Inspired by Chapter 294
Specifically, inspired by Gokudera's fabulous fury face. Alcy was talking about 5980 hatesex with K, I heard about it, and this was born. But I don't know how I feel about it. :/
Note: Gokudera is in his early twenties, around 23.
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When Gokudera hisses “You fucking idiot” this time, he isn’t playing, doesn’t have a smile tucked away in the corner of his mouth. He’s forcing his cock into Yamamoto without care for tearing, his hands braced on Yamamoto’s shoulders and his elbows wedged against the small of Yamamoto’s back to hold him still against the wall. “You fucking idiot, you wanted this, you wanted me to fuck you for our fucking anniversary, didn’t you, so you let the Tenth go to the Barassi meeting by himself, didn’t you, didn’t you! You fucker, you asshole, how braindead are you that you fucking leave him like that, you- you-”
Gokudera is too furious for words, so he pins Yamamoto and fucks him in rough jerks, unloading his anger onto the person most responsible for Tsuna’s stay in the hospital. He knows that the Tenth’s injury isn’t life-threatening, nothing Ryohei can’t fix, but it could’ve been, could’ve been. Tsuna could’ve died, and it would’ve indirectly been Gokudera’s fault. He chokes on something bitter in his throat, something like poison, and he shoves Yamamoto against the wall.
“You think because I fuck you means I’ll forgive you if something happens to Tsuna?” Gokudera grunts, feeling Yamamoto’s walls slicken with blood. He knows he’s putting Yamamoto through excruciating pain, but he deserves it, Gokudera thinks, he deserves it. “You ever pull a stunt like that ever again, I’ll kill you. I’ll track you down and put a gun to your head and pull the trigger while looking you in the eye, don’t think I won’t. Pull a stunt like that ever again, and you’ll mean nothing to me.” Gokudera ends on a sibilant note and a particularly hard thrust. He gasps, shuddering, as he adds his cum to the blood in Yamamoto’s ass.
In the aftermath, Gokudera’s ears suddenly tune to a different station; he hears Yamamoto’s ragged breathing, his muffled sobs. He’s whispering a mantra of “Sorry”s just underneath his breath. Gokudera pulls out and reels back, disgusted. What a sick memory to make on the anniversary of their first year of marriage; what just happened was an outright rape if there ever was one.
Gokudera turns - he needs to get away before he retches from self-loathing - but Yamamoto’s voice calls him back. “Wait, Hayato, don’t leave, I’m sorry, I didn’t think Tsuna would- I messed up, I was an idiot, you’re right, just please don’t-”
Gokudera looks over his shoulder and comes back to himself - Yamamoto’s a mess, blood and cum staining his thighs, bruises peppering his back and a heavy misery deepening the lines of his face. Gokudera’s bloodlust quiets and he comes back with gentle hands. He folds himself against Yamamoto, cradles him like a dance partner in the still of the night. “Come on,” Gokudera mumbles. “Let’s get you to bed, I’m so sorry,”
“No, it’s my fault-” Yamamoto groans as Gokudera shoulders his weight. They limp across their kitchen, away from strewn clothes and broken furniture - the collateral damage of the vicious struggle that led them to the mounting in a claustrophobic corner of their living room.
“No, what could excuse me for doing what I did-” Gokudera opens the door to their bedroom; the hinges creak as Gokudera helps Yamamoto to sit gingerly on their bed. Gokudera stands to get antiseptic and bandages and his sun box, but Yamamoto clasps an arm around his waist.
“No, that was the best way,” Yamamoto says, pressing his cheek against Gokudera’s hip. “I know it and you know it because Tsuna- it was my fault and-” his voice breaks “and what would’ve happened if you’d, if you hadn’t - we would’ve slowly crumbled because there would always be this anger and guilt between us and we wouldn’t trust each other and I don’t want that, Hayato, I don’t because I love you and I’m so sorry.” Gokudera can feel Yamamoto’s sobs wracking his entire side, and there’s a lance of pain in his side that compels him to sit down. “I don’t want to lose you,” Yamamoto confesses. “I messed up, I know I did, but if we just forgive each other for everything that happened today- we can get past this.”
Gokudera holds Yamamoto. He thinks that maybe Yamamoto is right, maybe this precipitous disaster is better than a slow dissolution, but he knows that things are still going to change. After this, Yamamoto will never again indulge in their relationship, never put it before Tsuna - which is the way Gokudera has lived for a long time, but that didn’t mean it was happier than the alternative, only more practical. Gokudera knows that he’ll miss being first in Yamamoto’s eyes. But that’s okay. They’re men now, not boys, and the honeymoon period is over. As he comforts Yamamoto and heals his wounds, Gokudera starts planning the way he will pound the Barassi into dust.
