Gokudera was home early. The washing up was done, a surprisingly large amount given the population of his tiny flat being that of two people, and he'd just finished watching a rather good documentary on the history of a 1940's American Mafioso. Terrible, unlike the Juudaime of course. Uri's area of kingdom in the already tiny flat was de-haired, changed and cleaned so the smell of cat was less noticeable. Although Uri was a box-weapon it was surprising how after a while his stuff began to smell of burning hair.
Gokudera just sat. On the sofa. Nothing left to do. Juudaime had gone to Italy to visit bucking bronco and everyone else was still away on missions. Not that he really wanted to see them anyway although having Yamamoto home would give him something to yell at. They had yet to move to Italy although Gokudera suspected that Juudaime would prefer to have a main base in Japan, given the lack of actual movement away from Namimori although maybe he was just preparing for the mental ordeal that might cause with Hibari. Hmm, maybe that was why he was staying with the bucking bronco, at least that guy could actually handle Hibari, in a sense.
So it was a good thing he was so good with languages. Vongola quality of course. Although he tended to get mixed up when he got heated in fights. Much to his victim's confusion. Which was annoying. On the prowl for neglected attention "Miaow" Uri leaped up onto the sofa.
"Hm" Gokudera lifted his hand and carefully patted the top of Uri's head. "You glad I'm home early?" The cat slowly stepped up onto his lap. "Yeah I'm not. Wonder what Juudaime's doiAAAAA!"
Uri had sunk his claws into Gokudera's leg and began pulling at the flesh to make a nest through his trousers. "Dam miserable stupid cat! Get the fuck of me!" Gokudera slammed his palm into Uri's side but he clung on, causing no blood but shooting pains into Gokudera's leg. "What the fuck has gotten into you! Sod off already!" Gokudera managed to push his fingers under Uri's paws, despite the hissing, and unhooked his claws from the material. Throwing him at his bed. It was padded and fluffy so it wouldn't hurt and Uri landed on his feet like it was all planned.
His fur on end and spitting hisses in Gokudera's direction, who was carefully feeling his leg. There were tiny holes in his trousers and the scratches on his flesh. No blood or any real damage but it hurt like hell anyway. "Stupid fucking cat." Gokudera rubbed his leg and looked around the flat. If he could busy himself with something the little stings wouldn't hurt anywhere near as much but he'd done everything already.
Maybe he shouldn't be so much better at his job as Juudaime's right hand man than everyone else was at being simple guardians. That little thought caused a small smile. He might be bored but Juudaime would be relying on him to have completed his job back in Italy. The efficiency of completion would only serve to reassure the Juudaime more.
He couldn't help but glance at the phone though. It was more than a career. He had to make sure that the phone could be heard throughout the apartment, to be able to help the Juudaime whenever he was needed. That was a part of his life Gokudera more than happily gave up.
His eyes moved down to the table that held a small puzzle box that he hid his keys in every time he came home, a small book of contacts (coded of course) and his dairy (again coded in G language). Under the table was a box. Gokudera stood to see what was in it, his flat was minimalist. As he was active and out often he had no need for a lot of things. His T.V was old and second hand, mainly to watch the news for any suspicious updates that may give clues to other families' activities and the odd good documentary, learning purposes only of course.
The box was full of wires and odd little trinkets. He had stuffed it under here with an intention to sort and never did. The wires were all tangled and what looked like a small little shallow bowl was in here too. Ignoring the soreness in his thigh Gokudera picked up the box and placed it on the small coffee table in front of the sofa and immediately began untangling wires and sorting chargers. What looked like an old packet of filters was at the bottom, he picked it up, took one sniff and chucked it at the nearby bin, 'yuck'. Uri climbed up his post and into his little hanging basket bed, his back leg hanging out at an awkward and watched as Gokudera worked.
Grabbing a hair band Gokudera shoved his hair up. Octopus hair be damned he had a stylish, easily to manipulate hairstyle and he knew it! It was them who had no taste, it was a miracle Sasagawa could even get his turf top even. His little sister probably did it for him.
The first thing he untangled, he held up for Uri to see his work, and inspect of course, It was one wire, split into three ends, each with a different coloured tip. "The hell?" He stood up, turned the t.v off at the plug and looked behind the back. It was sat on a table, with opening cupboard doors to store remotes but the back was open to allow access to wires. Settling onto his knees, he moved the remotes and odd DVD's out of the way. Presents from Doctor Shamal so they remained unopened and discarded. Pervert Doctor.
