Once more for the ages [December 7th] [Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto; 5927] [Reborn!]
Title :: Once more for the ages
Prompt :: December 7th, “did you find enlightenment in the Western Paradise?” [31_days]
Characters/Pairing :: Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Reborn; 5927 implied
Rating :: PG-13
Wordcount :: 1,177
Summary :: There are no travel books to prepare you for this kind of thing.
Notes :: Title snagged from Go Places by The New Pornographers. ♥
This was, he knew, going to be nothing short of a disaster.
“Reborn.” Mafiosos - even Mafiosos-to-be - did not whinge; but then, perhaps that was simply because they did not have that Vongola hyper-intuition caterwauling in their ears and all but screeching OH DEAR LORD RUN THE FUCK AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN. “You can’t possibly be serious about - okay, yes, you could; it’s you, after all. But you can’t possibly think that this is somehow a good idea.”
“And why not, silly Tsuna? You will be required to pay a visit to Italy sooner rather than later, and I was thoughtful enough to arrange your first trip for you. This way, you can simply consider it a relaxing vacation with your Rain and Storm Guardians, and when you inevitably make some sort of embarrassing social gaffe-”
“DON’T THINK I DON’T REMEMBER THE WHOLE MAFIA ISLAND FIASCO.”
“-no one need be the wiser,” Reborn finished smoothly, smirking up at him. “Rather than you bringing shame to your entire Famiglia on your first official visit, it’s better to get some training in beforehand, mm?”
“This is going to be exactly like Mafia Island,” Tsuna muttered wretchedly, and he was not particularly comforted when the hands fisted desperately in his hair were dislodged by the foot Reborn sent flying towards his head.
And when the day of their departure arrived, his right-hand man was really of no more help.
“Tenth?” Gokudera gave him a sideways glance, readjusting the bag slung over his shoulder and feeling beneath his shirt for his stash of dynamite all in one smooth move. “If you’re so certain that you don’t want to go, I can always - I can blow up the plane for you, Tenth! We’ll make it look like an accident, and even Reborn couldn’t blame you then!”
Tsuna stared.
“You shouldn’t underestimate yourself!” Gokudera continued loudly, lighting a cigarette and inching his fingers still closer to the explosives. “It could be your hyper-intuition talking, boss!”
As if I’d even need it right now, Tsuna bit his tongue to keep from saying, and then there was a familiar flash of red, and -
“GOKUDERA, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BLOW ANYTHING IN THIS AIRPORT-”
“Haha, it’s just a little lover’s spat!” Yamamoto interrupted, waving cheerfully to the rapidly approaching security guards, and Tsuna wanted to die.
But thankfully, at least, his resulting mortification made the boarding process itself a merciful blur - how they got through security with all of Gokudera’s dynamite and the fact Yamamoto insisted his sword was his carry-on, Tsuna would never know. Or, for that matter, want to know. (But if he had to guess, he’d bet money on Reborn.)
By the time they were settled into their seats - Yamamoto at the window, Gokudera at the aisle (“To watch for any threats to the Tenth!”), and Tsuna squashed in between - his blush had begun to recede, and he’d regained enough coherency to answer Yamamoto’s questions of Haha, have you flown before, Tsuna? and Oh, hey, when’re we getting back again? I forgot to tell my dad when I’d be home, haha, before Gokudera could lean over and answer them himself with a fist to the face.
It could, he supposed, be worse; and he did not want to think about how very likely it was that he would soon be proven right. Especially given the way that Gokudera was already threatening to throw Yamamoto out of said window.
Instead, he’d just take what little opportunities for rest he could.
While he still could.
And by the time he woke up, he had somehow managed to drape himself completely over Gokudera, leaning heavily against the other boy with his head flopped onto his shoulder. (He worried for a brief moment whether or not he had gotten drool on his shirt, but judging from the completely contented expression on Gokudera’s face, either he hadn’t or Gokudera just really did not care. Which was just as well; Tsuna still had bigger things to panic about, anyway.)
A quick glance to his left confirmed that, yes, Yamamoto was still quite alive and the plane was apparently still quite intact; and so Tsuna concluded that he must have unconsciously flung himself on Gokudera to keep him from causing any lasting damage, and filed this method away for future use. (He would, he decided, take awkward embarrassment over explosions any day.)
“Haha, sleep well, Tsuna?”
