Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! If I did, it would be a little more like this fanfiction here x.x

So I started writing this a couple of weeks ago in my breaks between classes. It's another one of those things I write that magically come to me out of absolutely nowhere. Though I've been incredibly lazy about typing it up and finishing it :) So for some reason, I decided to do all of that at 6:00 am before going to sleep for the night (well, day). Because that's just completely reasonable and utterly normal. I'm going to feel terrible when I wake up x.x This is only my second time writing characters from KHR, and the first time I'm writing Gokudera and Yamamoto. This story is light slash/shounen ai/yaoi/mxm (whatever you want to call it) so avert your eyes if you'd rather not read about a relationship between two guys.

I guess this is how I'd see some kind of weird relationship between the two of them starting. It's just a little one-shot/stand alone kind of piece. Short story, that's the word. I'm really tired T.T

Thank you in advance to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, and so on and so forth! Honestly, nothing makes me happier and more motivated to write than seeing a review alert sitting in my inbox. If I didn't care about what you guys as readers had to say about my little stories, I wouldn't be posting them online :) Enjoy reading, and let me know what you think! :)

Velvet

There had to be at least thirty of them. Surrounding him, crowding the street now abandoned – as fearful mothers had already grabbed the hands of their children and fled. Gokudera couldn't blame them, honestly. Had he been an entirely normal person living an entirely normal life, the sight of thirty (plus) rugged men in all black suits wielding various forms of weaponry, he would probably run too. However, Gokudera was anything but the average person and scenes like this were all too common in his current life. Not that he was complaining – he wouldn't trade his life now for any other kind of life. This was his calling, what he was meant to do. He was the Tenth's right hand man, after all. And he would be for a very long time, if he had anything to say about it.

It was the weekend, one long and stress-free day off of school. Parents were out with their children, shopping or going to the park. He was on his way to visit the boss, incapable of even thinking about giving him advance notice of his visit. It was just a given that he should be by Tsuna's side at all times, whether it was a school day or not. He took his position very seriously. And these men had appeared before him, thinking that they could take him in because he was alone. They didn't seem to know that he fought at his best when he was alone – he didn't have to worry about accidentally blowing one of his comrades to pieces that way.

A job like this was nothing short of perfect for the Tenth's right hand man. If he couldn't handle thirty or so thugs, he didn't have the right to call himself by that title. So he grinned and reached into his pocket, watching as the men around him flinched in fear and anticipation when he began to retract his hand. He could see the relief on their faces when he only pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He casually placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it, replacing the items back into his pockets.

"Well?" He asked through the lit cigarette now resting comfortably between his lips. "Are you going to make your move or just stand there looking like a bunch of idiots?" He wore an arrogant smirk, exhaling smoke into the crowd. He watched as the hesitation and trepidation in their eyes quickly morphed into anger and rage. He knew that feeling – somehow, anger always manages to overcome fear.

"I have somewhere to be, you know," Gokudera taunted them, laughing aloud as more smoke billowed out of him. "I don't need the likes of you wasting any more of my time. So if you're not going to do anything-"

His words were cut off when one of the thugs could no longer contain his anger and launched himself at the fair-haired teenager. Gokudera quickly, instinctively, stepped aside and the force that went into the man's missed attack propelled him to fall forward. The storm guardian buried his foot in the small of the man's back, launching himself into the air above the crowd. Swiftly pulling several sticks of dynamite from seemingly nowhere, he lit them all with his cigarette and let them loose onto the group.

Several small explosions erupted around him before his feet even touched once more upon the ground. Many of his foes were now gone, as they had been sent flying in all directions. Those still standing were enraged even further, spurred on by what Gokudera could only guess to be their own injured pride and the sight of their wounded comrades. Whatever the reason for their wrath, it made them reckless. Four of them came at him from all sides, and he immediately sent four miniscule sticks of dynamite at them with a flick of his fingers. They were knocked off of their feet and directly into the oncoming forms of their comrades. The rest approached him and scrambled over each other, spitting out curses and expletives in their fury.

At their rage-filled voices, Gokudera couldn't help his cocky grin from spreading even wider across his face. "Who else wants their ass kicked?" he taunted once more. He knew exactly how to egg them on, exactly how to make them blind in their fury to make them easier to defeat. He looked like an arrogant son of a bitch, for lack of better term, but it was just another part of his battle strategy. When enraged, thinking with a clear head is simply out of the question. So they fumbled and scrambled and shouted. And it all made them easier to target.