Head first, followed by elbows Gokudera wriggled his way through to the back and looked up. "Stupid place to put fucking wire ports. Stupid manufacturers." Twisting his arm he aligned the different coloured wires to their corresponding ports and pushed them in. They seemed to fit. "Right, where do you go then?" He looked at the other end but it was the same thing. The extended plug sockets didn't seem to offer an answer.
*Tap*
"AH! WHAT THE HELL!" Gokudera kicked out his legs. Twisting and wriggling to get out of this position fast.
"Ha ha!" Somehow Yamamoto had snuck up behind him without him noticing and tapped his bottom. Stupid baseball idiot with his brainless ideas and idiotic sense of humour. The man was an idiot! "Hello Gokudera. Ha ha!" Sitting back onto his knees he finally got out of the telly cupboard. "What we're you doing down there?" Short, black hair up in tufts and brown curious eyes stared down at him. Yamamoto had shifted to the side to allow Gokudera as much room to manoeuvre as possible.
"What does it look like I'm doing idiot! Why'd you grab me?" Yamamoto just stood there with that same smile on his face. His suit jacket slung over one shoulder, covering the katana strapped to his back.
"Well I got home early." Yamamoto put his hand back to scratch the back of his head. "You finished quickly too, I thought you had to go further." Gokudera had a slight heat in his cheeks from Yamamoto's actions but he ignored it.
"Turns out our informant believed too highly of himself, played up the power and influence of their 'family', just four guys trying to start a gang and steal themselves some reputation. Was nothing." Gokudera strolled towards the kitchen, hands in his pockets. As they were both home he should see what they had in stock for dinner.
"Lucky! Ha" Yamamoto moved over to Uri's cat kingdom to give the feline a pat on the head. Who responded with a satisfied purr.
The kitchen was small but for two people it worked. There wasn't much in the cupboards as both of them were expecting to take much longer, so they hadn't stocked up on any of the short date stuff and Gokudera had removed anything they still had. Toast was out of the question. Maybe soup?
No. No they'd run out of that, the cupboard was empty except for half a bag of pasta and a bottle of ketchup. Yamamoto had seen someone putting it on their pizza in Italy. Gokudera strongly believed they couldn't be Italian in that case, but the baseball idiot seemed to prefer it. Stupid baseball idiot. How comes it was only ketchup and pasta they had? Should have gone to the shops.
Two warm arms wrapped around his waist and a chin rested on his shoulder. Yamamoto's hair was ticklish on his right ear, but the body warmth behind his back was both comforting and annoying. Now he couldn't move without offending the idiot. "I thought I'd make us some dinner. I left a bag by the window." Gokudera jolted and turned.
"You came in through the window? Stupid baseball idiot use the dam door! That's why I didn't hear you."
"Ha ha! I got home early, saw your car pull up outside. So as we had a while I thought I'd treat us to dinner. We don't normally have much in anyway." Gokudera tutted and turned his head away. Romantic crap was fluffy and annoying. "I only came in through the window, because I wanted to surprise you." Yamamoto pressed his nose into Gokudera's forehead, gently, a welcome home gesture. Before stepping back away from him.
Gokudera felt immediately more relaxed now his sense of space had been restored. It seemed Yamamoto remembered some of his lessons after all.
"Urh, fine. What did you have in mind?" Eight-o-clock at night and having not eaten before his flight at eleven. He was hungry, the loud gurgles from Yamamoto's tummy said the same.
"Ah ha ha!" Gokudera had already left to retrieve the bag. Inside was a chunk of tuna steak, rice and vegetables.
Uri lifted a paw to swipe at him as he passed back to the Kitchen. "Miaow."
"Shut it you dam cat I'll feed you in a minute!" Yamamoto was leaning in the kitchen, his left foot up against the counter as he watched Gokudera move.
Gokudera was bored of having to say it time and time again, so instead he just leant over and scratched Yamamoto's knee. "Ouch, he, my bad." He watched from the corner of his eye until Yamamoto placed both feet on the ground.
"Hhmm, fine you can cook." It wasn't often Gokudera let him, he liked the control and preferred to think of the other as too stupid to cook. If he failed. Well Gokudera would one up him. But the food had never failed yet, maybe he actually did pay attention whilst being raised in a sushi restaurant. If he put Ketchup on it though…
Moving around Yamamoto he quickly binned the bottle from the cupboard. "It was old anyway." And strolled back out to the lounge to finish his work and feed his damn cat.
