[FIC] My Ex-boyfriend - Part 1
Title: My Ex-boyfriend Part 1
Rating: M (for cursing)
Genre: Romance, Drama
Pairing: 8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)
Spoilers: None
Summary: My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku’s POV.
Author Notes:
a. Don’t own.
b. 1st attempt at KHR Fic (I LOVE 8059!) and attempt at some angst.
Part 1
Gokudera:
We dated. We fought. We broke up.
That about sums it up. I can't say for sure how things happened, but one thing led to another and suddenly it was over.
“Let's break up,” he had said, the usual smiling face now a mixture of conflicting forlorn. He wants to break up but he looks sad about it. What the fuck.
I turned away from him and put a cigarette in my mouth. I knew he hated it when I smoked, but I was pissed... and yes, I admit, this declaration hurt like a bitch.
“I just--- I just think it's for the best.” he continued. “After all these years, I feel like this whole thing... like I'm the only one that cares and it hurts.”
I didn't turn around and remained quiet. The only one he says? I'm fucking pissed now. Does he really think I'd spread my legs to just anyone? Fuck. I sucked a large breath of smoke to keep my twitching hand from punching his sorry face. I can hear him shifting his weight around nervously, as if he is expecting me to react violently or emotionally. Hell no, I won't give him that satisfaction. He thinks I don't care. Fine.
“Hayato...” he went on. “Feels like you don't love---.”
“You done, asshole?” I cut in. I don't want to hear it. Go away.
“But, Hayato, I---”
I steeled my face before turning around. “Look, you came here to say what you needed to say. Don't waste my time 'cause the Tenth needs me soon. So are you done?”
He stared at me for a moment, hands clenched on his sides. His face became blank, but his eyes turned a dark hue of cold amber. I knew he only did this when he was starting to lose patience, which was rare but unexpectedly possible for a man like him.
“Yes, I'm done.” he declared. “We're done here.”
**
At 29, I'm never really sure what to do with myself. After coming back from the future, life has progressed rather smoothly and peacefully. I dedicated my life for the Vongola and especially for the Tenth, but there aren't too many missions to do now that the issues have been resolved. For the Vongola, most of the members ended up with their own careers outside the family. I busied myself with lab research at Namimori University, with occasional teaching on the side. Sometimes I traveled to Italy to see the Tenth, but that was probably once a month for progress reports or special family occasions. He knew I hated Italy, so he never asked me to go unless it was for family business.
The baseball idiot continued to be the best hitman in the team, but he managed to take over his father's restaurant and become a coach for a local baseball team. Like myself, he sometimes did missions, but the peace at hand made that far and in-between. Surprisingly, life was normal, but it wasn't all that smooth.
We started dating after college graduation. He didn't come to me with a bouquet of roses and ask me out, not that I wanted any of that crap. It just sort of happened. Baseball nut received a degree in business, to help with his father's shop, and I kept pursuing higher education. We had a graduation party with the family at Takesushi which lasted until the midst of a rainy early morning. He insisted on walking me home.
“It's raining pretty hard,” he had said with a sheepish grin. “I've got an umbrella. And it's not like you live that far from here.”
I just shrugged. Long ago, I would have blown his head off, but times have changed. I guess age does things to you.
Once at the gate of my apartment complex, he abruptly leaned close to me. Taken in surprise, I could only react by backing up against the gate and staring confusedly. He looked nervous yet eager for... something, like a dog who wanted a treat but knew it was bad to beg for it.
“Um, say...” he said, voice slightly shaking. “I, um,...”
He was leaning closer as he spoke, but his stuttering didn't make sense. Feeling his heat and smelling his scent was starting to agitate me. “Just out with it, idiot.” I snapped.
“Can I kiss you?”
I blinked, dumbfounded. It wasn't exactly a confession, but knowing this idiot, nothing ever happened straightforwardly. His stare became less nervous but more intense, so my face started to feel hot. What the fuck is he doing? I opened my mouth to call him an idiot, but no words came out. Instead, warm lips gently covered my own. Chaste, sweet, and arousingly addictive. I hated to admit it, but something as ordinary as that felt so damned good.
That's when the 7 years started.
**
“Professor? Professor?”
I looked up from the papers on my desk. Two students from my class peered at me inquisitively. I rubbed my temples. I can't believe I spaced out during office hours.
“Office hours are over. If you want to know how to do this, just read the book.” I growled curtly.
The two students looked at each other, then immediately rushed away.
“Dude, we better go, he's in one of those moods,” one of them whispered to the other on the way out.
I slammed my office door shut, immediately taking a cigarette to my lips. I made my way to lean against the window, staring at the clear, grassy baseball field of the university grounds.
My eyes grew misty, but no tears came. I hadn't cried since I was a kid and heard about my mother's situation. After that, I had no more tears to shed.
