[KHR;meme] retaliation for playing favourites
Gokudera Hayato, Yamamoto Takeshi
For KHR Kink Meme, prompt: Yamamoto/Gokudera. Blow job Handjob while playing the piano. =D Rated Adult situations.
"You'd play for him, but not me?" Yamamoto said, low into Gokudera's ear. The pianist shuddered at the sudden warm puff of air and shot Yamamoto a dirty look, but his fingers continued to fly over the keys, sure and confident over the notes despite the purported lack of practice. The seat was far too small to accomodate the both of them comfortably, but Yamamoto squeezed in anyway, content simply with being close.
Gokudera didn't like it. This performance was meant to be private, for the Tenth sitting across the both of them, eyes closed, dutifully obeying Gokudera's suggestion that it was better to experience the music in that manner. He had seen Yamamoto slink in, silently, and had been completely helpless in stopping the other man from doing as he liked.
"You're not Tenth," Gokudera retorted quietly. He jerked when Yamamoto's arm snaked around his waist, hand resting on his thigh, but he continued to play steadily, even though his fingers were trembling a little, now. "Fuck off, I'm playing."
"You're very good," Yamamoto murmured instead, close, too close for Gokudera's comfort. But before he could try to shove the other man off the seat with his hip, Yamamoto's grasp suddenly tightened, fingers slipping into the waistband of his pants.
He should be used to it, but Yamamato's rough and callused hand on his skin was always a shock at first touch, and this was no exception. In ordinary situations he would have bombed Yamamoto's hand off, after all, Squalo managed to claw himself into the Varia on one hand. Since the baseball idiot was so keen on following the Italian shark's footsteps, well, Gokudera was more than happy to indulge that particular want.
But jerking away from Yamamoto's hand down his pants involved standing up and stopping the music, and in turn spoiling the Tenth's enjoyment. Tsuna's eyes were still closed despite the minor ruckus going on, but the frown line that had been decorating his forehead of late was gone, and really, Gokudera wanted to keep it that way. For a few more minutes, at least.
However, it seemed that the baseball idiot had other ideas, what with his hand curling warmly around him, trying to distract him. It also didn't help that his body was responding to the stimulus, or that Yamamoto was even closer now, body pressing against his own. The deliberate elbow-to-side (Gokudera could hardly spare breath at that point) barely phased the rain guardian, who patiently drew out the desired reaction.
It was, perhaps, a testament to Gokudera's skill that the music continued on relatively smoothly, even as he squirmed in Yamamoto's grip, eyes clenched shut. However, Yamamoto was surprised when the pianist came unexpectedly with just a soft gasp, notes getting a tad bit louder at that juncture. He also got a venomous glare for his efforts and a hissed, "Clean me up," before Gokudera turned his focus back to the piano.
By the time the piece ended, Gokudera had his clothes set back to rights, and he got up from his seat, brushing off Yamamoto's arm. Tsuna's eyes were still closed, and Gokudera approached his boss almost cautiously.
"Tenth?"
Tsuna's eyes sprung open when Gokudera placed a hand on his shoulder lightly, and he jerked forwards before realizing where he was. "Oh, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said. "I'm sorry, I-I must have fallen asleep."
Had it been anyone else, Gokudera might have thrown a fit. But then again, Tsuna had always been the only audience he would have played for. "It's alright," he replied feelingly, just glad that Tenth could have rested. He reached out to grasp Tsuna's arm as the Vongola boss stood up groggily.
"Oh, hi, Yamamoto. Did you come to listen?"
"Hi, Tsuna," Yamamoto greeted. "Yes, it was very good."
For KHR Kink Meme, prompt: Yamamoto/Gokudera. Blow job Handjob while playing the piano. =D Rated Adult situations.
"You'd play for him, but not me?" Yamamoto said, low into Gokudera's ear. The pianist shuddered at the sudden warm puff of air and shot Yamamoto a dirty look, but his fingers continued to fly over the keys, sure and confident over the notes despite the purported lack of practice. The seat was far too small to accomodate the both of them comfortably, but Yamamoto squeezed in anyway, content simply with being close.
Gokudera didn't like it. This performance was meant to be private, for the Tenth sitting across the both of them, eyes closed, dutifully obeying Gokudera's suggestion that it was better to experience the music in that manner. He had seen Yamamoto slink in, silently, and had been completely helpless in stopping the other man from doing as he liked.
"You're not Tenth," Gokudera retorted quietly. He jerked when Yamamoto's arm snaked around his waist, hand resting on his thigh, but he continued to play steadily, even though his fingers were trembling a little, now. "Fuck off, I'm playing."
"You're very good," Yamamoto murmured instead, close, too close for Gokudera's comfort. But before he could try to shove the other man off the seat with his hip, Yamamoto's grasp suddenly tightened, fingers slipping into the waistband of his pants.
He should be used to it, but Yamamato's rough and callused hand on his skin was always a shock at first touch, and this was no exception. In ordinary situations he would have bombed Yamamoto's hand off, after all, Squalo managed to claw himself into the Varia on one hand. Since the baseball idiot was so keen on following the Italian shark's footsteps, well, Gokudera was more than happy to indulge that particular want.
But jerking away from Yamamoto's hand down his pants involved standing up and stopping the music, and in turn spoiling the Tenth's enjoyment. Tsuna's eyes were still closed despite the minor ruckus going on, but the frown line that had been decorating his forehead of late was gone, and really, Gokudera wanted to keep it that way. For a few more minutes, at least.
However, it seemed that the baseball idiot had other ideas, what with his hand curling warmly around him, trying to distract him. It also didn't help that his body was responding to the stimulus, or that Yamamoto was even closer now, body pressing against his own. The deliberate elbow-to-side (Gokudera could hardly spare breath at that point) barely phased the rain guardian, who patiently drew out the desired reaction.
It was, perhaps, a testament to Gokudera's skill that the music continued on relatively smoothly, even as he squirmed in Yamamoto's grip, eyes clenched shut. However, Yamamoto was surprised when the pianist came unexpectedly with just a soft gasp, notes getting a tad bit louder at that juncture. He also got a venomous glare for his efforts and a hissed, "Clean me up," before Gokudera turned his focus back to the piano.
By the time the piece ended, Gokudera had his clothes set back to rights, and he got up from his seat, brushing off Yamamoto's arm. Tsuna's eyes were still closed, and Gokudera approached his boss almost cautiously.
"Tenth?"
Tsuna's eyes sprung open when Gokudera placed a hand on his shoulder lightly, and he jerked forwards before realizing where he was. "Oh, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna said. "I'm sorry, I-I must have fallen asleep."
Had it been anyone else, Gokudera might have thrown a fit. But then again, Tsuna had always been the only audience he would have played for. "It's alright," he replied feelingly, just glad that Tenth could have rested. He reached out to grasp Tsuna's arm as the Vongola boss stood up groggily.
"Oh, hi, Yamamoto. Did you come to listen?"
"Hi, Tsuna," Yamamoto greeted. "Yes, it was very good."