘dancing under the moonlight’ effect. That had actually been Haru’s suggestion. Well, demand was more like it. Not that Gokudera minded. He rather liked the idea.
Gokudera sighed audibly. Last minute touches were the worst before events such as this so he really did try to keep them to a minimum. Servants were still bustling about, rearranging the tables and chairs to compensate for last minute guests. The band was late and damn was he ever glad he had nothing to do with the catering. Working with the chef Reborn had hired was a battle unto itself. Bianchi had reluctantly given up the position as head chef upon Vongola’s number one hitman’s request. That Reborn had an impressive way with words.
Going over his list one more time, Gokudera nodded to himself and deemed his unwanted assignment complete. The guests would be arriving within the next two hours and he still had to prepare his own costume. Well, he had sent Yamamoto out to get him something to wear for the ball the other day. They were supposed to go together as it was their day off but Gokudera had bluntly stood him up claiming he still had work to do. He had chosen to ignore the look the other man gave him and sent him off with a wave and ‘just pick something out for me’.
He never thought that he’d be paying for his actions later.
That’s exactly what he thought as he eyed the silky clothing lying on the bed before him. It was spread out neatly over the duvet with a small note attached.
‘Wear this.
Takeshi’
Gokudera shook his head and made his way to the adjoining bathroom. A shower was priority. He’d deal with Yamamoto later for picking something so…Yamamoto. It was his fault though for blowing the dark haired man off and then permitting him to choose his attire for the evening.
~*~
The Jyuudaime’s ball was larger this year, Gokudera noted as he studied the large crowd before him. He wasn’t too thrilled to be there but if this was how he supported Tsuna, then so be it. The music was light and smooth, almost relaxing. He had a long day and he wasn’t expecting to go to bed early tonight. The silver haired man scanned the room once more in an attempt to seek out Yamamoto. The sword wielder had been ‘MIA’ all evening so far and Gokudera didn’t want to get up and look for the idiot. He didn’t want people to comment on his costume.
He glared down at the yukata with contempt. Had it been plain, Gokudera would not have minded so much but as he fingered the embroidered baseballs - yes, baseballs - he scowled. This costume screams Yamamoto and where the hell did that freak find something like this?
Finally, after seething for long enough, Gokudera got up to look for his wayward companion to promptly kick his ass for making him wear such an idiotic get-up. It’d be next to pointless if he walked blindly through a crowd of cleverly disguised people so he chose to walk along the make shift drapery walls all the while keeping a keen eye on the mass of sequins and masks. He didn’t even know what Yamamoto was wearing.
Well, shit.
As he neared the stage under the skylight, Gokudura caught a glimpse of who he thought could be Yamamoto. The man was wearing a black cape and a mask but that build and that hair, Gokudera knew. It had to be him. He was about to maneuver his way through the clusters of people when a strong hand gripped his bicep and pulled him back against a firm chest. Another hand was placed against his mouth before he could protest and he was literally hauled back past the opening of the nearest oversized curtain of red material.
He grunted as he was forced against the marble column. His attacker then twisted both his arms behind his back and held them there with one hand. He turned to get a look at his assailant but lost his chance when the other man pressed his body against Gokudera’s and nuzzled into his hair.
“What the he…”
A familiar chuckle reverberated through the air, “You’re a bit slow today, Hayato.”
What the fuck, Yamamoto?” Gokudera growled out as he tried to break free of the taller man’s grasp.
“Quiet,” he hushed, “I don’t want anyone walking in on us.”
In a calmer voice, Gokudera reiterated, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I missed you.” Was Yamamoto’s answer.
And Gokudera was not prepared at all for the warm hand that was suddenly placed on his abdomen. Nor was he prepared for when that hand slid up and through the opening of his yukata. Despite its heat, the familiar touch elicited goose bumps to form over his chest. Gokudera’s breath hitched when Yamamoto’s calloused fingers grazed a budding nipple.
“Idiot.”
“You missed me too, huh?”