"Shut the hell up!" one man shouted in a gruff voice and ran at him brandishing a crow bar. Gokudera reached into a hidden pocket to retrieve more dynamite – he almost never ran out of explosives, or secret pockets to store them in – and held them in between his fingers.

But he never got the chance to light them (much to his dismay) because a familiar figure suddenly appeared in front of him from within the crowd, or what was left of it. Sword glinting in the sunlight, he knocked the man back as if he had been hit with a baseball bat, teeth and blood flying through the air. Yamamoto knocked aside several more of the thugs in a few swift motions before he turned to grin at Gokudera. "Having fun playing that mafia game again? I see you recruited more people, good job!"

"Wh-what the hell are you doing!?" Gokudera shouted at him, unsure if his reaction was to his interference in the fight or to the ridiculous notion that it was just a game. The rain guardian continued to cut more of their enemies down, the remainder of what was once a much larger crowd. "I had it covered!" Gokudera shouted at him, though he obviously wasn't listening.

And did he still honestly believe, even after everything they'd been through, that this was all just a game? It didn't come as much of a surprise, in truth, because the storm guardian did view Yamamoto as particularly bullheaded. But he would have thought, after so many hospital visits and near death experiences and broken bones, that he would have changed his thoughts on all of it. But it seemed there was just no changing Yamamoto Takeshi.

The rain guardian simply laughed off Gokudera's frustrated shouts and kept swinging his sword. The storm guardian sneered in his annoyance and lit more smaller sticks of dynamite, letting them loose at the remaining thugs – of course now he had to worry about detonating them too close to Yamamoto, who appeared to be enjoying himself, having a grand old time. Gokudera personally wouldn't mind if one blew up a fraction too close to the intrusive mafioso, but he kept them out of wounding distance and erred on the side of caution. Partly because he knew he would feel guilty about it later, and partly because he knew the Tenth would be upset if he let that happen.

Though it seemed by this time, Yamamoto was quite used to having the world explode around him. No matter how close the explosions were to him, he didn't even so much as flinch. He just paraded around their makeshift battlefield, amidst small explosions and swinging his sword, with a smile plastered on his face. He had fought side by side with Gokudera so many times now that he had gotten used to the booming sounds and the thick smoke that settled around them like mist. The smell of burning cloth was normal to him now, as well as the heated breeze as it hit his skin. It wasn't something people normally got used to, but he just kept fighting with that same grin on his face.

When every one of the burly thugs had either fallen or fled, Gokudera turned back to Yamamoto, an angry glare set on his face. He was intent on making sure this wasn't just let go. He ignored the moaning of a nearby man – they all might not be necessarily fine, but they were all at varying stages of alive. Some were just a little more battered than others. Gokudera had used what could be called "civilian explosives" and Yamamoto had only used the back of his blade as he always did.

"I had it covered," Gokudera repeated, anger filling his voice that was slightly hoarse from his attempts to shout at his companion over the fighting and ensuing explosions. He wore a fierce glare set upon his face, and looked directly in Yamamoto's eyes.

"I know," the rain guardian said, resting his sword – now back in the form of a baseball bat – on his shoulder with a grin. Gokudera was certain that it was still the same smile he had been wearing when he first jumped in on his battle. "But I thought I'd help out a bit. That's what teammates are for, right?"

"This isn't baseball!" Gokudera shouted in exasperation, tossing his hands into the air.

Yamamoto just laughed that off, further infuriating the storm guardian as he always did. This action just caused the fiery teenager to continue with his shouting. "And this isn't some mafia game! I'm serious about being the Tenth's right hand, and you should take this just as seriously as-!"

But at this point, Yamamoto had ceased his incessant laughter and had grabbed the front of Gokudera's unbuttoned over-shirt in his fist. He pulled him over and planted a firm kiss directly on his lips. The storm guardian was, needless to say, shocked beyond words. He froze completely, standing taut and motionless pressed against Yamamoto, close enough to feel his heart beating against his own chest, and the softness of the lips pressed against his.

When Yamamoto pulled away, he looked into the rain guardian's eyes. His lips weren't smiling, but his eyes were and they were full of mischief. "No matter what game I play," he said, his fist still clenching the fabric of Gokudera's shirt, "I take it very seriously." The fair-haired teen was stunned into silence. He had rarely seen Yamamoto so serious before, and it was most definitely interfering with his ability to accurately determine what the hell was going on.

