Fic: Downpour (1/2)
Title: Downpour
Author: kittyling
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: 8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)
Warnings: Implied sex, some strong language, angst.
Notes: This is my first 8059 fic, and I've loved this pairing more or less since I first started reading Reborn. (Also, I'm sure I'm not the first one to use this title for a fic, haha.) I hope you all enjoy it! ♥
It wouldn't stop raining.
A week of torrential downpour and Gokudera was getting sick of it. The rainy season had started, air hot and thick with moisture even when it wasn't storming, but even so--this much was unusual.
The living room was dark, a lamp beside the piano clicked on as an afterthought. Huge raindrops splattered against the windows, curtains drawn as flashes of light filled the room, rumbling thunder preceding them. Gokudera could barely hear himself think over the sound of the rain, let alone hear the keys of the piano as he let slender fingers glide over them, warming up.
One week.
It was irritating. Fucking irritating. One jarring, wrong note as Gokudera let his mind wander, cursing inwardly and trying to find his rhythm again. He just needed to lose himself in this, to hear his own music instead of the downpour, to stop thinking about--
The skies had just opened up and within seconds they were drenched to the bone. Drenched but not cold, thanks to the summer air and the sake they'd just finished, skin flushed and tingling. Yamamoto had heard the thunder, watched the distant lightning from the couch they were on and grabbed Gokudera's wrist despite muttered protests and expletives, dragging the Storm Guardian outside just as the rain began to fall.
First storm of the summer. The air smelled fresh, almost crackling with energy and Yamamoto let go of Gokudera's wrist for a moment to step out further into it, spreading his arms and lifting his face to the sky, smiling like the idiot he was. He seemed to be drinking it in, not caring that his clothes were clinging to his skin, lean muscles clearly defined beneath his soaked shirt.
It had to be the sake that was making Gokudera's gaze linger on the baseball freak instead of dragging his ass back inside where it belonged. At this rate they'd both have to shower to keep from catching cold, and--
The door was open. Gokudera glanced behind him to see that the carpet was already soaked several inches into the house and he swore, stalking forward to grab Yamamoto's shoulder.
"Idiot, you left the door--"
Green eyes widened as a strong hand found his wrist, dragging him closer until Yamamoto's face was too close...
The door slammed shut.
Fingers paused over the piano keys; Gokudera felt his heart stop for a moment, startled.
For once the idiot had an umbrella so he wouldn't bring the rain in with him. Yamamoto stepped through the door and closed it, shrugging out of his coat and sliding out of his shoes. He had the nerve to smile when he met Gokudera's gaze, brown eyes warm.
"Can I listen?"
Gokudera let out a sharp puff of breath at that, turning back towards the piano, not wanting to see Yamamoto even through his peripheral vision. "Fuck you. No."
But of course the idiot was moving anyway, up the entry steps and into the room proper, bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he came closer. Body heat radiated off him--he even smelled like warmth, like spices and earth despite having just come in from the rain--and he sat beside Gokudera on the piano bench. Completely uninvited.
"I want to hear you play."
Yamamoto was kissing him. Hard.
Gokudera couldn't react for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as he felt those familiar fingers tangling in his hair, pushing it out of his face. The taller boy still tasted of sake, mouth warm and firm against his and--it was the alcohol, it had to be the alcohol--Gokudera's fingers were clenching in Yamamoto's shirt, tongues tangling as he returned the kiss.
It was sloppy and desperate and--incredible somehow, a spark ignited between them and suddenly Gokudera didn't want to stop. This was the stupidest thing he'd ever done, the stupidest thing that idiot had ever done and that was saying something, but in this moment, that didn't matter. What mattered was the calloused fingers roaming under his shirt now, sliding against wet skin and eliciting a moan as they brushed against a nipple, Gokudera's shirt pushed up so high that he just wanted it off.
But he wanted Yamamoto's off first, breaking the kiss long enough to press his lips to Yamamoto's neck and then bite down hard, the idiot letting out a startled laugh at that, the slight tremor to it letting Gokudera know that that felt good. His fingers flexed against Yamamoto's chest before he lifted his head, trying to tug the soaked fabric of his shirt up and over the taller boy's head. Coordination wasn't really working for them right now and Yamamoto's lips curved into a smile as he lifted his arms in an attempt to help, Gokudera cursing as that just tangled them further for a moment before the shirt was finally off, thrown somewhere onto the wet lawn.
He didn't really want to focus on how muscular Yamamoto's bare chest was and how the rain only seemed to accentuate that, how his jeans were low on his hips and looked considerably tighter now...
Luckily Gokudera didn't have much time to as they were kissing again and he wasn't sure which of them had initiated it or if they'd both grabbed each other at the same time. He was aware that they were stumbling backwards towards the door as Yamamoto's hands fumbled with one of many belts around his waist, door somehow closing behind them as Yamamoto breathed, the word almost lost between their lips.
"Shower."
Pale skin over black and white keys, long fingers moving gracefully, without hesitation though Gokudera's mind was elsewhere, drifting without his permission. He couldn't think about anything else and he hated himself for it.
