[KHRfic] Punk Squares (8059-tothemax)
Yay, tomorrow's my birthday. xD; I would have posted this later for that occasion... but nevermind that. :D
Uh, why is the only thing I write these days stuff like this....
And wut, this is the most I've used swear words ever. I swear...
Don't read this if you know me IRL and/or do not read KHR. xD;
Did I mention I'm bad at finding titles? >_>
v Highlight to read.
Title: Punk Squares
Rating: NC-17?
Characters/Pairings: Lots of 8059, Tsuna, small mentions of others here and there
Title: Punk Squares
Rating: NC-17?
Characters/Pairings: Lots of 8059, Tsuna, small mentions of others here and there
Idea from here: Post in yamagoku , rodickparker and f_m_shorty
Word Count: 3600+
Warnings: Read the rating already...
Disclaimer: Reborn! is not mine. Or this would probably be more canon than subtext.
Summary: Read the post
AN: I hope this does it for you. -.- I used the ideas in the thread, apart from the laundry one since I saw that just when I'd finished and it's too hard to work in... Hopefully you like it... ^^;;
Comments appreciated, so I know if you like it or not. :P'
-----
The room was almost pitch black when they entered but both were much too desperate to bother with trivial things such as turning on any lights. They tore at each other’s clothes urgently, flinging it over their shoulders unceremoniously to land where they may, and hastily tumbled back towards the bed. Yamamoto being busy with Kaoru - to Gokudera’s secret jealousy - and the whole Shimon business meant their separation for the past week which both had felt keenly - whether or not they liked to admit it - and both were now feeling much too deprived, kissing each other roughly and passionately as if they didn’t want to stop.
Although his priority was still Tsuna’s safety, Gokudera hadn’t been able to ignore the lure of a night of pleasure - as long as it was just one night …. Right? Before Gokudera could react to his sudden motion, Yamamoto had torn his lips away, bent his head and was nibbling at Gokudera’s nipple, causing him to flinch and arch his back as Yamamoto’s hands also traced further south, stroking his hard arousal and simultaneously also inserting a finger into his already sensitive ass.
Yamamoto wet his lips with his tongue and reluctantly removed himself from Gokudera’s enticing nipple, drawing lower, wanting to explore Gokudera again after his - it seemed - long absence even as Gokudera protested weakly with his hands, pushing against Yamamoto’s head. He lapped a tongue down the length of Gokudera’s cock and across the tip, causing precum to slowly bead and trickle in earnest as Yamamoto closed his mouth around the head of it and brushed his tongue over the tip gently and repeatedly even as he inserted a second finger into Gokudera making him tremble violently and gasp. Yamamoto wound his fingers around until he was gripping Gokudera’s shaft firmly with one hand, stroking from base to tip, before he moved down yet again to lick enticingly at where his fingers had smoothly entered, pulling his fingers apart to widen the hole, then slipping his tongue in. Gokudera made a strangled sound and fisted Yamamoto’s spiky hair.
“Can’t … take it anymore.” Gokudera muttered unwillingly in a muffled voice.
Yamamoto’s response was to twist his mobile tongue inside until Gokudera arched his hips towards him, making a small cry, then Yamamoto fully withdrew, pulling Gokudera’s face up to kiss him. Gokudera could taste himself on Yamamoto’s tongue.
Yamamoto’s cock brushed his entrance and Gokudera instinctively tilted his hips to allow Yamamoto to enter better. Yamamoto entered easily, familiarly, burying himself deep before withdrawing, only the tip left inside, then pushing deeply again. He repeated the motion, hitting deeper each time, yet, when Gokudera felt he was about to climax, Yamamoto was suddenly gone and Gokudera, unsatisfied and annoyed, voiced his displeasure the only way he knew how.
“What the hell, bastard?!” He scowled, even as his arms were still wound around Yamamoto’s neck intimately.
“You’re so cute.” Yamamoto replied with a grin, unwinding Gokudera’s arms gently and suddenly flipping Gokudera over so he was on all fours (Gokudera didn’t look too pleased with this), his moist pink entrance facing Yamamoto. Yamamoto could not resist the urge of it, but felt the need to torture Gokudera a bit more.
One hand wrapped firmly around the base of Gokudera’s cock, gripping him firmly. Gokudera shivered, but did not realise the significance of the action as Yamamoto entered from behind, driving into Gokudera forcefully again and again, hitting the right spot with precision - what he should expect from his baseball idiot. The pleasure mounted yet the hand around Gokudera’s shaft gripped tight and did not move. Gokudera cried out in outrage as he realised Yamamoto was preventing him from coming, yet precum was still dripping from the tip of it as he trembled, the sensation mounting until he felt he would shatter into a million pieces yet unable to climax.
“Stop it, baseball idiot. Please.” Gokudera was almost begging as he panted, eyes half open and his expression desperate. He looked sexy as hell.
Yamamoto let out a laugh and pulled Gokudera backwards so Yamamoto was sitting with Gokudera impaled on him. He moved his hand languidly upwards along Gokudera’s cock and finally released him, then wrapped an arm around each of Gokudera’s legs, lifting the relatively light Gokudera up and simultaneously opening Gokudera further. Yamamoto thrust deeply into him again and again, his lips at Gokudera’s neck, kissing the soft skin as the silver hair brushed his face.