Gokudera could feel the grin against his neck when Yamamoto kissed his pulse; light and gentle. The lingering hand on his chest was removed to loosen the tie holding Gokudera’s yukata in place. A rustle of fabric was barely heard over the soft melody of the music playing as the blue garment fell open and Yamamoto’s hand found its way back to his lover’s exposed skin.
“You bastard,” Gokudera hissed, “We can’t do this here!”
Yamamoto laughed, “If you don’t make too much noise, we will be fine.”
Before he could retort the dark haired man slipped his hand into Gokudera’s boxers to grasp his half hardened cock. Gokudera bit his lip to stifle the groan that threatened to escape as he was stroked in that slow agonizingly way Yamamoto sometimes did to tease him.
While his hand was busy down south, Yamamoto put his mouth to good use against the expanse of Gokudera’s exposed neck and shoulder. The yukata had slipped past the silver haired man’s shoulders pooling where his arm bent behind him. Gokudera shivered as a hot tongue licked a wet path along his trapezius to suck at the point where his neck and shoulder met. He could feel the slight nip of teeth graze the skin there before Yamamoto’s lips were brushing along his jaw. The feather light kisses felt like fire against his heated skin.
Yamamoto released his lover’s arms just as he began to thumb the tip of Gokudera’s length and speed up his ministrations. Gokudera instinctively reached out to hold himself up against the marble column before him and thrust into Yamamoto’s hand. The moan that managed to slip past his defenses did not go unheard by the man behind him. It was then that the skilled hand moving up and down his cock started to falter. Damn and he was so close.
He didn’t register what exactly Yamamoto was doing with his other hand. He was too far gone by then but he did feel the back of the yukata being lifted away and cold slick fingers rubbing up and down over the sensitive flesh of his opening. When the hell did that happen? It was too late to ask now though as one slick digit slipped inside. Gokudera grunted at the intrusion. It’s been a while since they last done this and it was just barely uncomfortable.
His breathing had been reduced to shallow panting by the time Yamamoto had three fingers pumping in and out of his body. Having protested at first, Gokudera had completely forgotten about the party just on the other side of the curtain. That is, until now when he stared through the slight crack between the drape and column with half lidded eyes. When he saw the dancing couples moving gracefully across the floor.
Gokudera’s eyes widened in realization and managed to speak between his irregular breathing, “Are you insane?”
There was another chuckle from behind him, “I am.” Was all that was said as the fingers were removed from inside of him. He heard the sound of a belt buckle being loosened and a zipper being hastily pulled down. The wet, all too familiar noise of Yamamoto slickening his own cock with what was left on his hand from Gokudera’s preparation could also be heard. And the feelings that act invoked were sent straight to Gokudera’s groin.
Gokudera allowed Yamamoto to spread his legs a little more as the tip of the taller man’s length was pressed against his opening. Yamamoto had long since ceased asking permission to enter his lover’s body. After all this time, it no longer mattered. Gokudera groaned, audibly, when Yamamoto pushed forward into him.
“You need to be quieter,” Yamamoto’s husky voice spoke into his ear as his head was tipped up to look out at the many guests milling about the ballroom, “It’s not much separation from us to them, you know?”
“Idiot,” Gokudera ground out, “Just…”
Whatever the silver haired man was going to say was completely forgotten when Yamamoto started to move. It was slow at first which was normal. Yamamoto never lost control until he was certain Gokudera could handle it.
His hands that were placed on each of Gokudera’s hips gripped tightly as he pulled out only partially. He paused for a moment before pushing back into that tight heat with ease. That was signal enough for him to move faster. And he did.
Gokudera tried hold back the sounds emitting from his throat. He really did but the feeling of his lover fucking him so thoroughly from behind was almost too much. The music playing was accentuated with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, Yamamoto’s pleasured grunts and Gokudera’s moans and pleas for more. Damn it, he hoped that no one else could hear what he could as their tempo only seemed to increase with an intensity beyond reason.