Still, it fucking hurt inside, but it wasn't the same pain as when someone broke your ribs, or when a bomb exploded in your face. It wasn't something that I could put a band-aid on, or get rid of by solving an equation. It was too fucking complex and I hated myself for feeling like a pitiful sap. When I was 14, I would have exploded into a tirade of curses, or blew up a building in absolute rage. Adulthood does things to you, building these invisible lines on the sand for holding anger in a heart-shaped box unless it was “appropriate” to let go. I don't care for these rules, but when it came to that idiot, nothing came straightforwardly.
Fucking ridiculous.
Let's break up.
Can I kiss you?
We're done here.
I stubbed the cigarette on an ashtray. I needed to go home. I didn't feel hungry, nor feel the need to buy any food. Lately, I come to work, buy cigarettes, then go home. That's the story of my so-called life at fucking 29.
As I put on my coat and grabbed my keys, my office phone rang. I picked up the phone. “Hello?” I grunted.
“Gokudera?” a familiar voice sounded.
I smiled for the first time in days. “Tenth!” I greeted excitedly. “How are you? Did you need something?”
“Ah, no, no. Just... wondering how you are doing?”
Either Tenth's hyper-intuition was that strong, or word within the family just spread that fast. I put on a fake smile, hoping it reached my voice. “I'm doing great, Tenth! My research at the university is taking off and there's talk of potential tenure in a few years! Life's... great right now.”
“Ok, that's good to hear.” Tenth responded. “Actually, I called to ask a favor.”
“Of course, of course. Anything for you, Tenth.” I eagerly stated.
“Well, Kyoko and I are getting married.”
I gaped.
“And,” Tenth continued. “I was wondering if you would be my best man.”
I paused a moment. It was certainly good --- no--- great news.
“Gokudera?”
“Ah, yes! Yes, congratulations, Tenth! I'm so honored to be your best man!”
I could practically hear Tenth beaming through the phone. I listened in bittersweet enthusiasm as Tenth continued explaining the details of the impending wedding. Strange. It felt like only yesterday that we were in junior high watching the Tenth pine over this same girl.
“I'm hoping you can help coordinate the guardians in Japan to come here for the wedding,” he said. “Er, that is... if you are ok with that.”
There it was again, that tone of uncertainty. No, I don't want the Tenth to worry about me, especially not about something so stupid. “Of course, Tenth!” I reassured him. “I'd love to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Gokudera. I'll send you the guest list soon.”
I didn't have to ask him if a certain someone is on the list. It was obvious, but I didn't want to think about it too much.
End of Chapter.
Rating: M (for cursing)
Genre: Romance, Drama
Pairing: 8059 (Yamamoto x Gokudera)
Spoilers: None
Summary: My 1st KHR fic. After many years of dating, Yamamoto and Gokudera decide to break up, but is this really going to work? Yama and Goku’s POV.
Author Notes:
a. Don’t own.
b. 1st attempt at KHR Fic (I LOVE 8059!) and attempt at some angst.
Part 1
Gokudera:
We dated. We fought. We broke up.
That about sums it up. I can't say for sure how things happened, but one thing led to another and suddenly it was over.
“Let's break up,” he had said, the usual smiling face now a mixture of conflicting forlorn. He wants to break up but he looks sad about it. What the fuck.
I turned away from him and put a cigarette in my mouth. I knew he hated it when I smoked, but I was pissed... and yes, I admit, this declaration hurt like a bitch.
“I just--- I just think it's for the best.” he continued. “After all these years, I feel like this whole thing... like I'm the only one that cares and it hurts.”
I didn't turn around and remained quiet. The only one he says? I'm fucking pissed now. Does he really think I'd spread my legs to just anyone? Fuck. I sucked a large breath of smoke to keep my twitching hand from punching his sorry face. I can hear him shifting his weight around nervously, as if he is expecting me to react violently or emotionally. Hell no, I won't give him that satisfaction. He thinks I don't care. Fine.
“Hayato...” he went on. “Feels like you don't love---.”
“You done, asshole?” I cut in. I don't want to hear it. Go away.
“But, Hayato, I---”
I steeled my face before turning around. “Look, you came here to say what you needed to say. Don't waste my time 'cause the Tenth needs me soon. So are you done?”
He stared at me for a moment, hands clenched on his sides. His face became blank, but his eyes turned a dark hue of cold amber. I knew he only did this when he was starting to lose patience, which was rare but unexpectedly possible for a man like him.
“Yes, I'm done.” he declared. “We're done here.”
**
At 29, I'm never really sure what to do with myself. After coming back from the future, life has progressed rather smoothly and peacefully. I dedicated my life for the Vongola and especially for the Tenth, but there aren't too many missions to do now that the issues have been resolved. For the Vongola, most of the members ended up with their own careers outside the family. I busied myself with lab research at Namimori University, with occasional teaching on the side. Sometimes I traveled to Italy to see the Tenth, but that was probably once a month for progress reports or special family occasions. He knew I hated Italy, so he never asked me to go unless it was for family business.