It was easier to play than to talk, aware of Yamamoto's gaze on his hands and then his face, aware of their closeness right now. They were touching but not, the piano bench too short for both to sit comfortably until Yamamoto broke that unspoken barrier, an arm sliding naturally around Gokudera's waist. Like it belonged there.
By some miracle Gokudera didn't miss a note. This should have felt wrong, should have been repulsive but after a week without that touch-- He had missed it.
And that was the most frightening part. The fact that his mind could be so consumed by someone like this idiot sitting next to him, that he could wonder and make himself sick over the thought of what would happen if Yamamoto never touched him like that again. If he never fucked him again. 'Made love' as Yamamoto called it the next morning, but Gokudera didn't think a night of drunken groping counted as that. And they weren't in love, anyway.
Gokudera couldn't love someone like Yamamoto. Couldn't love the way the taller boy was kissing his neck now, the way his fingers were sliding just under the hem of his shirt. Couldn't love him because they were partners and they had to put the Tenth first and the thought of falling for him and needing another person--did he?--was terrifying and sickening.
It wasn't that he didn't. He just couldn't.
"Stop."
The discordant clang of Gokudera's fingers slamming against the piano keys clearly startled Yamamoto, and he straightened on the bench as Gokudera stood up suddenly, silver hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head, chest rising and falling heavily.
"Gokudera--"
Green eyes were unnaturally bright as they finally met Yamamoto's gaze, something more than the anger of his expression evident in them.
"I already told you that we're done. It was one stupid night of drinking and it didn't mean a single goddamn thing. Fuck, are you really that dense?"
The words visibly hurt and Gokudera hated it. Hated that he could throw insult after insult at Yamamoto and until now nothing had fazed him, the idiot always just grinning through the barrage of curses and rants but now--he flinched. The smile on Yamamoto's face was too serious for him, sad and resigned and Gokudera could barely stand to look at it as the taller boy stood, moving silently back towards the door.
It was oddly quiet now, and Gokudera wondered how long the storm outside had been this calm, his own heartbeat far too loud in his ears and he wished the thunder would return so it could drown out the pounding in his chest.
The look Yamamoto gave him was apologetic as the door opened again. There wasn't any need for an umbrella now, the storm reduced to a quiet drizzle.
"Sorry."
With that Yamamoto was gone, the soft click of the latch behind him almost echoing in the silence of the room. Gokudera sunk back down onto the piano bench, just staring at the closed door before lowering his head, fingers shakily pushing his bangs out of his eyes.
The rain was letting up, and Gokudera realized that he never really wanted it to.
Author: kittyling
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Rating: R
Pairing/Characters: 8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)
Warnings: Implied sex, some strong language, angst.
Notes: This is my first 8059 fic, and I've loved this pairing more or less since I first started reading Reborn. (Also, I'm sure I'm not the first one to use this title for a fic, haha.) I hope you all enjoy it! ♥
It wouldn't stop raining.
A week of torrential downpour and Gokudera was getting sick of it. The rainy season had started, air hot and thick with moisture even when it wasn't storming, but even so--this much was unusual.
The living room was dark, a lamp beside the piano clicked on as an afterthought. Huge raindrops splattered against the windows, curtains drawn as flashes of light filled the room, rumbling thunder preceding them. Gokudera could barely hear himself think over the sound of the rain, let alone hear the keys of the piano as he let slender fingers glide over them, warming up.
One week.
It was irritating. Fucking irritating. One jarring, wrong note as Gokudera let his mind wander, cursing inwardly and trying to find his rhythm again. He just needed to lose himself in this, to hear his own music instead of the downpour, to stop thinking about--
The skies had just opened up and within seconds they were drenched to the bone. Drenched but not cold, thanks to the summer air and the sake they'd just finished, skin flushed and tingling. Yamamoto had heard the thunder, watched the distant lightning from the couch they were on and grabbed Gokudera's wrist despite muttered protests and expletives, dragging the Storm Guardian outside just as the rain began to fall.
First storm of the summer. The air smelled fresh, almost crackling with energy and Yamamoto let go of Gokudera's wrist for a moment to step out further into it, spreading his arms and lifting his face to the sky, smiling like the idiot he was. He seemed to be drinking it in, not caring that his clothes were clinging to his skin, lean muscles clearly defined beneath his soaked shirt.
It had to be the sake that was making Gokudera's gaze linger on the baseball freak instead of dragging his ass back inside where it belonged. At this rate they'd both have to shower to keep from catching cold, and--
The door was open. Gokudera glanced behind him to see that the carpet was already soaked several inches into the house and he swore, stalking forward to grab Yamamoto's shoulder.
"Idiot, you left the door--"
Green eyes widened as a strong hand found his wrist, dragging him closer until Yamamoto's face was too close...
The door slammed shut.
Fingers paused over the piano keys; Gokudera felt his heart stop for a moment, startled.
For once the idiot had an umbrella so he wouldn't bring the rain in with him. Yamamoto stepped through the door and closed it, shrugging out of his coat and sliding out of his shoes. He had the nerve to smile when he met Gokudera's gaze, brown eyes warm.
