A/N: Ah, if I could only get in the mood to twist up the story line and write out the rest of the Squalo-based one... This one goes backwards, oho~! Fluff, I suppose. Writing this stuff feels weird. =w= This takes place about 15 years later, so they've known each other for a long time here. Mm, I've always thought that if they were in a relationship, it'd be like this... I like happy endings. D: Although, this is technically 'the beginning'. -/End Rambling.-
"Haha, children these days are really gifted, aren't they, Squalo?" Yamamoto commented, over looking the individual training of about 20 students from a private balcony. Squalo, still keeping a look of fresh youth on his older body, only snorted.
Even though Squalo's reply was vague, years of knowing the man made Yamamoto able to decipher the code. "I'm glad you agree." He looked over his shoulder to beam at him, a nostalgic look in his warm brown eyes. "But it gets dangerous sometimes..." The younger man's face grew somber and he turned around to stand closely in front of Squalo. "Sometimes I wonder how we even stayed alive." he trailed off. Squalo's face took on a subtle gentleness, watching Yamamoto close his eyes in an attempt to briefly relive their past missions together. A hand, unhesitant in its action, found Yamamoto's in a warm touch. A weak laugh left Yamamoto's lips. He felt young again, leaning his forehead against Squalo's shoulder; it was his absolute favorite place.
Squalo's hand eventually wrapped around Yamamoto's, a sign that the past was done with and what mattered was now. "Voi, you aren't going to get sentimental now, are you?" Squalo softly remarked, feeling Yamamoto's fingers close around the side of his palm. He inhaled the scent on the rich Italian suit Squalo chose to wear today. "No, I'm not going to." Yamamoto replied fondly. The years had certainly changed the both of them, Yamamoto noted. Squalo was gentler, a bit quieter, but still had that overall zeal about him. It was obvious in the subtle brushes he would purposely do when walking past, the way he would snore lightly on the sofa as the Vongola rain guardian prepared an authentic Japanese dinner, and how he would still shout out that "Voi~!!" Yamamoto loved to hear so much, regardless even if he had been sleeping when Squalo returned home.
"Takeshi?" Squalo murmured, tilting his head to rest on Yamamoto's. "Yes?" There was a silence of true anticipation. "I care about you. A lot." Yamamoto turned his head a bit on Squalo's shoulder to face away from him. He chuckled, knowing that it would be hard for the assassin to straight out say what he really meant. Yamamoto pulled away temporarily, eyes gleaming with an all-knowing look. "I care a lot about you too, Squalo." Yamamoto could feel Squalo's hold on his hand falter a bit when he pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He casually replaced his head onto Squalo's shoulder.
Whenever Squalo was ready, he thought, he would be ready too. The wind suddenly picked up around them, bringing out the couple of their own little world, and Yamamoto could have sworn he heard the faint mutter of "I really love you." travel on the wind, and perhaps when Squalo intertwined their fingers together he thought he heard it again.
So many years had passed, all the obstacles in their lives passed with strained ease. So many years just to hear that simple structure of words leave Squalo's mind and made into spoken words.
Yamamoto smiled and nuzzled into the side of Squalo's neck, making sure that his own vocalization of those feelings were swept into the wind as well, only to be heard as a faint whisper.
"I really love you too."
His reply was possibly heard, Squalo's doting kiss on his head making him believe so.
There really was no other place he wanted to be.