Gokudera cried out as he found his release, his muscles squeezing Yamamoto’s cock and it was not long after that Yamamoto found his as well, burying his face into the silver hair as he clutched Gokudera tighter. Gokudera panted, sweat-soaked silver strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and letting Yamamoto fully support him, but he leaned his cheek against Yamamoto’s forehead and they remained there for a while. Yamamoto released Gokudera and he sat with his head on Yamamoto’s chest as they allowed their heartbeats and breathing to slow.
Eventually, Yamamoto bent town to kiss Gokudera, once, twice, then they were kissing again in earnest. Yamamoto’s tongue dipped into Gokudera’s mouth and he received it willingly enough.
“Hmm.” Yamamoto smiled against Gokudera’s lips. “Seems active here again.” Somehow Yamamoto’s hands had moved down there without Gokudera’s noticing and Yamamoto stroked Gokudera’s already erect shaft again. Gokudera didn’t have to look or ask to know what was coming next, so he stretched up and kissed Yamamoto once more.
-----
Bright sunlight poured through the window as Gokudera blinked blearily, warm from the baseball idiot’s arms wrapped firmly around him and comfortably exhausted from their long long night. He glared at the still snoozing idiot, but nestled his face under Yamamoto’s chin, ready to go back to sleep before it registered to him perhaps he should check the time.
He took a glance and almost leapt right out of Yamamoto’s arms and off the bed - if only Yamamoto weren’t holding him so tightly.
“Crap!”
He turned back and shook Yamamoto’s shoulder urgently. “Hey Yamamoto! Get up! We’re going to be late!”
“Hn?” Yamamoto cracked open an eye. “Why are we going to be late?”
“It’s already 10 o’clock!” Gokudera scrambled off the bed, tried his best to ignore their mess on the bed - not to mention where else they had attempted sex last night - and hurried into the living room, forgetting he was still stark naked. As he entered the living room - where the curtains were thankfully closed - somehow it didn’t surprise him to see a sock hanging off the ceiling fan. It was a very good thing Yamamoto’s father had gone on a short vacation with some of his old friends that weekend. Then again, if not, he probably would have been up the whole night, shocked at the noise they made….
Yamamoto seemed to have recovered enough to stumble out of his bedroom. “You can take the shower first, Gokudera.” He muttered with a yawn as he rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.
“Ah.” Gokudera flicked his stringy hair from its thorough sweat-soaking and who knows what else from the previous night. “Thanks.” He made a beeline for the bathroom, not noticing Yamamoto, who was suddenly very awake, watching his firm ass move away as though mesmerised.
Nor did he notice the mischievous smile which suddenly sprang up on Yamamoto’s face.
Gokudera had barely been in the shower for a minute, the water just getting warm enough when the door opened and Gokudera whirled around to see Yamamoto enter the shower.
“What the fu-”
Before Gokudera could say anymore, Yamamoto had grabbed the soap and had reached down to stroke Gokudera’s cock, slicking it in the suds. Although Gokudera frowned, his forehead furrowed in disapproval, he was at least honest down below.
“We don’t have time for this!” Gokudera argued helplessly even as he unwittingly arched against Yamamoto who had cleaned the soap from Gokudera’s cock by rubbing and stroking until he was harder than he had been before. Yamamoto suddenly pulled Gokudera towards him, making Gokudera lean into him as Yamamoto reached around with soapy fingers to ‘clean’ Gokudera’s ass.
“I’m only helping you wash.” Yamamoto murmured into Gokudera’s ear.
Although Gokudera tried to argue, very soon he was stripped of his words, pressing against Yamamoto’s fingers, and his own soaped hands stroking Yamamoto’s length. Finally he swatted Yamamoto’s hands away, face flushed and glaring.
“Get on with it, idiot!”
Yamamoto complied, knowing this was not because of their matter of being late anymore. The way Gokudera had squeezed his fingers, Yamamoto knew Gokudera really wanted him to enter. Yamamoto grasped Gokudera tightly around the waist and hefted him easily as he had done on other occasions, although he still used to wall to brace Gokudera more easily. Lending gravity a helping hand, Yamamoto drove hard and deeply into Gokudera who moaned and pulled up his legs, angling himself to allow Yamamoto in deeper, wrapping his arms around Yamamoto’s head.
Yamamoto’s cock was buried deep inside his ass, the water from the shower and possibly some of the soap making the area slick and well as increasing the sensation as the water hit the already very sensitive area. Yamamoto’s hands were firmly around Gokudera’s hips. He pressed himself deeper into Gokudera, who let out an involuntary moan and was forced to brace his hands against the wall instead, pressing himself against it as he bucked his hips, tilting them as Yamamoto went deeper yet, slamming into him. It seemed almost as if Yamamoto wanted to drive Gokudera through that tiled wall, the way he kept banging into it from Yamamoto’s thrusts. He would definitely have tile marks to show for this.
