Firmament [November 12th] [802759] [Reborn!]
Title :: Firmament
Prompt :: November 12th, “back ally (with allies).” [31_days]
Pairing :: 802759
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 566
Summary :: Breathe. Not Calm down; not It’s all right; not even None of this was your fault. Just the unspoken, implied: We’re all still here, and we’ll help you shoulder the weight.
“Hey, hey, Tsuna, breathe. C’mon, just breathe.”
The words seemed more a condemnation than a comfort, yet more sinking guilt in his gut for him to try and dry-heave upwards - you’re still breathing, and just look at how many aren’t - but he tried to listen. Tried to forget that he was reduced to vomiting helplessly in a dirty back alley while his Rain Guardian held onto him from behind and murmured reassurances into his hair; tried to focus on just the fact that he was being held and wasn’t alone.
“I’ve got you. We’re all okay, so breathe.”
Breathe. Not Calm down; not It’s all right; not even None of this was your fault.
Just the unspoken, implied: We’re all still here, and we’ll help you shoulder the weight.
And it made Tsuna hear.
He didn’t step away from Yamamoto even when the retching finally subsided, wiping at his mouth with the back of one shaky hand and the other coming up to rub against his eyes.
He didn’t suppose that any of this was very dignified, let alone befitting a future Mafioso, but right then he couldn’t bring himself to care or attempt to hide behind any excuses or pretenses.
Not when it was Yamamoto here with him, and not when he knew already that Gokudera would be the first one to come charging in to find them.
He simply leaned back into that broader chest and tried to let that familiar scent of sweat and earth and rain-kissed woods wash away the cloying reek of blood.
He knew, too, the very instant that Gokudera did find them, even with his eyes closed, immediately latched onto those heavy footfalls and the slight clinking of rings and chains - and knew that Yamamoto felt the way he relaxed against him, nearly smiled at the way he was squeezed tighter in response.
And he knew the moment that Gokudera opened his mouth to yell (Tenth! Are you all right? Oi, you bastard, get your hands off of him, what do you think you’re doing-) and cut him off by blinking open his own eyes to meet his.
“Gokudera-kun.”
It was nothing more than a scratchy breath, nothing more than his name, but it made the corners of Tsuna’s lips turn up just slightly as it left them, and Gokudera stopped.
“Tenth?”
“I’m glad you’re here, Gokudera-kun.”
Tsuna touched Yamamoto once, lightly, on the wrist with his fingertips, and Yamamoto let go and backed away with an instant grin of understanding.
And then Tsuna flung himself forward and his own arms around his right-hand man.
“Really glad.”
Gokudera was ramrod-straight and achingly still, hands hovering and unsure of reaching out; and Tsuna leaned into him anyway, arms twining around his waist and trusting him to keep them both upright.
“You were worried about him too, and you know it,” Yamamoto murmured, coming up to rest one hand on the Storm Guardian’s shoulder and using the other to gently ruffle Tsuna’s hair. “Just go with it, Gokudera.”
And Tsuna’s sigh was muffled into his shoulder when Gokudera’s hands fisted into his shirt and clung, followed by Yamamoto’s arms sliding around the both of them a heartbeat later.
Gokudera’s hand fit neatly against Tsuna’s right, Yamamoto’s his left, rings and X-Gloves and warmth, and the feel of their pulses reminded him of the in and out and in of air.
Prompt :: November 12th, “back ally (with allies).” [31_days]
Pairing :: 802759
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 566
Summary :: Breathe. Not Calm down; not It’s all right; not even None of this was your fault. Just the unspoken, implied: We’re all still here, and we’ll help you shoulder the weight.
“Hey, hey, Tsuna, breathe. C’mon, just breathe.”
The words seemed more a condemnation than a comfort, yet more sinking guilt in his gut for him to try and dry-heave upwards - you’re still breathing, and just look at how many aren’t - but he tried to listen. Tried to forget that he was reduced to vomiting helplessly in a dirty back alley while his Rain Guardian held onto him from behind and murmured reassurances into his hair; tried to focus on just the fact that he was being held and wasn’t alone.
“I’ve got you. We’re all okay, so breathe.”
Breathe. Not Calm down; not It’s all right; not even None of this was your fault.
Just the unspoken, implied: We’re all still here, and we’ll help you shoulder the weight.
And it made Tsuna hear.
He didn’t step away from Yamamoto even when the retching finally subsided, wiping at his mouth with the back of one shaky hand and the other coming up to rub against his eyes.
He didn’t suppose that any of this was very dignified, let alone befitting a future Mafioso, but right then he couldn’t bring himself to care or attempt to hide behind any excuses or pretenses.
Not when it was Yamamoto here with him, and not when he knew already that Gokudera would be the first one to come charging in to find them.
He simply leaned back into that broader chest and tried to let that familiar scent of sweat and earth and rain-kissed woods wash away the cloying reek of blood.
He knew, too, the very instant that Gokudera did find them, even with his eyes closed, immediately latched onto those heavy footfalls and the slight clinking of rings and chains - and knew that Yamamoto felt the way he relaxed against him, nearly smiled at the way he was squeezed tighter in response.
And he knew the moment that Gokudera opened his mouth to yell (Tenth! Are you all right? Oi, you bastard, get your hands off of him, what do you think you’re doing-) and cut him off by blinking open his own eyes to meet his.
“Gokudera-kun.”
It was nothing more than a scratchy breath, nothing more than his name, but it made the corners of Tsuna’s lips turn up just slightly as it left them, and Gokudera stopped.
“Tenth?”
“I’m glad you’re here, Gokudera-kun.”
Tsuna touched Yamamoto once, lightly, on the wrist with his fingertips, and Yamamoto let go and backed away with an instant grin of understanding.
And then Tsuna flung himself forward and his own arms around his right-hand man.
“Really glad.”
Gokudera was ramrod-straight and achingly still, hands hovering and unsure of reaching out; and Tsuna leaned into him anyway, arms twining around his waist and trusting him to keep them both upright.
“You were worried about him too, and you know it,” Yamamoto murmured, coming up to rest one hand on the Storm Guardian’s shoulder and using the other to gently ruffle Tsuna’s hair. “Just go with it, Gokudera.”
And Tsuna’s sigh was muffled into his shoulder when Gokudera’s hands fisted into his shirt and clung, followed by Yamamoto’s arms sliding around the both of them a heartbeat later.
Gokudera’s hand fit neatly against Tsuna’s right, Yamamoto’s his left, rings and X-Gloves and warmth, and the feel of their pulses reminded him of the in and out and in of air.