The baseball idiot continued to be the best hitman in the team, but he managed to take over his father's restaurant and become a coach for a local baseball team. Like myself, he sometimes did missions, but the peace at hand made that far and in-between. Surprisingly, life was normal, but it wasn't all that smooth.
We started dating after college graduation. He didn't come to me with a bouquet of roses and ask me out, not that I wanted any of that crap. It just sort of happened. Baseball nut received a degree in business, to help with his father's shop, and I kept pursuing higher education. We had a graduation party with the family at Takesushi which lasted until the midst of a rainy early morning. He insisted on walking me home.
“It's raining pretty hard,” he had said with a sheepish grin. “I've got an umbrella. And it's not like you live that far from here.”
I just shrugged. Long ago, I would have blown his head off, but times have changed. I guess age does things to you.
Once at the gate of my apartment complex, he abruptly leaned close to me. Taken in surprise, I could only react by backing up against the gate and staring confusedly. He looked nervous yet eager for... something, like a dog who wanted a treat but knew it was bad to beg for it.
“Um, say...” he said, voice slightly shaking. “I, um,...”
He was leaning closer as he spoke, but his stuttering didn't make sense. Feeling his heat and smelling his scent was starting to agitate me. “Just out with it, idiot.” I snapped.
“Can I kiss you?”
I blinked, dumbfounded. It wasn't exactly a confession, but knowing this idiot, nothing ever happened straightforwardly. His stare became less nervous but more intense, so my face started to feel hot. What the fuck is he doing? I opened my mouth to call him an idiot, but no words came out. Instead, warm lips gently covered my own. Chaste, sweet, and arousingly addictive. I hated to admit it, but something as ordinary as that felt so damned good.
That's when the 7 years started.
**
“Professor? Professor?”
I looked up from the papers on my desk. Two students from my class peered at me inquisitively. I rubbed my temples. I can't believe I spaced out during office hours.
“Office hours are over. If you want to know how to do this, just read the book.” I growled curtly.
The two students looked at each other, then immediately rushed away.
“Dude, we better go, he's in one of those moods,” one of them whispered to the other on the way out.
I slammed my office door shut, immediately taking a cigarette to my lips. I made my way to lean against the window, staring at the clear, grassy baseball field of the university grounds.
My eyes grew misty, but no tears came. I hadn't cried since I was a kid and heard about my mother's situation. After that, I had no more tears to shed.
Still, it fucking hurt inside, but it wasn't the same pain as when someone broke your ribs, or when a bomb exploded in your face. It wasn't something that I could put a band-aid on, or get rid of by solving an equation. It was too fucking complex and I hated myself for feeling like a pitiful sap. When I was 14, I would have exploded into a tirade of curses, or blew up a building in absolute rage. Adulthood does things to you, building these invisible lines on the sand for holding anger in a heart-shaped box unless it was “appropriate” to let go. I don't care for these rules, but when it came to that idiot, nothing came straightforwardly.
Fucking ridiculous.
Let's break up.
Can I kiss you?
We're done here.
I stubbed the cigarette on an ashtray. I needed to go home. I didn't feel hungry, nor feel the need to buy any food. Lately, I come to work, buy cigarettes, then go home. That's the story of my so-called life at fucking 29.
As I put on my coat and grabbed my keys, my office phone rang. I picked up the phone. “Hello?” I grunted.
“Gokudera?” a familiar voice sounded.
I smiled for the first time in days. “Tenth!” I greeted excitedly. “How are you? Did you need something?”
“Ah, no, no. Just... wondering how you are doing?”
Either Tenth's hyper-intuition was that strong, or word within the family just spread that fast. I put on a fake smile, hoping it reached my voice. “I'm doing great, Tenth! My research at the university is taking off and there's talk of potential tenure in a few years! Life's... great right now.”
“Ok, that's good to hear.” Tenth responded. “Actually, I called to ask a favor.”
“Of course, of course. Anything for you, Tenth.” I eagerly stated.
“Well, Kyoko and I are getting married.”
I gaped.
“And,” Tenth continued. “I was wondering if you would be my best man.”
I paused a moment. It was certainly good --- no--- great news.
“Gokudera?”
“Ah, yes! Yes, congratulations, Tenth! I'm so honored to be your best man!”
I could practically hear Tenth beaming through the phone. I listened in bittersweet enthusiasm as Tenth continued explaining the details of the impending wedding. Strange. It felt like only yesterday that we were in junior high watching the Tenth pine over this same girl.
“I'm hoping you can help coordinate the guardians in Japan to come here for the wedding,” he said. “Er, that is... if you are ok with that.”
There it was again, that tone of uncertainty. No, I don't want the Tenth to worry about me, especially not about something so stupid. “Of course, Tenth!” I reassured him. “I'd love to help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Gokudera. I'll send you the guest list soon.”
I didn't have to ask him if a certain someone is on the list. It was obvious, but I didn't want to think about it too much.
End of Chapter.