Yamamoto thrust deep one last time and Gokudera wrapped his legs around Yamamoto’s waist, pressing him there firmly and forcing him even deeper, his legs tightening as they both came with strangled cries, water from the shower hitting their open mouths as they panted, their sweat mixing with the water trickling down their faces. The water was diluting and washing away the semen as Yamamoto, still breathing heavily, let Gokudera gently down from the wall. They stood there for a few minutes, Gokudera’s head pressed against Yamamoto’s shoulder and Yamamoto pressing his face against Gokudera’s sodden hair, letting the water simply wash away the sweat and just enjoying each other’s presence before Gokudera suddenly remembered his prior urgency.
“Oh shit, we are SO late.” Gokudera tore himself from Yamamoto’s embrace and dashed out of the shower, yanked a towel from the rack hastily and ran back outside as Yamamoto laughed despite himself at the way Gokudera had looked escaping the shower. He tried not to think about Gokudera’s departing behind, but it was a hard task.
Following, Yamamoto found Gokudera throwing on pretty much anything he laid his hands on as long as they fit through the right holes - not that it stopped Gokudera trying to pull a shirt on as pants before he realised and flung the shirt back over his shoulder. Gokudera hadn’t even noticed that his socks were mismatched although had enough of his fashion sense left to remember to throw on his back loosely knotted tie. Gokudera flung Yamamoto some articles of clothing he’d scooped from the floor, and Yamamoto glanced over them before he put them on. He noticed Gokudera’s shirt on the ground, but Gokudera was already hurrying back into the bathroom to find a comb. Yamamoto smiled to himself as he wondered just what Gokudera was wearing, put the shirt he’d found carefully in his room, and he took one of his shirts from his drawer and put it on. There, that was mostly presentable.
Gokudera came rushing back out again, comb in hand , smoothing his hair without even looking into a mirror as the one in the bathroom was covered in condensation from their shower, then he threw the comb on a table and jerked his head towards the door.
“C’mon, baseball idiot! Let’s go! The Jyuudaime is waiting!”
Yamamoto shook his head with a smile and followed unhurriedly.
-----
“Why are you going to Tsuna’s?” Yamamoto asked as they trotted along. “Have you been going there every day?”
“Of course.” Gokudera rolled his eyes. “I can’t trust Shimon to do a good enough job.”
“Eh, I don’t understand you.” Yamamoto said with a laugh.
“Whatever. I will protect the Jyuudaime flawlessly.” Gokudera said with determination, making a fist in front of his face before he suddenly frowned, noticing the pattern on the sleeve. “What the he-Isn’t this your shirt?”
“Um, looks like it.” Yamamoto said in his careless manner.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Gokudera scowled at him.
“I didn’t realise,” Yamamoto lied without a trace of guilt.
“Okay, so where the hell’s mine?”
“I don’t know.” Yamamoto lied again.
Gokudera scowled at Yamamoto even as he continued complaining. He was almost sure Yamamoto was pulling his leg and enjoying this. Although he really didn’t want to admit it though, he could smell Yamamoto’s scent on the shirt and secretly he was pleased. He tried to hide his smile by turning away as though annoyed.
Yamamoto wasn’t fooled for a minute. Gokudera hadn’t put much heart into his complaints but then again he was too distracted by the way Gokudera looked in his chequered shirt to really care that much. Gokudera looked so pretty with his hair glinting like that in the sun … Yamamoto turned away quickly lest he jumped Gokudera’s bones right there on the street.
Tsuna had seen them approach and watched them interact awkwardly. He put his head in his hands and shook his head both in despair and embarrassment. Urgh he didn’t want to be caught up in a situation like this. When he looked up again, Gokudera was scowling although waving a welcome to Tsuna, and Yamamoto was gazing at Gokudera again, his eyes looking somewhat glazed.
Tsuna sighed deeply, wanting to hit his head against something hard, but waved back and went to meet them.
-----
OMAKE
Gokudera escaped home in the afternoon, weary after the events of the day even though he himself had not been on guard duty even though that didn’t usually stop him from guarding all the same. The difference today was that he had smelt the scent of Yamamoto on his shirt all day thanks to the fact that he’d stored his current shirt too close to the shirt he’d taken from Yamamoto - accidentally of course. Although he still felt a nagging suspicion about Yamamoto’s part in his accidentally acquiring the chequered shirt, now that he had the shirt, there was no way he was going to return it.
When he finally got back to his own home, thinking he should guard Tsuna again, yet feeling too tired to stay up for another night, he unlocked the door, went inside and collapsed on his small couch. The cool fabric felt good against his heated skin.
Gokudera got up, pulled Yamamoto’s chequered shirt from the depths of his drawer and pressed it to his face breathing in Yamamoto’s scent fully. Suddenly he felt his cock strain against the confines of his jeans and realised he’d been in a state of half arousal the whole day because of Yamamoto’s scent. It almost felt dirty to be like that around the Jyuudaime. Even so, it was hardly his fault.
Gokudera wrapped the chequered shirt firmly around his head, breathing in deeply and imagining what Yamamoto would be doing to him now if he had accompanied Gokudera home. But no, he had been doing baseball with that Kaoru. A prickle of jealousy stabbed at him although he dashed it away as he undid his button and zip and slid his hands into his jeans. He rubbed himself, slowly, languidly as Yamamoto was prone to do, and then used his other hand to slide his finger into his ass, probing, imagining with the help of Yamamoto’s scent that Yamamoto was the one treating him to the usual ecstasy. But Gokudera could only do so much by himself - it was not enough although his imagination helped.
