Senseless Dreams
By Raenef
Written for Cyrene
Leaning comfortably against the wall, his belly crammed full of raw fish and sake, Gokudera decided that-yes, parties could be exceptionally enjoyable. Even if they were hosted at Yamamoto's modest house.
He took a lazy sip from his cup, eyes slowly roaming across the rather roomy interior of the living room and over the laughing faces of his friends, all rosier than when they first arrived. The stylish table of polished wood, laden down with mountains of platters, had been under full-scale attack for a steady hour from twelve pairs of eager hands. Gokudera reached up for another piece of sushi and popped it into his mouth, absentmindedly admiring the elegant paintings hanging from the creamy walls. The smooth surfaces gave way to two doors-one of which stood ajar, revealing a section of the stove in the kitchen, while the other remained tightly closed. Probably a closet, Gokudera observed. Just to his left was a set of stairs spiraling upwards to the second floor. The hallway located to his far right no doubt led to the front door and the bitter cold of autumn winds whirling outside.
But no matter. Gokudera was contently soaking in the cheerful warmth flooding the house…and drowning. His vision was blurring slightly and his chin periodically bumped against his chest from fatigue. He struggled to remain awake, tilting his head back to rest against the wall behind him and idly watching the amiable banter between the others.
His beloved Juudaime was engaged in heated conversation with Kyoko, their heads bent together, eyes slightly glossy from the intoxicating sweetness of the atmosphere. Rapid gestures were made, accompanied by the occasional giggle from Kyoko. Haru, who Gokudera guessed to have been part of the chatter moments earlier, was slumped against the table fast asleep. Gokudera managed a weak grin. Good to know he wasn't the only one falling out of consciousness.
His eyes continued past the ever-energetic forms of baby Lambo and I-Pin, duking it out over the last chunk of fat tuna, and roved over the huddled bodies of Dino and Hibari in a corner across the room. He would have felt surprised at the proximity between the two, but the alcohol inside him was kissing his senses into blissful oblivion. The fact that the pair appeared to be sharing murmurs across their joined shoulders no longer seemed quite as alarming as it should have.
Gokudera couldn't say the same for his reaction to Yamamoto, however. When his half-lidded eyes fell on the laughing face, tinted a soft pink and tilted towards Ryohei (who was roaring with laughter as well), he felt something clench in his chest. But whether out of anger or (was it possible?) a hint of jealousy, he could not quite decide. He confessed to prefer the former though.
A soft ring of the doorbell sounded down the hall, and Yamamoto's father could be heard tromping down to the front door.
Gokudera brought his cup to his lips again and drank deeply, choking a little on the fiery liquid. He coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes never leaving Yamamoto's body. He detested the man, even hated him. Whenever in his presence, Gokudera always found himself thoroughly irritated beyond belief by the baseball fool's idiocy. He could not understand, for the life of him, why his Juudaime tolerated Yamamoto to any degree. But then again, didn't he himself tolerate the fool as well? Of course he couldn't go against the wishes of his Juudaime, but there was something more…
Out in the hall, faint voices could be heard greeting each other.
Gokudera grimaced and let his head loll against his shoulder. It didn't make any sense. He was positive he loathed the man to pieces, yet he repeatedly found himself gravitating towards the stupid sod. How did that work? Without Gokudera even being fully aware of it, the man had somehow managed to forge a path into his life. Everywhere he went, everything he did, Yamamoto was always there or somewhere nearby. And it wasn't just his physical presence that bothered Gokudera so much either…
Footsteps, gradually becoming louder, traveled down the hall and back towards the living room.
It was that attitude of his. That face. That damn smile. Always present, always mocking him because he couldn't understand how a man could be so happy.
Gokudera gave a sudden hiccup, the alcohol in his bloodstream numbing his body. His cup slipped from his hand.
Didn't life ever get him down too? Gokudera was only all too familiar with that particular experience. Everyone was. So what in the hell was wrong with Yamamoto? That smile…that bright, jovial, golden smile and that good-natured attitude just about drove Gokudera insane…
"Hayato."
Gokudera stirred from the wall. He had nodded off without realizing.
"Hayato, are you awake?"
Gokudera gave a grumble and turned, to his later immense regret and horror, to look up into the inquisitive face of none other than Bianchi.
He jaw fell open, but no sound came out. He felt the muscles in his stomach twist themselves into a tight knot and his vision began to blur at the sight of his older sister.
"G-Guh.."
Gokudera collapsed unceremoniously to the floor, clutching desperately at his midriff.
"Hayato, what's wrong?!"
Bianchi bent down to Gokudera's level and tried to peer into his rapidly paling face. It was all Gokudera could do to turn the other way. In his mind, he was screaming for Bianchi to go away.
