Kiss Me!

Yamamoto doesn't realize he has a problem when he turns left around Namimori Middle School, not right like he usually does, and finds Gokudera laying on his back in the sun, sleeping. He's about three long meters away, dim skin darkening as clouds roll over the lurid light, and a heavy frown on his dissatisfied face. Both his hands are clenched over his stomach, fading up with every breath and down with the lack of one, over and over and Yamamoto keeps staring, even though nothing's changing. Gokudera's hair yanks randomly through the wind, his shoulders twitching as air bites around him — and then the sun breaks through the clouds. And then Yamamoto's hit with the utter reality that Gokudera isn't sleeping at all.

His stomach is bloody, red fingers trying to hide the wound, but it's effusing and pouring with every intake to his lungs; Yamamoto feels his chest pound. He could guess at what had happened, since Tsuna isn't exactly the most beloved student at Namimori and Gokudera is definitely a bit stingy when it comes to their friend, but he wishes it wouldn't happen. Because for Yamamoto, the unfortunately unforgettable fact that Gokudera is willing to blindly reach to the end of his life just to save Tsuna from a few insults that he won't even ever hear is slowly, contingently, and tirelessly making him fall in love. Not that Yamamoto knows this is happening, and even if he maybe king of does, he's happy to laugh about it and ignore Gokudera's consistently alluring devotion to the family, because it's easier that way.

However, for all his thinking, Yamamoto still doesn't realize he's got a problem when his feet start gliding towards Gokudera, wondering if he's alright and why no one else had noticed him there, limp on the pavement. He stares and stares and stares, not sure how enjoyable he would be if woken from his sleep to find a stupid "baseball-freak" looming over him.

But Gokudera sits up and rubs his eyes, much to Yamamoto's heatopressed brain's pleasure.

He's glaring, but mostly because of the afternoon sun. He looks up and down, seeming thoroughly haggard and frustrated with his state of near uselessness — and annoyed that Yamamoto had to find him of all people. That he had to be the one to find Gokudera Hayato perfectly beaten up, utterly failing The Tenth where he lies.

He pushes a broken hand over his stomach as he stands up, back creaking and crying for a warm bed, some coffee, anything besides the midair it's met with. Gokudera looks at the ground, a bit ashamed but more embarrassed because Yamamoto won't stop staring at him. He's looking at him like he's just risen from the dead or something, and Gokudera's never quite been able to relax with those two big brown eyes on him. He can't breathe very well either, though he doubts that has anything to do with the stupid baseball-freak gawking at his busted torso. It probably, hopefully, has more to do with his busted torso.

Gokudera looks up, away from Yamamoto and his voice breaks when he speaks. "Wh... what the fuck do you want?"

Yamamoto just smiles and invites him over for dinner.

Being catered to, he knows, is not something Gokudera takes well. In fact, the generous amount of hate that the other guardian sends through his tired eyes at Yamamoto when he asks, What do you want for supper? almost halts his blood, which, he has learned, is only something Gokudera can do.

However, he lets his light laugh return the glare and scratches the back if his neck. "Can you even eat anything?"

Gokudera liberates one of Yamamoto's pillows from his couch to his face.

Yamamoto, however, ducks and walks further into the living room, grinning. "Missed me."

Gokudera begins to sit up in hope of more thoroughly directing his negative esteem at the idiot, but his bruised ribs ache as he rises. Yamamoto's hands reach for his sides but Gokudera, being far too manly and not in anyway yearning for a certain someone's fingers on his skin, shoves his touch away. Then, disregarding his own thoughts as well as torso, he lifts himself off the couch.

"I'm going home."

"No." Yamamoto grabs Gokudera's hand as he heads for the door.

Gokudera turns to face him, eyes dark. "What? Don't tell me—"

Yamamoto places a warm hand over Gokudera's lips, smiling. "It's just... you missed me, so, you know..."

Pushing it away, Gokudera crosses his arms, glaring. "No, I don't know, you fucking idiot."

"Well, now you've..." Then Yamamoto gets closer, hands wrapping around Gokudera's back, light and careful because he's broken. His dark eyes get darker, fingers pressing softly and lips disregarding any concept of personal space. Gokudera lets his eyes fall shut, figuring he can blame it all on having the snot beat out of him later or something, but still he could just murder the bastard when his heart jumps as Yamamoto kisses him, firmly.

Backing off slow, still holding Gokudera, he grins and says, "...gotta kiss me."

Then Yamamoto feels a tight fist introduce itself to his right cheek, and falls onto his ass. The last thing he sees before blacking out is Gokudera's face, red and ready to kill him.

But at least it's not his back.

Get it get it?

山本武 is a dork.

マル。