Gokudera moaned - his fingers could not go far enough - but he thrust his fingers like Yamamoto would thrust his cock into his ass and he also thrust his own cock into his other hand until he came, careful not to get Yamamoto’s shirt dirty. He lay there for a few minutes, despising that he truly wanted another night with the baseball idiot, and then got up to wash his hands, mentally giving himself a slap. Righting his clothing somewhat before he could change into pyjamas for bed, Gokudera took off the shirt and threw it onto the couch. He then headed into the dark bedroom, trying not to let it remind him of that lustful night at Yamamoto’s house, and changed into his pyjamas.
He was about to put on his pyjama top when he paused and something compelled him to go back outside. He sat down on the couch, battling with himself to put the shirt on, or not…. And the compelling side won. Hand shaking, Gokudera reached over slowly, pulled the shirt towards him and slipped it on, buttoning it up before he lay down across the couch, hating himself even as he breathed Yamamoto’s scent again, fighting with his libido.
Finally exhaustion overcame him and he drifted off to a sleep.
Meanwhile, Yamamoto waved goodnight to Kaoru as he started to head home. But the prospect of an empty house was immediately unwelcome and Yamamoto paused where he was. He was not far from Gokudera’s house. Perhaps he could surprise him, seeing as he had the spare key which Gokudera had apparently reluctantly thrown at him a few weeks ago ‘just in case’. Luckily Yamamoto’s baseball reflexes had kicked in and he had snatched it before it could hit him. Ah, Gokudera was so endearing.
His heart in his throat, Yamamoto turned and made a beeline for Gokudera’s apartment. Although he noticed the light on underneath the door, he slid his key in the lock, hoping Gokudera wouldn’t throw a mass of bombs at him thinking he was an intruder or something. Luckily for him, Gokudera didn’t or Yamamoto assumed he didn’t as he entered without being attacked, and it took until he closed the door before what he saw registered. Gokudera was lying sideways on the couch, asleep, wearing his chequered shirt and dark pyjama bottoms, the silver hair splaying out across the couch and feathering across his face.
Yamamoto felt the blood rush up to his face and clapped his hands across his mouth and nose immediately. GOD, Gokudera looked so darn cute lying on that couch like that, let alone in that same chequered shirt Yamamoto had been admiring his beauty in one morning walking down the street a while ago. If Gokudera ever heard his thoughts Yamamoto guessed he would probably get blown sky high by the feisty Italian, but he didn’t care.
He was over beside Gokudera in a flash, hands already moving over Gokudera who awoke slowly from his sleep to notice Yamamoto over him, hands already creeping over the elastic of his pyjama bottoms and his - or that is, Yamamoto’s - chequered shirt already half open. Yamamoto reached beneath Gokudera’s underwear to find him already hard and dripping. The little session Gokudera had with himself before had been nowhere near enough and although he coloured now and scowled, he didn’t say anything as Yamamoto eased off all his clothing beneath the waist.
All it took was another look at Gokudera, aroused and wearing only his chequered shirt, his gaze still half sleepy as he blushed fiercely, and that silver hair scattered all over the dark fabric of the couch and Yamamoto couldn’t control himself any longer. He bent down and licked Gokudera’s hole hurriedly, probing inside a little and providing a little lubricant with his saliva, then straightened, bending over Gokudera as he none too gently thrust into Gokudera. But Gokudera didn’t seem to mind, grinding his hips against Yamamoto, feeling the pleasure he hadn’t been able to by himself. He moaned as Yamamoto withdrew and thrust hard and harder until Gokudera came with a cry, his inner muscles squeezing Yamamoto so hard that he fought hard to keep himself from climaxing just yet, determined to draw it out and intensify the pleasure.
Yamamoto reached down and clasped Gokudera’s cock, pumping it as he continued to thrust, less fiercely than before but building up, thrusting harder and deeper than before as Gokudera began to vocalise again, aroused once again by Yamamoto’s ministrations both to his rear end and the hand pumping at his cock. Gokudera climaxed a second time and this time Yamamoto gave in so that he climaxed at the same time with a rush of supreme ecstasy from having held on for so long, the two of them in such harmony Yamamoto felt as though he could feel Gokudera’s every breath at that minute.
Gokudera could feel Yamamoto spilling his hot seed into him and strangely enough felt complete now. Semen dripped from where they were joined onto the fabric of the couch but Gokudera didn’t care. The couch was already somewhat dirty. No doubt he would have to clean it later or something but it didn’t matter now.
Yamamoto lifted his face from Gokudera’s shoulder and stretched up to kiss him thoroughly before withdrawing to look down at the enticing Gokudera still in his chequered shirt. He had a feeling it was going to be another sleepless night and from the look in Gokudera’s eyes he had noticed too.
“No! I need to-”
But whatever he was about to say was dashed from his mind as Yamamoto kissed him, using his mouth to physically stop Gokudera’s protest, and then Yamamoto’s clever mouth moved lower and the pleasure overrode all thought.