"Hayato! Did you eat something that upset your stomach? Answer me!"
The mixture of rice, raw fish, and alcohol gurgled and churned within Gokudera's stomach in protest, clamoring angrily against the walls of the poor organ. Gokudera squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to whatever listening deity for deliverance.
And it was deliverance he got.
"He must have drunk too much sake." A new voice sounded over his head. "I'll help him to the bathroom; he'll be feeling much better in no time."
A pair of strong hands pulled Gokudera's body into a standing position. Being too weak to object, he allowed his arm to be draped over a sturdy shoulder and the arm of his savior to wrap around his waist.
"Careful, now." The voice warned as Gokudera felt his feet bump into the first step of the stairs. Groggily, he forced one leg up then another, all the while leaning heavily against the hard chest under him for support.
"That's right, we're nearly there." The voice encouraged, shifting his weight to make Gokudera more comfortable. But an unsteady step suddenly brought him to his knees. Gokudera would have rolled back down the stairs if it weren't for the pair of strong arms grabbing onto him. He tried to straighten up, but the pain in his stomach was too much, causing him to slouch back down. It seemed to take an incredible amount of strength for Gokudera to raise his eyes, seeking for the end of his perilous journey. But his vision swam before him, to his dismay, and the stairs appeared to sway back and forth…he couldn't even so much as tell apart each stair from the next. Gokudera groaned.
The voice made a "tut-tut" sound and one hand released Gokudera's arm only to reappear under the crook of his knees, sweeping the silver-haired boy up into the air. Gokudera opened his mouth to protest, but upon feeling his stomach give a particularly violent lurch, he clamped his lips together and grudgingly rested his head on the firm chest as the owner of said chest easily carried him up the rest of the stairs, through the hall, and into the bathroom.
He was gingerly set down before the toilet and handed a wad of tissues. A soft thump told Gokudera that his savior had plopped down beside him on the cold, bathroom floor. At this point, Gokudera was dying to know who the person sitting next to him was, but he was already having enough of a battle remaining upright. He decided that it would be best until the stomach pains subsided.
And thus, Gokudera stared into the bowl, focusing every last ounce of power into willing himself not to puke. He jumped when he felt a hand traveling down his spine, rubbing his back in soothing circles.
"You know, it's okay to let it all up."
Gokudera bit down on his lip to prevent precisely that from happening. He will not allow himself to gracelessly throw up his insides in the presence of another. It was a shame he absolutely refused to live with. Gokudera gripped the edges of the bowl between his fingers until his knuckles turned a ghastly white and waited and prayed. After the passage of a good twenty minutes, he finally felt the effects of looking upon his sister's face begin to subside, though it did leave his stomach rather queasy.
Gokudera lifted his eyes to identify his savior and almost immediately cursed himself for doing so. Hot shame burned across his cheeks as he quickly looked back down into the clear pool of water at the bottom of the bowl, feeling his vision blur once more from his rapid movements. His faint reflection glared back, sporting a deeply wounded expression barely masked by anger.
That stupid, stupid moron. Gokudera's eyebrows knit together furiously. Of all the people, why did it have to be him? Why did he have to be the one to lend help when Gokudera was at his most vulnerable moment? He hated him; hated him with every fiber of his being; hated him enough to want to dunk the moron's face into the toilet bowl-
"Gokudera?"
Kneeling beside his charge, Yamamoto ceased his rubbing when Gokudera's body stopped convulsing. He brushed back the silver hair covering the other's face and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding when he saw that, though Gokudera was wearing a look of sheer contempt, he was at least no longer in pain. Yamamoto's face, lightly flushed from the alcohol, broke into a wide grin. Oblivious to Gokudera's raging feelings, Yamamoto beamed at him and gave him a gentle pat.
"See? All better." He laughed, black eyes sparkling. "And here I was, thinking it might actually be something serious."
Gokudera suspected that a vein in his forehead may have popped.
Without thinking, without hesitating, the silver-haired boy curled his hand into a fist and brought it full force into Yamamoto's jaw.
Takeshi Yamamoto was blown back by the unexpected punch, utterly bewildered by the sudden rage emanating like heat waves off Gokudera's shivering body.
"What's wrong, Gokudera?" He queried, a hand rubbing the spot where the other man's knuckles collided with his jaw-bone.
"YOU!" Gokudera shouted, lunging at him and burying his hands into Yamamoto's shirtfront.
"YOU'RE what's wrong! YOU! It's always YOU!" He shouted, shaking Yamamoto roughly by his collar. "I'm crouching here about to retch and pour the contents of my innards into that toilet and you're simply sitting here, amused by my pain!"
"I was concerned for you." Yamamoto replied, reaching up to gently touch Gokudera's trembling hands in assurance.
