Everytime We Touch
A Yama/Goku Fic
That damn baseball idiot!
How dare he kiss me in public? In front of the boss nonetheless.
Silver haired bomber sighed as he sat down on his bed. He grunted angrily at the memory. Sure he liked the guy, hell you could even say Gokudera loved him. But Takeshi was pushing his luck pulling stunts like that.
He laid down and closed his eyes. He sighed at his situation. He knew Takeshi would not be joining him tonight. The baseball star knew well enough that if Hayato was pissed, you stay away at all costs.
Gokudera turned on his side holding Yamamoto's pillow close to himself.
"Damnit…" he muttered. He didn't WANT to be mad at Takeshi, but when he pulls stunts like that in public, he can't help himself.
"I'm sorry, Hayato" he heard but a ghost of a whisper. Since Hayato was such a short fuse, it was a constant phrase uttered from Takeshi's thin pale lips. He never wanted Hayato to be upset, so he always voiced on apology. An apology in a husky voice. So dark and serious, but full of truth and kindness. It was hard to stay mad at that dance.
Then, he traced a mark on his neck. A mark made from passion. Made from love. He's reminded of the fingers running across his skin the night before. The fingers that conduct cold shocks into his body, rousing him. The fingers that while giving him pleasure also provided him with comfort and safety.
Then he is reminded of the thin lips that he blamed for this entire mess. Even though he blamed them, he still loved them to no end: Those long lips that made him happy each time he felt them against his own. He feels his heart stop beating, and he could care less. He could have died for all he cared, at least he would have died for all he cared. At least he died happily.
He smiles gently, looking out the window, and hugs the pillow tighter, breathing in the scent of sweat and cologne. There was a difference though. There was no warmth, warmth that normally surrounded him. The pillow was no match for Takeshi's chest and arms.
Now, Hayato was stone most of the time, rarely showing any emotion. But, after Bianchi's told him the truth about his parent's, his shell was shattered, and he had needed reliance every now and again. Takeshi was the one who provided this for him. He would always know when Hayato was on the verge of a breakdown. He would wordlessly hug him tightly, and pat his back. When Hayato quieted down, he would reassure him that he would always kiss his tears away and always be there for him.
He smiled. He always did feel safest in Takeshi's arms. They were his castle walls, protecting the king from the enemy.
So why was the castle not protecting its king? Because the king is an over-sensitive douche and left the castle, venturing into the battlefield.
He thought back to everything the two of them did together. Good or bad, Takeshi was always there to support him, no matter what, and as much as he hated to admit it, some of his happiest times were with Takeshi.
He can't let this go on any longer. He got up off his bed, and put on his jacket. He opened the front door, and came face to face with a knuckle.
"Hayato!"the man cried just as he stopped his fist.
Hayato froze, and let out a breath of relief, trying to calm his racing heart. "Takeshi, you startled me. What are you doing here?" he said meekly.
"I'm sorry I embarrassed you, Hayato." He said, scratching his cheek, blushing.
He couldn't stay mad at a face like that, could he? He smiled and hugged the taller man.
"It's fine."
"No seriously Hayato." He paused. "I had no right to do that to you without your permission. I'm just so so-" he was cut off.
Hayato held his kiss, his mind racing. Yup, he could still feel the sparks. Wonderful, wonderful sparks.
Bullshit ending much? XD Anyway, thanks for reading and review :P