Uh, why is the only thing I write these days stuff like this....
And wut, this is the most I've used swear words ever. I swear...
Don't read this if you know me IRL and/or do not read KHR. xD;
Did I mention I'm bad at finding titles? >_>
v Highlight to read.
Title: Punk Squares
Rating: NC-17?
Characters/Pairings: Lots of 8059, Tsuna, small mentions of others here and there
Title: Punk Squares
Rating: NC-17?
Characters/Pairings: Lots of 8059, Tsuna, small mentions of others here and there
Idea from here: Post in yamagoku , rodickparker and f_m_shorty
Word Count: 3600+
Warnings: Read the rating already...
Disclaimer: Reborn! is not mine. Or this would probably be more canon than subtext.
Summary: Read the post
AN: I hope this does it for you. -.- I used the ideas in the thread, apart from the laundry one since I saw that just when I'd finished and it's too hard to work in... Hopefully you like it... ^^;;
Comments appreciated, so I know if you like it or not. :P'
-----
The room was almost pitch black when they entered but both were much too desperate to bother with trivial things such as turning on any lights. They tore at each other’s clothes urgently, flinging it over their shoulders unceremoniously to land where they may, and hastily tumbled back towards the bed. Yamamoto being busy with Kaoru - to Gokudera’s secret jealousy - and the whole Shimon business meant their separation for the past week which both had felt keenly - whether or not they liked to admit it - and both were now feeling much too deprived, kissing each other roughly and passionately as if they didn’t want to stop.
Although his priority was still Tsuna’s safety, Gokudera hadn’t been able to ignore the lure of a night of pleasure - as long as it was just one night …. Right? Before Gokudera could react to his sudden motion, Yamamoto had torn his lips away, bent his head and was nibbling at Gokudera’s nipple, causing him to flinch and arch his back as Yamamoto’s hands also traced further south, stroking his hard arousal and simultaneously also inserting a finger into his already sensitive ass.
Yamamoto wet his lips with his tongue and reluctantly removed himself from Gokudera’s enticing nipple, drawing lower, wanting to explore Gokudera again after his - it seemed - long absence even as Gokudera protested weakly with his hands, pushing against Yamamoto’s head. He lapped a tongue down the length of Gokudera’s cock and across the tip, causing precum to slowly bead and trickle in earnest as Yamamoto closed his mouth around the head of it and brushed his tongue over the tip gently and repeatedly even as he inserted a second finger into Gokudera making him tremble violently and gasp. Yamamoto wound his fingers around until he was gripping Gokudera’s shaft firmly with one hand, stroking from base to tip, before he moved down yet again to lick enticingly at where his fingers had smoothly entered, pulling his fingers apart to widen the hole, then slipping his tongue in. Gokudera made a strangled sound and fisted Yamamoto’s spiky hair.
“Can’t … take it anymore.” Gokudera muttered unwillingly in a muffled voice.
Yamamoto’s response was to twist his mobile tongue inside until Gokudera arched his hips towards him, making a small cry, then Yamamoto fully withdrew, pulling Gokudera’s face up to kiss him. Gokudera could taste himself on Yamamoto’s tongue.
Yamamoto’s cock brushed his entrance and Gokudera instinctively tilted his hips to allow Yamamoto to enter better. Yamamoto entered easily, familiarly, burying himself deep before withdrawing, only the tip left inside, then pushing deeply again. He repeated the motion, hitting deeper each time, yet, when Gokudera felt he was about to climax, Yamamoto was suddenly gone and Gokudera, unsatisfied and annoyed, voiced his displeasure the only way he knew how.
“What the hell, bastard?!” He scowled, even as his arms were still wound around Yamamoto’s neck intimately.
“You’re so cute.” Yamamoto replied with a grin, unwinding Gokudera’s arms gently and suddenly flipping Gokudera over so he was on all fours (Gokudera didn’t look too pleased with this), his moist pink entrance facing Yamamoto. Yamamoto could not resist the urge of it, but felt the need to torture Gokudera a bit more.
One hand wrapped firmly around the base of Gokudera’s cock, gripping him firmly. Gokudera shivered, but did not realise the significance of the action as Yamamoto entered from behind, driving into Gokudera forcefully again and again, hitting the right spot with precision - what he should expect from his baseball idiot. The pleasure mounted yet the hand around Gokudera’s shaft gripped tight and did not move. Gokudera cried out in outrage as he realised Yamamoto was preventing him from coming, yet precum was still dripping from the tip of it as he trembled, the sensation mounting until he felt he would shatter into a million pieces yet unable to climax.
“Stop it, baseball idiot. Please.” Gokudera was almost begging as he panted, eyes half open and his expression desperate. He looked sexy as hell.
Yamamoto let out a laugh and pulled Gokudera backwards so Yamamoto was sitting with Gokudera impaled on him. He moved his hand languidly upwards along Gokudera’s cock and finally released him, then wrapped an arm around each of Gokudera’s legs, lifting the relatively light Gokudera up and simultaneously opening Gokudera further. Yamamoto thrust deeply into him again and again, his lips at Gokudera’s neck, kissing the soft skin as the silver hair brushed his face.