Gokudera reached down to fist himself when he felt Yamamoto’s rhythm falter. He knew the other man was close and so was he. Gokudera looked out at the crowd once more before the colours he saw clashed and melded together as his vision blurred. He came, hot and fast. His seed splashed against the marble column and floor beneath. His cry was muffled against Yamamoto’s hand that had slipped up to cover his mouth some time ago.
Gokudera groaned once more as Yamamoto bit his shoulder to hinder his own voice from being heard as he spilled his seed deep within the man before him. He licked the small hurt as he rode out his orgasm. Their sweat slicked bodies pressed against each other, both leaning on the marble column for support. Yamamoto wrapped his arms around Gokudera’s waist and nuzzled into his lover’s silver hair.
“You looked good tonight,” he commented, basking in the afterglow.
Gokudera could only mumble, “Stupid baseball freak…ridiculous yukata…baseballs…bastard…”
“I love you too, Hayato.”
Gokudera couldn’t resist the small smile that formed upon hearing those five words that never got old.
Author: sunshine_melodi
Prompt: 24 - Behind the curtains in the ballroom during a ball
Wordcount: 2233
Author's Notes: This is very rough and unbetaed. *fails* It took so long because I ended up writing too much. Haha. Happens sometimes. XD; I hope it's alright, the characters may be a bit OOC but I'll let you guys decide. They are TYL! afterall. XD I have no idea how I came up with the title either. It seemed fitting though...for some reason. XD;;;
The annual ball held at the Vongola Mansion was an event to look forward to. It was an event that brought the families together for a night of celebration and fun. The Jyuudaime would spend the better part of his spare time planning and organizing - with the help of the girls of course - in preparation for the occasion. And what a grand affair it was.
Gokudera Hayato, much to his chagrin, was in charge of overseeing the decorations. As much as he disliked the art of interior décor, he could never say ‘no’ to Tsuna. Even if the young boss had been coerced by three pushy young women. And with Bianchi apart of the three aforementioned females, Hayato’s resolve diminished to almost nothing. Refusing that woman would probably be the death of him.
He shuddered.
The masquerade, as it turned out to be this year, would be held in the grand ballroom of the mansion. Gokudera had chosen a deep crimson and gold for the colour theme. He thought those shades suited the Jyuudaime the most. Yamamoto had suggested blue and gold but that suggestion had been immediately rejected. The baseball idiot merely shrugged his shoulders and laughed it off.
Gokudera hadn’t seen him around since.
He supposed it was because the dark haired man had been put in charge of security. It was the task that Gokudera had originally wanted. As Tsuna’s right hand man, it was fitting. Gokudera had lost out on that one by a landslide. Yamamoto was useless when it came to anything else but baseball and security.
The idiot.
Gokudera checked over his ‘to-do’ list as he looked over the entirety of the ballroom. The lights of the chandeliers were slightly dimmed for a ‘romantic’ effect. Five oversized burgundy drapes cascaded to the floor between the six columns on either side of the length of the room. Each was bordered with gold lines of varying shape to bring out the intricate embroidered Vongola crest at the center. Tsuna had almost had a heart attack when Gokudera told him how much the decorations cost. Reborn had promptly knocked a little sense into the young boss and approved of the white haired man’s choice.
The stage for the live band was strategically located underneath the skylight at the far end of the room. It was not so much for the best sound quality. It was more for the ‘dancing under the moonlight’ effect. That had actually been Haru’s suggestion. Well, demand was more like it. Not that Gokudera minded. He rather liked the idea.
Gokudera sighed audibly. Last minute touches were the worst before events such as this so he really did try to keep them to a minimum. Servants were still bustling about, rearranging the tables and chairs to compensate for last minute guests. The band was late and damn was he ever glad he had nothing to do with the catering. Working with the chef Reborn had hired was a battle unto itself. Bianchi had reluctantly given up the position as head chef upon Vongola’s number one hitman’s request. That Reborn had an impressive way with words.
Going over his list one more time, Gokudera nodded to himself and deemed his unwanted assignment complete. The guests would be arriving within the next two hours and he still had to prepare his own costume. Well, he had sent Yamamoto out to get him something to wear for the ball the other day. They were supposed to go together as it was their day off but Gokudera had bluntly stood him up claiming he still had work to do. He had chosen to ignore the look the other man gave him and sent him off with a wave and ‘just pick something out for me’.