“I’m so sorry, Tenth - the baseball idiot wouldn’t fucking shut up the whole time you were resting, and I couldn’t hit him without disturbing you-”
“…just wake me up when we land,” Tsuna muttered in defeat, and buried his face back in Gokudera’s shoulder, closing his eyes.
He didn’t know how else to survive the rest of this flight with any shreds of his nerves intact.
And he should not have even bothered trying in the first place.
The next sound from his mouth was a decided yelp, because - where the goddamn hell was the plane, and why was he upside down? - and Tsuna’s heart hammered furiously in his chest, working far more quickly than his brain. Assassination attempt? Crazy best friend finally losing all patience and blowing the plane up for real? Reborn’s idea of a cheery Italian welcome?
And then it finally registered that he was somehow staring at said crazy best friend’s ass, and he squawked.
“Gokudera! I can walk; put me down!”
“But the Tenth looked so comfortable!” Gokudera responded cheerfully, still making his way through the airport with his boss slung over his shoulder. “I even made the baseball idiot carry all of our luggage so I wouldn’t have to wake you!”
“But I’m awake now,” Tsuna pointed out, trying valiantly to look at anything that was not Gokudera’s ass, “so you can let me down, Gokudera-kun. This really wasn’t necessary to begin wi-”
And then his feet were back on the ground before he could even finish the sentence, and he wasn’t sure he had ever seen his right-hand man smiling quite so broadly without looking like a complete maniac at the same time.
“Welcome to Italy, boss.”
The enthusiasm was infectious, and Tsuna couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, from opening his mouth to say, I can’t wait to see it with you or Thank you for being here with me, Gokudera-kun or even just I’ve always wanted to see the place where you grew up -
“Hahaha, so where’s that baseball stadium, you guys?”
Tsuna and Gokudera both turned to stare.
“What,” Gokudera gritted, “in the hell are you even talking about, moron?”
“The baseball stadium!” Yamamoto reiterated, hands still somehow managing to gesture wildly even when bogged down with the entirety of the luggage. “You know, that really big old one! Where they used to have the ancient Christians play or something, haha!”
And Tsuna could see the way Gokudera’s temple began throbbing as he made another grab for his bombs, and he just sighed, taking it as a sign of how the rest of their trip would go.
Prompt :: December 7th, “did you find enlightenment in the Western Paradise?” [31_days]
Characters/Pairing :: Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Reborn; 5927 implied
Rating :: PG-13
Wordcount :: 1,177
Summary :: There are no travel books to prepare you for this kind of thing.
Notes :: Title snagged from Go Places by The New Pornographers. ♥
This was, he knew, going to be nothing short of a disaster.
“Reborn.” Mafiosos - even Mafiosos-to-be - did not whinge; but then, perhaps that was simply because they did not have that Vongola hyper-intuition caterwauling in their ears and all but screeching OH DEAR LORD RUN THE FUCK AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN. “You can’t possibly be serious about - okay, yes, you could; it’s you, after all. But you can’t possibly think that this is somehow a good idea.”
“And why not, silly Tsuna? You will be required to pay a visit to Italy sooner rather than later, and I was thoughtful enough to arrange your first trip for you. This way, you can simply consider it a relaxing vacation with your Rain and Storm Guardians, and when you inevitably make some sort of embarrassing social gaffe-”
“DON’T THINK I DON’T REMEMBER THE WHOLE MAFIA ISLAND FIASCO.”
“-no one need be the wiser,” Reborn finished smoothly, smirking up at him. “Rather than you bringing shame to your entire Famiglia on your first official visit, it’s better to get some training in beforehand, mm?”
“This is going to be exactly like Mafia Island,” Tsuna muttered wretchedly, and he was not particularly comforted when the hands fisted desperately in his hair were dislodged by the foot Reborn sent flying towards his head.
And when the day of their departure arrived, his right-hand man was really of no more help.
“Tenth?” Gokudera gave him a sideways glance, readjusting the bag slung over his shoulder and feeling beneath his shirt for his stash of dynamite all in one smooth move. “If you’re so certain that you don’t want to go, I can always - I can blow up the plane for you, Tenth! We’ll make it look like an accident, and even Reborn couldn’t blame you then!”
Tsuna stared.
“You shouldn’t underestimate yourself!” Gokudera continued loudly, lighting a cigarette and inching his fingers still closer to the explosives. “It could be your hyper-intuition talking, boss!”