Gokudera cried out as he found his release, his muscles squeezing Yamamoto’s cock and it was not long after that Yamamoto found his as well, burying his face into the silver hair as he clutched Gokudera tighter. Gokudera panted, sweat-soaked silver strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and letting Yamamoto fully support him, but he leaned his cheek against Yamamoto’s forehead and they remained there for a while. Yamamoto released Gokudera and he sat with his head on Yamamoto’s chest as they allowed their heartbeats and breathing to slow.
Eventually, Yamamoto bent town to kiss Gokudera, once, twice, then they were kissing again in earnest. Yamamoto’s tongue dipped into Gokudera’s mouth and he received it willingly enough.
“Hmm.” Yamamoto smiled against Gokudera’s lips. “Seems active here again.” Somehow Yamamoto’s hands had moved down there without Gokudera’s noticing and Yamamoto stroked Gokudera’s already erect shaft again. Gokudera didn’t have to look or ask to know what was coming next, so he stretched up and kissed Yamamoto once more.
-----
Bright sunlight poured through the window as Gokudera blinked blearily, warm from the baseball idiot’s arms wrapped firmly around him and comfortably exhausted from their long long night. He glared at the still snoozing idiot, but nestled his face under Yamamoto’s chin, ready to go back to sleep before it registered to him perhaps he should check the time.
He took a glance and almost leapt right out of Yamamoto’s arms and off the bed - if only Yamamoto weren’t holding him so tightly.
“Crap!”
He turned back and shook Yamamoto’s shoulder urgently. “Hey Yamamoto! Get up! We’re going to be late!”
“Hn?” Yamamoto cracked open an eye. “Why are we going to be late?”
“It’s already 10 o’clock!” Gokudera scrambled off the bed, tried his best to ignore their mess on the bed - not to mention where else they had attempted sex last night - and hurried into the living room, forgetting he was still stark naked. As he entered the living room - where the curtains were thankfully closed - somehow it didn’t surprise him to see a sock hanging off the ceiling fan. It was a very good thing Yamamoto’s father had gone on a short vacation with some of his old friends that weekend. Then again, if not, he probably would have been up the whole night, shocked at the noise they made….
Yamamoto seemed to have recovered enough to stumble out of his bedroom. “You can take the shower first, Gokudera.” He muttered with a yawn as he rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.
“Ah.” Gokudera flicked his stringy hair from its thorough sweat-soaking and who knows what else from the previous night. “Thanks.” He made a beeline for the bathroom, not noticing Yamamoto, who was suddenly very awake, watching his firm ass move away as though mesmerised.
Nor did he notice the mischievous smile which suddenly sprang up on Yamamoto’s face.
Gokudera had barely been in the shower for a minute, the water just getting warm enough when the door opened and Gokudera whirled around to see Yamamoto enter the shower.
“What the fu-”
Before Gokudera could say anymore, Yamamoto had grabbed the soap and had reached down to stroke Gokudera’s cock, slicking it in the suds. Although Gokudera frowned, his forehead furrowed in disapproval, he was at least honest down below.
“We don’t have time for this!” Gokudera argued helplessly even as he unwittingly arched against Yamamoto who had cleaned the soap from Gokudera’s cock by rubbing and stroking until he was harder than he had been before. Yamamoto suddenly pulled Gokudera towards him, making Gokudera lean into him as Yamamoto reached around with soapy fingers to ‘clean’ Gokudera’s ass.
“I’m only helping you wash.” Yamamoto murmured into Gokudera’s ear.
Although Gokudera tried to argue, very soon he was stripped of his words, pressing against Yamamoto’s fingers, and his own soaped hands stroking Yamamoto’s length. Finally he swatted Yamamoto’s hands away, face flushed and glaring.
“Get on with it, idiot!”
Yamamoto complied, knowing this was not because of their matter of being late anymore. The way Gokudera had squeezed his fingers, Yamamoto knew Gokudera really wanted him to enter. Yamamoto grasped Gokudera tightly around the waist and hefted him easily as he had done on other occasions, although he still used to wall to brace Gokudera more easily. Lending gravity a helping hand, Yamamoto drove hard and deeply into Gokudera who moaned and pulled up his legs, angling himself to allow Yamamoto in deeper, wrapping his arms around Yamamoto’s head.
Yamamoto’s cock was buried deep inside his ass, the water from the shower and possibly some of the soap making the area slick and well as increasing the sensation as the water hit the already very sensitive area. Yamamoto’s hands were firmly around Gokudera’s hips. He pressed himself deeper into Gokudera, who let out an involuntary moan and was forced to brace his hands against the wall instead, pressing himself against it as he bucked his hips, tilting them as Yamamoto went deeper yet, slamming into him. It seemed almost as if Yamamoto wanted to drive Gokudera through that tiled wall, the way he kept banging into it from Yamamoto’s thrusts. He would definitely have tile marks to show for this.