Note: Gokudera is in his early twenties, around 23.
-----
When Gokudera hisses “You fucking idiot” this time, he isn’t playing, doesn’t have a smile tucked away in the corner of his mouth. He’s forcing his cock into Yamamoto without care for tearing, his hands braced on Yamamoto’s shoulders and his elbows wedged against the small of Yamamoto’s back to hold him still against the wall. “You fucking idiot, you wanted this, you wanted me to fuck you for our fucking anniversary, didn’t you, so you let the Tenth go to the Barassi meeting by himself, didn’t you, didn’t you! You fucker, you asshole, how braindead are you that you fucking leave him like that, you- you-”
Gokudera is too furious for words, so he pins Yamamoto and fucks him in rough jerks, unloading his anger onto the person most responsible for Tsuna’s stay in the hospital. He knows that the Tenth’s injury isn’t life-threatening, nothing Ryohei can’t fix, but it could’ve been, could’ve been. Tsuna could’ve died, and it would’ve indirectly been Gokudera’s fault. He chokes on something bitter in his throat, something like poison, and he shoves Yamamoto against the wall.
“You think because I fuck you means I’ll forgive you if something happens to Tsuna?” Gokudera grunts, feeling Yamamoto’s walls slicken with blood. He knows he’s putting Yamamoto through excruciating pain, but he deserves it, Gokudera thinks, he deserves it. “You ever pull a stunt like that ever again, I’ll kill you. I’ll track you down and put a gun to your head and pull the trigger while looking you in the eye, don’t think I won’t. Pull a stunt like that ever again, and you’ll mean nothing to me.” Gokudera ends on a sibilant note and a particularly hard thrust. He gasps, shuddering, as he adds his cum to the blood in Yamamoto’s ass.
In the aftermath, Gokudera’s ears suddenly tune to a different station; he hears Yamamoto’s ragged breathing, his muffled sobs. He’s whispering a mantra of “Sorry”s just underneath his breath. Gokudera pulls out and reels back, disgusted. What a sick memory to make on the anniversary of their first year of marriage; what just happened was an outright rape if there ever was one.
Gokudera turns - he needs to get away before he retches from self-loathing - but Yamamoto’s voice calls him back. “Wait, Hayato, don’t leave, I’m sorry, I didn’t think Tsuna would- I messed up, I was an idiot, you’re right, just please don’t-”
Gokudera looks over his shoulder and comes back to himself - Yamamoto’s a mess, blood and cum staining his thighs, bruises peppering his back and a heavy misery deepening the lines of his face. Gokudera’s bloodlust quiets and he comes back with gentle hands. He folds himself against Yamamoto, cradles him like a dance partner in the still of the night. “Come on,” Gokudera mumbles. “Let’s get you to bed, I’m so sorry,”
“No, it’s my fault-” Yamamoto groans as Gokudera shoulders his weight. They limp across their kitchen, away from strewn clothes and broken furniture - the collateral damage of the vicious struggle that led them to the mounting in a claustrophobic corner of their living room.
“No, what could excuse me for doing what I did-” Gokudera opens the door to their bedroom; the hinges creak as Gokudera helps Yamamoto to sit gingerly on their bed. Gokudera stands to get antiseptic and bandages and his sun box, but Yamamoto clasps an arm around his waist.
“No, that was the best way,” Yamamoto says, pressing his cheek against Gokudera’s hip. “I know it and you know it because Tsuna- it was my fault and-” his voice breaks “and what would’ve happened if you’d, if you hadn’t - we would’ve slowly crumbled because there would always be this anger and guilt between us and we wouldn’t trust each other and I don’t want that, Hayato, I don’t because I love you and I’m so sorry.” Gokudera can feel Yamamoto’s sobs wracking his entire side, and there’s a lance of pain in his side that compels him to sit down. “I don’t want to lose you,” Yamamoto confesses. “I messed up, I know I did, but if we just forgive each other for everything that happened today- we can get past this.”
Gokudera holds Yamamoto. He thinks that maybe Yamamoto is right, maybe this precipitous disaster is better than a slow dissolution, but he knows that things are still going to change. After this, Yamamoto will never again indulge in their relationship, never put it before Tsuna - which is the way Gokudera has lived for a long time, but that didn’t mean it was happier than the alternative, only more practical. Gokudera knows that he’ll miss being first in Yamamoto’s eyes. But that’s okay. They’re men now, not boys, and the honeymoon period is over. As he comforts Yamamoto and heals his wounds, Gokudera starts planning the way he will pound the Barassi into dust.