"Can I listen?"
Gokudera let out a sharp puff of breath at that, turning back towards the piano, not wanting to see Yamamoto even through his peripheral vision. "Fuck you. No."
But of course the idiot was moving anyway, up the entry steps and into the room proper, bare feet padding softly on the carpet as he came closer. Body heat radiated off him--he even smelled like warmth, like spices and earth despite having just come in from the rain--and he sat beside Gokudera on the piano bench. Completely uninvited.
"I want to hear you play."
Yamamoto was kissing him. Hard.
Gokudera couldn't react for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as he felt those familiar fingers tangling in his hair, pushing it out of his face. The taller boy still tasted of sake, mouth warm and firm against his and--it was the alcohol, it had to be the alcohol--Gokudera's fingers were clenching in Yamamoto's shirt, tongues tangling as he returned the kiss.
It was sloppy and desperate and--incredible somehow, a spark ignited between them and suddenly Gokudera didn't want to stop. This was the stupidest thing he'd ever done, the stupidest thing that idiot had ever done and that was saying something, but in this moment, that didn't matter. What mattered was the calloused fingers roaming under his shirt now, sliding against wet skin and eliciting a moan as they brushed against a nipple, Gokudera's shirt pushed up so high that he just wanted it off.
But he wanted Yamamoto's off first, breaking the kiss long enough to press his lips to Yamamoto's neck and then bite down hard, the idiot letting out a startled laugh at that, the slight tremor to it letting Gokudera know that that felt good. His fingers flexed against Yamamoto's chest before he lifted his head, trying to tug the soaked fabric of his shirt up and over the taller boy's head. Coordination wasn't really working for them right now and Yamamoto's lips curved into a smile as he lifted his arms in an attempt to help, Gokudera cursing as that just tangled them further for a moment before the shirt was finally off, thrown somewhere onto the wet lawn.
He didn't really want to focus on how muscular Yamamoto's bare chest was and how the rain only seemed to accentuate that, how his jeans were low on his hips and looked considerably tighter now...
Luckily Gokudera didn't have much time to as they were kissing again and he wasn't sure which of them had initiated it or if they'd both grabbed each other at the same time. He was aware that they were stumbling backwards towards the door as Yamamoto's hands fumbled with one of many belts around his waist, door somehow closing behind them as Yamamoto breathed, the word almost lost between their lips.
"Shower."
Pale skin over black and white keys, long fingers moving gracefully, without hesitation though Gokudera's mind was elsewhere, drifting without his permission. He couldn't think about anything else and he hated himself for it.
It was easier to play than to talk, aware of Yamamoto's gaze on his hands and then his face, aware of their closeness right now. They were touching but not, the piano bench too short for both to sit comfortably until Yamamoto broke that unspoken barrier, an arm sliding naturally around Gokudera's waist. Like it belonged there.
By some miracle Gokudera didn't miss a note. This should have felt wrong, should have been repulsive but after a week without that touch-- He had missed it.
And that was the most frightening part. The fact that his mind could be so consumed by someone like this idiot sitting next to him, that he could wonder and make himself sick over the thought of what would happen if Yamamoto never touched him like that again. If he never fucked him again. 'Made love' as Yamamoto called it the next morning, but Gokudera didn't think a night of drunken groping counted as that. And they weren't in love, anyway.
Gokudera couldn't love someone like Yamamoto. Couldn't love the way the taller boy was kissing his neck now, the way his fingers were sliding just under the hem of his shirt. Couldn't love him because they were partners and they had to put the Tenth first and the thought of falling for him and needing another person--did he?--was terrifying and sickening.
It wasn't that he didn't. He just couldn't.
"Stop."
The discordant clang of Gokudera's fingers slamming against the piano keys clearly startled Yamamoto, and he straightened on the bench as Gokudera stood up suddenly, silver hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head, chest rising and falling heavily.
"Gokudera--"
Green eyes were unnaturally bright as they finally met Yamamoto's gaze, something more than the anger of his expression evident in them.
"I already told you that we're done. It was one stupid night of drinking and it didn't mean a single goddamn thing. Fuck, are you really that dense?"
The words visibly hurt and Gokudera hated it. Hated that he could throw insult after insult at Yamamoto and until now nothing had fazed him, the idiot always just grinning through the barrage of curses and rants but now--he flinched. The smile on Yamamoto's face was too serious for him, sad and resigned and Gokudera could barely stand to look at it as the taller boy stood, moving silently back towards the door.
It was oddly quiet now, and Gokudera wondered how long the storm outside had been this calm, his own heartbeat far too loud in his ears and he wished the thunder would return so it could drown out the pounding in his chest.
The look Yamamoto gave him was apologetic as the door opened again. There wasn't any need for an umbrella now, the storm reduced to a quiet drizzle.
"Sorry."
With that Yamamoto was gone, the soft click of the latch behind him almost echoing in the silence of the room. Gokudera sunk back down onto the piano bench, just staring at the closed door before lowering his head, fingers shakily pushing his bangs out of his eyes.
The rain was letting up, and Gokudera realized that he never really wanted it to.