The silver-haired boy shoved him away.
"And that's not even close to the whole story!" He ground out between his tightly clenched teeth. "I hate you. I hate that attitude of yours. That detestable smile! Always pasted across that face of yours, mocking me, taunting me, frustrating me to the brink of madness!"
"Tell me," Gokudera suddenly hissed, "how can you be so happy? Don't you see what's going on around you? What you've become involved in? How can you be happy? It's as if you're untouchable; wholly free from the grasp of life's dilemmas, no matter how bad. It frustrates me because I can't understand and…and…"
Gokudera swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He fought the nauseating effects of the sake, but he could feel it lull his mind into a stupor.
"And it's a happiness I wish I could have." He finished quietly, voice breaking on the last word.
Yamamoto lifted his hand once more to brush the wild locks that had fallen loose and formed a silver halo around Gokudera's face behind his ear.
"What is happiness to you?" He smiled gently, fingertips tracing the cheekbone of Gokudera's flushed face.
"What?" The other man muttered, finally looking up, baffled by the question.
"What will make you happy?"
"Cracking open that stupid head of yours and seeing just what goes on in that mind." Gokudera muttered to the side, no longer caring for consequences.
Yamamoto chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's not nearly as fascinating as you might imagine it to be, trust me." He grinned, "When you discover that most of the thoughts revolve around you, I promise you'll find my mind to be as dull as a cabbage. I, on the other hand, will beg to differ."
Gokudera's head snapped up with a look of complete confusion and he opened his mouth to speak, but Yamamoto held up a hand and stopped him.
"You know, you frustrate me as well." He continued good-naturedly, "Even if you're not necessarily friendly, you're at least civil towards everyone else. But you always seem to grow barbs when you're around me, shunning me or cutting me down. Yet I don't mind at all, because I know I at least have your attention. It shows that I'm still important, even if it's not in the manner I'd prefer it to be."
Yamamoto cupped Gokudera's cheeks in his warm palms. "That's my happiness. You. You're my happiness."
"Me…" Gokudera breathed, finding it hard to believe his ears. Everything was beginning to turn hazy, colors melding together like his drunken senses. "Your happiness…"
"That's right."
"I want to understand…that happiness."
Gokudera lowered his head, drawing closer to Yamamoto with his seductively half-lidded eyes and glowing cheeks.
"I want to feel that happiness too…"
Then two became one. Yamamoto didn't wait for him, but rather reached up and caught Gokudera's lips with his own. He reached around to the back of the silver head and pulled him down, forcing the lovely mouth open and deepening the kiss, tasting the sweet cavern within. Both their tongues were met by the overwhelming scent of sake, but they pressed harder against each other, searching for what was hidden under that mind-numbing mist.
Gokudera leaned fiercely into the kiss, pressing Yamamoto's back into the bathroom wall with a thud and sliding up his legs until he was straddling the dark-haired boy's hips. His hands, still clutching the fabric of Yamamoto's white, button-up shirt, tightened and yanked outwards, viciously ripping apart the cloth.
Yamamoto gave a low, feral growl deep in his throat and, clutching Gokudera's smooth, milky hips, ground their aching needs together and successfully elicited a sharp gasp from the silver-haired beauty.
Gokudera threw back his head at the pleasurable friction being applied between his legs and gave a heady moan. Yamamoto snatched the opportunity to yank up Gokudera's thin tank-top and sink his teeth into the creamy flesh of his chest and stomach. Angry, red, love-bites blossomed like ecstatic flowers across the pale skin to the barely restrained cries of the silver-haired boy. As he lowered his head, Yamamoto attached his questing teeth to the sensitive flesh where Gokudera's neck met his shoulder, sucking hungrily and alternately licking the soft skin.
Gokudera's continuous thrusts against Yamamoto's hips prompted the other man to fumble for the buckle of his belt, pulling it open with an unforeseen ardent desire. His partner wasn't about to be beat either, as his hands yanked open the torn, white shirt the rest of the way and began roaming across the lightly tanned skin of Yamamoto's sturdy chest.
"N-Need…to get…pants…" Gokudera panted heavily, breaking off into another lustful moan.
"I know…" Yamamoto gasped, lowering his head to nibble along Gokudera's collarbone.
The intimate pair struggled into a moderately standing position, mainly using the wall behind Yamamoto as support, but that was enough. The two pairs of hands savagely ripped at the other's clothing. Shirts fell away, belts torn from around waists, pants tugged off viciously…Yamamoto literally ripped Gokudera's top from his slim, upper-body, and left the shredded heap of cloth to fall silently to the floor in a crumpled heap. The two of them groped, grabbed, bit, and kissed until Gokudera tripped over the rim of the bathtub and toppled in with Yamamoto on top of him. Drinking in the sight of the silver-haired boy in all his naked glory, Yamamoto's lip curled up in a smirk and he reached over the other's head to switch on the water.