He never thought that he’d be paying for his actions later.
That’s exactly what he thought as he eyed the silky clothing lying on the bed before him. It was spread out neatly over the duvet with a small note attached.
‘Wear this.
Takeshi’
Gokudera shook his head and made his way to the adjoining bathroom. A shower was priority. He’d deal with Yamamoto later for picking something so…Yamamoto. It was his fault though for blowing the dark haired man off and then permitting him to choose his attire for the evening.
~*~
The Jyuudaime’s ball was larger this year, Gokudera noted as he studied the large crowd before him. He wasn’t too thrilled to be there but if this was how he supported Tsuna, then so be it. The music was light and smooth, almost relaxing. He had a long day and he wasn’t expecting to go to bed early tonight. The silver haired man scanned the room once more in an attempt to seek out Yamamoto. The sword wielder had been ‘MIA’ all evening so far and Gokudera didn’t want to get up and look for the idiot. He didn’t want people to comment on his costume.
He glared down at the yukata with contempt. Had it been plain, Gokudera would not have minded so much but as he fingered the embroidered baseballs - yes, baseballs - he scowled. This costume screams Yamamoto and where the hell did that freak find something like this?
Finally, after seething for long enough, Gokudera got up to look for his wayward companion to promptly kick his ass for making him wear such an idiotic get-up. It’d be next to pointless if he walked blindly through a crowd of cleverly disguised people so he chose to walk along the make shift drapery walls all the while keeping a keen eye on the mass of sequins and masks. He didn’t even know what Yamamoto was wearing.
Well, shit.
As he neared the stage under the skylight, Gokudura caught a glimpse of who he thought could be Yamamoto. The man was wearing a black cape and a mask but that build and that hair, Gokudera knew. It had to be him. He was about to maneuver his way through the clusters of people when a strong hand gripped his bicep and pulled him back against a firm chest. Another hand was placed against his mouth before he could protest and he was literally hauled back past the opening of the nearest oversized curtain of red material.
He grunted as he was forced against the marble column. His attacker then twisted both his arms behind his back and held them there with one hand. He turned to get a look at his assailant but lost his chance when the other man pressed his body against Gokudera’s and nuzzled into his hair.
“What the he…”
A familiar chuckle reverberated through the air, “You’re a bit slow today, Hayato.”
What the fuck, Yamamoto?” Gokudera growled out as he tried to break free of the taller man’s grasp.
“Quiet,” he hushed, “I don’t want anyone walking in on us.”
In a calmer voice, Gokudera reiterated, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I missed you.” Was Yamamoto’s answer.
And Gokudera was not prepared at all for the warm hand that was suddenly placed on his abdomen. Nor was he prepared for when that hand slid up and through the opening of his yukata. Despite its heat, the familiar touch elicited goose bumps to form over his chest. Gokudera’s breath hitched when Yamamoto’s calloused fingers grazed a budding nipple.
“Idiot.”
“You missed me too, huh?”
Gokudera could feel the grin against his neck when Yamamoto kissed his pulse; light and gentle. The lingering hand on his chest was removed to loosen the tie holding Gokudera’s yukata in place. A rustle of fabric was barely heard over the soft melody of the music playing as the blue garment fell open and Yamamoto’s hand found its way back to his lover’s exposed skin.
“You bastard,” Gokudera hissed, “We can’t do this here!”
Yamamoto laughed, “If you don’t make too much noise, we will be fine.”
Before he could retort the dark haired man slipped his hand into Gokudera’s boxers to grasp his half hardened cock. Gokudera bit his lip to stifle the groan that threatened to escape as he was stroked in that slow agonizingly way Yamamoto sometimes did to tease him.