Yamamoto pulled him close again and the kiss this time was far gentler. But Gokudera was prepared the second time – he threw his hands against Yamamoto's chest and pushed him back with as much force as he could muster at that close of a distance. The rain guardian stumbled backward and lost his footing, landing on his backside on the street. He looked up at Gokudera, who was absolutely fuming, from his position on the ground and burst out laughing. That same infuriating laugh – but he wasn't going to be able to laugh this one off, not this time. The storm guardian furiously wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" He screamed, repeating himself from earlier, though this time the question was aimed at much different actions.

The rain guardian stayed sitting on the ground and started laughing. Gokudera swore if he laughed one more time, he was going to punch him in the face. Or set off a series of explosions in his general vicinity. Whichever came first. At this point, he really could care less if the Tenth saw his friend with bruises on his face. He was pretty damn sure that he now had a valid reason to thoroughly maim the baseball fanatic.

"You have clearly lost your mind! Did one of these guys hit you in the head!?" He shouted, motioning toward the barely conscious forms of the men littering the ground. He knew the answer to that question. These men were far too weak to get a hit in on either of them. He just needed to find some excuse not to beat the crap out of one of the Tenth's best friends.

As if on cue, he heard the voice of Sawada Tsunayoshi calling out both of their names. He took a moment to swallow everything he was feeling and bury it in the pit of his stomach before turning around with a grin on his face. "Hey Tenth!" he greeted him, hoping to any and all forms of higher power that he hadn't witnessed what had just transpired. He was having a hard enough time dealing with it happening privately.

"What happened here!?" The small teen said, panting and bending over, placing his hands on his legs to rest a moment.

"We heard the explosions," came the incredibly young voice of his home tutor, the small child perched on his shoulder. "We knew it had to be you, so we ran over."

"What do you mean 'we'!?" The tenth Vongola boss said in exasperation. "I'm the one that ran, you're just along for the ride!" Tsuna looked around, his eyes following the mass of thugs scattered on the small street until they landed on Yamamoto who then decided to push himself to his feet. "What happened?" He repeated himself, and Gokudera could see both the disbelief that he had once again set off dynamite in a residential area and the concern for his friends. That, right there, was the reason he was and would always be loyal to Tsuna.

Just not loyal enough to admit that Yamamoto had kissed him, though he knew he would probably answer Tsuna honestly if he was asked directly. Luckily, it seemed that the sky guardian was referring to the buildup of bodies lying at their feet.

"Oh, these guys," Gokudera said nonchalantly. "They were threatening the integrity of our family. They're way too weak to do anything, but I put them down anyway."

"You mean we put them down," Yamamoto threw an arm around his shoulders, a weight of which Gokudera violently shrugged off. He was seriously going to punch him in that smiling, annoying, and smug face of his. Just as soon as the boss left.

From Tsuna's shoulder, Reborn nodded in approval of their preemptive actions, but the sky guardian groaned loudly in his aggravation and brought his hands to his hair. "We need to get out of here before the cops get here!" he said, grabbing both of their arms and pulling them down the street, away from the scene.

"They'll know it was you, you're covered in dirt and soot and blood!" Tsuna was saying as he pulled them. "My house is closest. Oh man, how am I going to explain this one to mom!?" he asked, though the question was clearly aimed only at himself. Gokudera couldn't help but grin in response, glancing at the panicking and rambling teenager he had pledged his life and loyalty to.

He then looked over at the rain guardian, who was just laughing as he got tugged along. Tsuna had been right, he was covered in evidence of the brawl, though Yamamoto didn't seem to notice. He caught Gokudera's eye and broke out into the single most large and self-satisfied grin he had ever worn. He owed him more than one punch now. Maybe ten. Ten sounded reasonable.

Gokudera summoned up as much hate as he possibly could into his face, unable to voice his immense displeasure allowed for fear of the Tenth asking questions he didn't want to answer. That action just seemed to cause Yamamoto's laughter to intensify, and Gokudera was pretty sure at this point that he was just going to have to kill him.

Oh, he was so lucky the Tenth had shown up at that exact moment. That was the only reason he was walking away with his life.

Tsuna's grip on their arms tightened involuntarily at the sound of police sirens, growing steadily louder as they closed the gap between their cars and the scene of the crime. He pulled them down a side road and his tone had gotten more frantic, going on and on about how he couldn't get one day, just one, to relax in peace and how ever since Reborn had come into the picture, his life was nothing but chaos and what kind of high school student walks around carrying dynamite or a sword?

The storm guardian just resigned himself to being pulled along, trying very hard to concentrate on the boss's panicked ramblings. Trying very hard not to think about Yamamoto, his goddamn smile, that infuriating and constant laughter, or the soft velvet of his kiss.