Sleets of hot droplets pelted down upon them, kissing every inch of their hard bodies and smoothing away the angry, red bites. With his lips still pressed firmly against Gokudera's, Yamamoto spread apart the creamy thighs beneath him and slowly, carefully, inserted a single digit into the silver-haired boy's tight warmth.
Gokudera hissed and tensed, struggling against the intruding finger. But as Yamamoto delved in deeper and picked up a comfortable rhythm for them both, Gokudera's muscles began to relax as he lay sprawled across the floor of the bathtub, completely and utterly at the mercy of his dark-haired counterpart. As Yamamoto added the second finger, Gokudera groaned loudly and spread his legs further apart, arching his back against the wet tiles, begging to be claimed.
"I…I want…you…" The silver-haired boy gasped, "…inside…now…"
"Just a little more." Yamamoto whispered huskily in his ear.
"No!" Gokudera gritted his teeth and stared up at the other through glossy eyes. "Now! W-What do you take…me for? A wimp?"
Yamamoto could not suppress a wide grin at the angry pout on Gokudera's face.
"Remember: you asked for this." He muttered with a dark smile, slowly retracting his fingers and leaving Gokudera feeling more than just a little lonely and empty. But the feeling didn't last as Yamamoto's throbbing need entered his tight entrance. He moved slowly at first so as not to hurt the silver-haired boy, and gave gentle, shallow thrusts. But as soon as Yamamoto was certain that Gokudera had become accustomed to his movements, he suddenly buried himself to the hilt within the other man, causing both their breaths to hitch. For Gokudera, there was pain and pleasure, but as Yamamoto moved to find a rhythm, the discomfort left entirely to leave only pure bliss.
Without warning, Yamamoto slipped his wet arms around Gokudera's back, brought him into an upright position, and inexplicably managed to stand and slam the silver-haired boy's back into the tiled, bathroom wall without ever having to pull out.
The sudden change of position enabled Yamamoto to discover the sensitive, virgin sweet spot of the silver-haired boy.
"M-More…" Gokudera moaned loudly, wrapping his thighs tightly around Yamamoto's hips.
Yamamoto gave a hard thrust.
"How's that?"
"Harder…"
Yamamoto obeyed.
"Better?"
"Again…and faster…ah…that's right…keep doing that…"
Yamamoto grinned at the success he achieved, clearly written in every line of Gokudera's scrunched up face, crying out in endless pleasure.
And so the two danced the timeless dance of lovers, seeking to understand and unfold the mysteries of each other, diving into a sea of unknown to love, and to satisfy the building fervor to feel happiness as each thrust brought them closer together, entering Gokudera again…and again…and again…
Gokudera shot up in bed with a half-scream. He looked wildly around the room and noticed, to his assurance, that the settings were that of his own apartment and not…he gulped…not Yamamoto's shower. Looking over to his digital clock, Gokudera marked with a grimace that it was 7:00 AM. His head throbbed horridly, as though tens of thousands of tiny hammers were banging away at the inside of his skull. Blearily, he dragged himself out of bed, wincing as he walked to the bathroom. For some inexplicable reason, his thighs, hips, legs and calves were all sore and hurting. The observation brought him to think about the contents of his dream, but he quickly shook his head as he arrived in front of the bathroom mirror.
It was just a dream, albeit an incredibly…pleasurable dream. He involuntarily shivered in delight at the thought of the musky vapor shrouding their squirming bodies, the rough kisses, the roaming hands, the feel of slick thighs between his own…
Gokudera carefully removed his night shirt from over his head and tossed it to the floor. He yawned and gazed sleepily into the mirror. Then his eyes widened slowly in shock. His hand fell away from his slack jaw. His face turned beet red.
What were clearly and unmistakably love-bites, more than he could count, bloomed across his torso: decorating his chest and stomach, trailing along his neck and shoulders. The silver head twitched down. There were even some placed carefully between his thighs.
Gokudera's eyes were about to pop out of his head. He slumped forward to grasp the counter and tried to remember how to breathe. As he cast his eyes frantically around the bathroom, he spotted a navy blue jacket lying discarded on the floor.
A navy blue jacket that he was positive did not belong to him.
A/N: I decided there isn't enough KHR! going around, so I'm here to add to the collection. This was originally written for Cyrene (who makes the best Hibirds! I'll refer you to her if you'd like one) and remains her's to keep forever. If she wishes that I remove this, I will promptly do so. But until then, it's here to stay. On another note, consider this my greeting to the faithful readers of GitB – hello! I'm back, apps are over, and I'm ready to pump you all full of updates! So expect to see them soon.