While his hand was busy down south, Yamamoto put his mouth to good use against the expanse of Gokudera’s exposed neck and shoulder. The yukata had slipped past the silver haired man’s shoulders pooling where his arm bent behind him. Gokudera shivered as a hot tongue licked a wet path along his trapezius to suck at the point where his neck and shoulder met. He could feel the slight nip of teeth graze the skin there before Yamamoto’s lips were brushing along his jaw. The feather light kisses felt like fire against his heated skin.
Yamamoto released his lover’s arms just as he began to thumb the tip of Gokudera’s length and speed up his ministrations. Gokudera instinctively reached out to hold himself up against the marble column before him and thrust into Yamamoto’s hand. The moan that managed to slip past his defenses did not go unheard by the man behind him. It was then that the skilled hand moving up and down his cock started to falter. Damn and he was so close.
He didn’t register what exactly Yamamoto was doing with his other hand. He was too far gone by then but he did feel the back of the yukata being lifted away and cold slick fingers rubbing up and down over the sensitive flesh of his opening. When the hell did that happen? It was too late to ask now though as one slick digit slipped inside. Gokudera grunted at the intrusion. It’s been a while since they last done this and it was just barely uncomfortable.
His breathing had been reduced to shallow panting by the time Yamamoto had three fingers pumping in and out of his body. Having protested at first, Gokudera had completely forgotten about the party just on the other side of the curtain. That is, until now when he stared through the slight crack between the drape and column with half lidded eyes. When he saw the dancing couples moving gracefully across the floor.
Gokudera’s eyes widened in realization and managed to speak between his irregular breathing, “Are you insane?”
There was another chuckle from behind him, “I am.” Was all that was said as the fingers were removed from inside of him. He heard the sound of a belt buckle being loosened and a zipper being hastily pulled down. The wet, all too familiar noise of Yamamoto slickening his own cock with what was left on his hand from Gokudera’s preparation could also be heard. And the feelings that act invoked were sent straight to Gokudera’s groin.
Gokudera allowed Yamamoto to spread his legs a little more as the tip of the taller man’s length was pressed against his opening. Yamamoto had long since ceased asking permission to enter his lover’s body. After all this time, it no longer mattered. Gokudera groaned, audibly, when Yamamoto pushed forward into him.
“You need to be quieter,” Yamamoto’s husky voice spoke into his ear as his head was tipped up to look out at the many guests milling about the ballroom, “It’s not much separation from us to them, you know?”
“Idiot,” Gokudera ground out, “Just…”
Whatever the silver haired man was going to say was completely forgotten when Yamamoto started to move. It was slow at first which was normal. Yamamoto never lost control until he was certain Gokudera could handle it.
His hands that were placed on each of Gokudera’s hips gripped tightly as he pulled out only partially. He paused for a moment before pushing back into that tight heat with ease. That was signal enough for him to move faster. And he did.
Gokudera tried hold back the sounds emitting from his throat. He really did but the feeling of his lover fucking him so thoroughly from behind was almost too much. The music playing was accentuated with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, Yamamoto’s pleasured grunts and Gokudera’s moans and pleas for more. Damn it, he hoped that no one else could hear what he could as their tempo only seemed to increase with an intensity beyond reason.
Gokudera reached down to fist himself when he felt Yamamoto’s rhythm falter. He knew the other man was close and so was he. Gokudera looked out at the crowd once more before the colours he saw clashed and melded together as his vision blurred. He came, hot and fast. His seed splashed against the marble column and floor beneath. His cry was muffled against Yamamoto’s hand that had slipped up to cover his mouth some time ago.
Gokudera groaned once more as Yamamoto bit his shoulder to hinder his own voice from being heard as he spilled his seed deep within the man before him. He licked the small hurt as he rode out his orgasm. Their sweat slicked bodies pressed against each other, both leaning on the marble column for support. Yamamoto wrapped his arms around Gokudera’s waist and nuzzled into his lover’s silver hair.
“You looked good tonight,” he commented, basking in the afterglow.
Gokudera could only mumble, “Stupid baseball freak…ridiculous yukata…baseballs…bastard…”
“I love you too, Hayato.”
Gokudera couldn’t resist the small smile that formed upon hearing those five words that never got old.