(A/N~ I do not own Reborn. Purely. At All. If I did, then Yamamoto would NOT have been blasted by Kaoru. Trust me.)
(Monday Morning, 3:09 – 3:41)
The groan and creak of the mattress as Yamamoto got up from their double bed, followed by the soft shuffling of his feet across the hardwood floor roused Gokudera. The shriek of the door swinging on its hinges accompanied by the blinding yellow tinted light that poured into the room caused the roused Gokudera to flinch, and let loose a few brazen cusses as well as a pillow at the door's frame.
Hissing, he turned on his other side and glared at the light that was cast on the wall in a very door-shaped manner. Screwing his eyes shut in annoyance, Gokudera reached a hand out to grab his pack of cigarettes and his storm ring. Without opening his eyes, he pulled a cig out, ignited his ring, scowled at the distant crashes heard from the kitchen, lit the cigarette, and slapped the ring and pack back on the night stand.
He shifted into a sitting position and took a drag, then smoothed his tangled hair back as he exhaled the heady smoke. He sat and dragged and exhaled for quite awhile before the sound of Yamamoto's feet scraping against the ground greeted him again.
"You couldn't fucking turn the light off?" he shot at the other around a cloud of smoke. The door slammed shut and the almost comically slow shuffling started up once again. The bed squeaked and tilted Gokudera slightly as Yamamoto sat down, irritating him more. "What the hell were you even doing?" he growled.
"Toast." Yamamoto mumbled tiredly, and then the crunch of his chosen midnight snack (as well as the crumbs now scattered across the bed) hit Gokudera's nerves.
"Seriously?" he exclaimed, shoving at the other. "You'll get crumbs everywhere! Why the hell are you eating NOW, you had salmon! You've neve…" he was cut off as a piece of dry, crisp, burnt toast hit his face. "…What."
"If you can smoke, I can eat toast." Yamamoto mumbled through his mouthful.
Gokudera's jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed. "Bullshit." He grabbed blindly for Yamamoto and shoved the lit butt of the cigarette against his skin. The sharp yelp he raised made him smirk triumphantly.
"I-it was just toast…" the muffled speech of Yamamoto's wounded pride made Gokudera's smirk grow two times larger. "You didn't need to burn my cheek…" Gokudera's face dropped.
"…Sorry," he muttered as he turned over to deposit the toast in the trash, and after a moment's thought, to extinguish the cig in the ashtray next to the pack. Without another word, he settled beneath the covers. He waited for the shift of the mattress that signified that Yamamoto had lain down, but it didn't come. Gokudera sighed heavily. "What now?"
A few seconds of silence passed before the other responded, "… Toast, Hayato."
"It's in the trash can." Gokudera kept himself from grabbing said trash can and shoving Yamamoto's head into it so he could go toast bobbing.
"What?" came the broken reply. "But, but…"
"Eat your freaking toast tomorrow, idiot."
(And so it begins~)