Yamamoto thrust deep one last time and Gokudera wrapped his legs around Yamamoto’s waist, pressing him there firmly and forcing him even deeper, his legs tightening as they both came with strangled cries, water from the shower hitting their open mouths as they panted, their sweat mixing with the water trickling down their faces. The water was diluting and washing away the semen as Yamamoto, still breathing heavily, let Gokudera gently down from the wall. They stood there for a few minutes, Gokudera’s head pressed against Yamamoto’s shoulder and Yamamoto pressing his face against Gokudera’s sodden hair, letting the water simply wash away the sweat and just enjoying each other’s presence before Gokudera suddenly remembered his prior urgency.
“Oh shit, we are SO late.” Gokudera tore himself from Yamamoto’s embrace and dashed out of the shower, yanked a towel from the rack hastily and ran back outside as Yamamoto laughed despite himself at the way Gokudera had looked escaping the shower. He tried not to think about Gokudera’s departing behind, but it was a hard task.
Following, Yamamoto found Gokudera throwing on pretty much anything he laid his hands on as long as they fit through the right holes - not that it stopped Gokudera trying to pull a shirt on as pants before he realised and flung the shirt back over his shoulder. Gokudera hadn’t even noticed that his socks were mismatched although had enough of his fashion sense left to remember to throw on his back loosely knotted tie. Gokudera flung Yamamoto some articles of clothing he’d scooped from the floor, and Yamamoto glanced over them before he put them on. He noticed Gokudera’s shirt on the ground, but Gokudera was already hurrying back into the bathroom to find a comb. Yamamoto smiled to himself as he wondered just what Gokudera was wearing, put the shirt he’d found carefully in his room, and he took one of his shirts from his drawer and put it on. There, that was mostly presentable.
Gokudera came rushing back out again, comb in hand , smoothing his hair without even looking into a mirror as the one in the bathroom was covered in condensation from their shower, then he threw the comb on a table and jerked his head towards the door.
“C’mon, baseball idiot! Let’s go! The Jyuudaime is waiting!”
Yamamoto shook his head with a smile and followed unhurriedly.
-----
“Why are you going to Tsuna’s?” Yamamoto asked as they trotted along. “Have you been going there every day?”
“Of course.” Gokudera rolled his eyes. “I can’t trust Shimon to do a good enough job.”
“Eh, I don’t understand you.” Yamamoto said with a laugh.
“Whatever. I will protect the Jyuudaime flawlessly.” Gokudera said with determination, making a fist in front of his face before he suddenly frowned, noticing the pattern on the sleeve. “What the he-Isn’t this your shirt?”
“Um, looks like it.” Yamamoto said in his careless manner.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Gokudera scowled at him.
“I didn’t realise,” Yamamoto lied without a trace of guilt.
“Okay, so where the hell’s mine?”
“I don’t know.” Yamamoto lied again.
Gokudera scowled at Yamamoto even as he continued complaining. He was almost sure Yamamoto was pulling his leg and enjoying this. Although he really didn’t want to admit it though, he could smell Yamamoto’s scent on the shirt and secretly he was pleased. He tried to hide his smile by turning away as though annoyed.
Yamamoto wasn’t fooled for a minute. Gokudera hadn’t put much heart into his complaints but then again he was too distracted by the way Gokudera looked in his chequered shirt to really care that much. Gokudera looked so pretty with his hair glinting like that in the sun … Yamamoto turned away quickly lest he jumped Gokudera’s bones right there on the street.
Tsuna had seen them approach and watched them interact awkwardly. He put his head in his hands and shook his head both in despair and embarrassment. Urgh he didn’t want to be caught up in a situation like this. When he looked up again, Gokudera was scowling although waving a welcome to Tsuna, and Yamamoto was gazing at Gokudera again, his eyes looking somewhat glazed.
Tsuna sighed deeply, wanting to hit his head against something hard, but waved back and went to meet them.
-----
OMAKE
Gokudera escaped home in the afternoon, weary after the events of the day even though he himself had not been on guard duty even though that didn’t usually stop him from guarding all the same. The difference today was that he had smelt the scent of Yamamoto on his shirt all day thanks to the fact that he’d stored his current shirt too close to the shirt he’d taken from Yamamoto - accidentally of course. Although he still felt a nagging suspicion about Yamamoto’s part in his accidentally acquiring the chequered shirt, now that he had the shirt, there was no way he was going to return it.
When he finally got back to his own home, thinking he should guard Tsuna again, yet feeling too tired to stay up for another night, he unlocked the door, went inside and collapsed on his small couch. The cool fabric felt good against his heated skin.
Gokudera got up, pulled Yamamoto’s chequered shirt from the depths of his drawer and pressed it to his face breathing in Yamamoto’s scent fully. Suddenly he felt his cock strain against the confines of his jeans and realised he’d been in a state of half arousal the whole day because of Yamamoto’s scent. It almost felt dirty to be like that around the Jyuudaime. Even so, it was hardly his fault.
Gokudera wrapped the chequered shirt firmly around his head, breathing in deeply and imagining what Yamamoto would be doing to him now if he had accompanied Gokudera home. But no, he had been doing baseball with that Kaoru. A prickle of jealousy stabbed at him although he dashed it away as he undid his button and zip and slid his hands into his jeans. He rubbed himself, slowly, languidly as Yamamoto was prone to do, and then used his other hand to slide his finger into his ass, probing, imagining with the help of Yamamoto’s scent that Yamamoto was the one treating him to the usual ecstasy. But Gokudera could only do so much by himself - it was not enough although his imagination helped.