As if I’d even need it right now, Tsuna bit his tongue to keep from saying, and then there was a familiar flash of red, and -
“GOKUDERA, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BLOW ANYTHING IN THIS AIRPORT-”
“Haha, it’s just a little lover’s spat!” Yamamoto interrupted, waving cheerfully to the rapidly approaching security guards, and Tsuna wanted to die.
But thankfully, at least, his resulting mortification made the boarding process itself a merciful blur - how they got through security with all of Gokudera’s dynamite and the fact Yamamoto insisted his sword was his carry-on, Tsuna would never know. Or, for that matter, want to know. (But if he had to guess, he’d bet money on Reborn.)
By the time they were settled into their seats - Yamamoto at the window, Gokudera at the aisle (“To watch for any threats to the Tenth!”), and Tsuna squashed in between - his blush had begun to recede, and he’d regained enough coherency to answer Yamamoto’s questions of Haha, have you flown before, Tsuna? and Oh, hey, when’re we getting back again? I forgot to tell my dad when I’d be home, haha, before Gokudera could lean over and answer them himself with a fist to the face.
It could, he supposed, be worse; and he did not want to think about how very likely it was that he would soon be proven right. Especially given the way that Gokudera was already threatening to throw Yamamoto out of said window.
Instead, he’d just take what little opportunities for rest he could.
While he still could.
And by the time he woke up, he had somehow managed to drape himself completely over Gokudera, leaning heavily against the other boy with his head flopped onto his shoulder. (He worried for a brief moment whether or not he had gotten drool on his shirt, but judging from the completely contented expression on Gokudera’s face, either he hadn’t or Gokudera just really did not care. Which was just as well; Tsuna still had bigger things to panic about, anyway.)
A quick glance to his left confirmed that, yes, Yamamoto was still quite alive and the plane was apparently still quite intact; and so Tsuna concluded that he must have unconsciously flung himself on Gokudera to keep him from causing any lasting damage, and filed this method away for future use. (He would, he decided, take awkward embarrassment over explosions any day.)
“Haha, sleep well, Tsuna?”
“I’m so sorry, Tenth - the baseball idiot wouldn’t fucking shut up the whole time you were resting, and I couldn’t hit him without disturbing you-”
“…just wake me up when we land,” Tsuna muttered in defeat, and buried his face back in Gokudera’s shoulder, closing his eyes.
He didn’t know how else to survive the rest of this flight with any shreds of his nerves intact.
And he should not have even bothered trying in the first place.
The next sound from his mouth was a decided yelp, because - where the goddamn hell was the plane, and why was he upside down? - and Tsuna’s heart hammered furiously in his chest, working far more quickly than his brain. Assassination attempt? Crazy best friend finally losing all patience and blowing the plane up for real? Reborn’s idea of a cheery Italian welcome?
And then it finally registered that he was somehow staring at said crazy best friend’s ass, and he squawked.
“Gokudera! I can walk; put me down!”
“But the Tenth looked so comfortable!” Gokudera responded cheerfully, still making his way through the airport with his boss slung over his shoulder. “I even made the baseball idiot carry all of our luggage so I wouldn’t have to wake you!”
“But I’m awake now,” Tsuna pointed out, trying valiantly to look at anything that was not Gokudera’s ass, “so you can let me down, Gokudera-kun. This really wasn’t necessary to begin wi-”
And then his feet were back on the ground before he could even finish the sentence, and he wasn’t sure he had ever seen his right-hand man smiling quite so broadly without looking like a complete maniac at the same time.
“Welcome to Italy, boss.”
The enthusiasm was infectious, and Tsuna couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, from opening his mouth to say, I can’t wait to see it with you or Thank you for being here with me, Gokudera-kun or even just I’ve always wanted to see the place where you grew up -
“Hahaha, so where’s that baseball stadium, you guys?”
Tsuna and Gokudera both turned to stare.
“What,” Gokudera gritted, “in the hell are you even talking about, moron?”
“The baseball stadium!” Yamamoto reiterated, hands still somehow managing to gesture wildly even when bogged down with the entirety of the luggage. “You know, that really big old one! Where they used to have the ancient Christians play or something, haha!”
And Tsuna could see the way Gokudera’s temple began throbbing as he made another grab for his bombs, and he just sighed, taking it as a sign of how the rest of their trip would go.