Gokudera moaned - his fingers could not go far enough - but he thrust his fingers like Yamamoto would thrust his cock into his ass and he also thrust his own cock into his other hand until he came, careful not to get Yamamoto’s shirt dirty. He lay there for a few minutes, despising that he truly wanted another night with the baseball idiot, and then got up to wash his hands, mentally giving himself a slap. Righting his clothing somewhat before he could change into pyjamas for bed, Gokudera took off the shirt and threw it onto the couch. He then headed into the dark bedroom, trying not to let it remind him of that lustful night at Yamamoto’s house, and changed into his pyjamas.
He was about to put on his pyjama top when he paused and something compelled him to go back outside. He sat down on the couch, battling with himself to put the shirt on, or not…. And the compelling side won. Hand shaking, Gokudera reached over slowly, pulled the shirt towards him and slipped it on, buttoning it up before he lay down across the couch, hating himself even as he breathed Yamamoto’s scent again, fighting with his libido.
Finally exhaustion overcame him and he drifted off to a sleep.
Meanwhile, Yamamoto waved goodnight to Kaoru as he started to head home. But the prospect of an empty house was immediately unwelcome and Yamamoto paused where he was. He was not far from Gokudera’s house. Perhaps he could surprise him, seeing as he had the spare key which Gokudera had apparently reluctantly thrown at him a few weeks ago ‘just in case’. Luckily Yamamoto’s baseball reflexes had kicked in and he had snatched it before it could hit him. Ah, Gokudera was so endearing.
His heart in his throat, Yamamoto turned and made a beeline for Gokudera’s apartment. Although he noticed the light on underneath the door, he slid his key in the lock, hoping Gokudera wouldn’t throw a mass of bombs at him thinking he was an intruder or something. Luckily for him, Gokudera didn’t or Yamamoto assumed he didn’t as he entered without being attacked, and it took until he closed the door before what he saw registered. Gokudera was lying sideways on the couch, asleep, wearing his chequered shirt and dark pyjama bottoms, the silver hair splaying out across the couch and feathering across his face.
Yamamoto felt the blood rush up to his face and clapped his hands across his mouth and nose immediately. GOD, Gokudera looked so darn cute lying on that couch like that, let alone in that same chequered shirt Yamamoto had been admiring his beauty in one morning walking down the street a while ago. If Gokudera ever heard his thoughts Yamamoto guessed he would probably get blown sky high by the feisty Italian, but he didn’t care.
He was over beside Gokudera in a flash, hands already moving over Gokudera who awoke slowly from his sleep to notice Yamamoto over him, hands already creeping over the elastic of his pyjama bottoms and his - or that is, Yamamoto’s - chequered shirt already half open. Yamamoto reached beneath Gokudera’s underwear to find him already hard and dripping. The little session Gokudera had with himself before had been nowhere near enough and although he coloured now and scowled, he didn’t say anything as Yamamoto eased off all his clothing beneath the waist.
All it took was another look at Gokudera, aroused and wearing only his chequered shirt, his gaze still half sleepy as he blushed fiercely, and that silver hair scattered all over the dark fabric of the couch and Yamamoto couldn’t control himself any longer. He bent down and licked Gokudera’s hole hurriedly, probing inside a little and providing a little lubricant with his saliva, then straightened, bending over Gokudera as he none too gently thrust into Gokudera. But Gokudera didn’t seem to mind, grinding his hips against Yamamoto, feeling the pleasure he hadn’t been able to by himself. He moaned as Yamamoto withdrew and thrust hard and harder until Gokudera came with a cry, his inner muscles squeezing Yamamoto so hard that he fought hard to keep himself from climaxing just yet, determined to draw it out and intensify the pleasure.
Yamamoto reached down and clasped Gokudera’s cock, pumping it as he continued to thrust, less fiercely than before but building up, thrusting harder and deeper than before as Gokudera began to vocalise again, aroused once again by Yamamoto’s ministrations both to his rear end and the hand pumping at his cock. Gokudera climaxed a second time and this time Yamamoto gave in so that he climaxed at the same time with a rush of supreme ecstasy from having held on for so long, the two of them in such harmony Yamamoto felt as though he could feel Gokudera’s every breath at that minute.
Gokudera could feel Yamamoto spilling his hot seed into him and strangely enough felt complete now. Semen dripped from where they were joined onto the fabric of the couch but Gokudera didn’t care. The couch was already somewhat dirty. No doubt he would have to clean it later or something but it didn’t matter now.
Yamamoto lifted his face from Gokudera’s shoulder and stretched up to kiss him thoroughly before withdrawing to look down at the enticing Gokudera still in his chequered shirt. He had a feeling it was going to be another sleepless night and from the look in Gokudera’s eyes he had noticed too.
“No! I need to-”
But whatever he was about to say was dashed from his mind as Yamamoto kissed him, using his mouth to physically stop Gokudera’s protest, and then Yamamoto’s clever mouth moved lower and the pleasure overrode all thought.