"Gokudera?" Yamamoto stuck his head round the door. "Ah ha found you." Gokudera put the lid back on his pen and stood up from his report.
Gokudera stalked past him, out the bedroom and back into the lounge. "That took ages." Giving him a full cold shoulder so Yamamoto knew he was in trouble. Should anyway.
"Not that long. It's the smell that gets too me though and makes me hungry. Ha ha! Hope you like it." He didn't even have to turn to see Yamamoto's signature smile on his face. The small table was set, the fish on one plate and the rice and vegetables in a separate bowl. It reminded him of the times he ate over at Yamamoto's when he still lived at home. His Dad would insist on doing everything for dinner, and after until Gokudera had mastered washing up. Which he did quickly and efficiently in complete Vongola style. Of course. Don't mess with Vongola!
They sat to dinner. Yamamoto with his back to Uri and the front door and Gokudera occasionally throwing an eye over Yamamoto's shoulder to watch the door. "Baseball idiot. Did you lock the window after you climbed through?"
"Ha ha. Of course." It had him riled. He knew the window had been kept secure and was secure again. He had checked. Yet the fact that Yamamoto had climbed through chasing after a romantic thought had him on edge. The flat was small and cheap whilst they gradually took over the Vongola business and it served its purpose to be safe and sound, to be the solidarity to return to and to sleep in peace. Not something to be silently broken into! Although the food wasn't bad.
"Miaoow!"
Gokudera rested his hand back on the table. "I fed you, what do you want now? Stupid cat."
"Maybe he's just glad we're home Gokudera." Yamamoto leaned his head onto one hand making Gokudera squirm slightly under his gaze. It wasn't exactly a penetrating gaze but he felt uncomfortable with the ease of it.
Uri grumbled slightly and rested his head back inside his little hamper bed. It was just too tempting to poke the bulge as payment for all the time it had jumped on his face whilst sleeping. "What's with that stupid look on your face baseball idiot?"
Yamamoto turned his gaze away to take another bite of fish. He looked thoughtful but that was his normal expression when eating. Idiot needed to think to remember to chew. "I was thinking about us."
With his hand halfway to his mouth Gokudera stopped. "What do you mean?" he took his bite, seemed stupid to put his food back on the plate to listen. Yamamoto also took the leisure to have another mouth full before continuing
Gokudera didn't really move. Not sure what to make of Yamamoto's comment, he was normally a lot more straight forward than this. After a moment he finally continued, "Well, look at us. We work, have jobs, an apartment and even a cat." He glanced over his shoulder at Uri's sleeping hamper. "We've barely really talked about it and it's just happened, and it's working really well." Yeah for you, you stupid baseball idiot. Stressing me out big time, like the window. "Don't you think so, Hayato?"
Gokudera sat there for a moment. They never really had made the transition from last names to first. He'd gotten used to calling him 'Yamamoto' and 'baseball idiot'. "Guess you're right, Takeshi."
Nope. Definitely preferring 'Baseball idiot'.
Yamamoto's face broke into a grin. "Ha ha! I like that, Hayato." Okay, that was too mushy.
Gokudera finished the rest of his meal in silence, and collected Yamamoto's plate to wash up. Again. Washing up was the bane of his life, being able to throw dynamite at enemies was his saving grace most of the time. The sink filled half the way up with a few bubbles too, two arms slipped around his waist again.
"You've gotten pretty good at that Hayato. Ha ha! Now I can stop buying plates in the weekly shop." Stupid baseball idiot, bringing up things that weren't important!
A slight blush crossed his cheeks as Yamamoto's hand curled around his waist and gently rubbed. Normally he would throw off the attempt at couplie romance but this was usually how he led up to foreplay and then sex. He wasn't embarrassed about being with a man but the whole act in of itself made him glance around the kitchen. It was a little too cutesy and only served to put him on edge. Yamamoto nuzzled gently into Gokudera's neck, arms slowly tightening around his waist. Gokudera was uncomfortable, but he did miss a little bit of intimacy. Stupid baseball idiot.
"You finished Hayato?" Gokudera stared down at the bowl, there was a few bits of cutlery still left and a cup, when did he have a drink?
"Uh, yeah." Yamamoto slowly moved one hand up, to place his thumb under Gokudera's jaw and move his face round slightly. "Takeshi." The arm tightened and pulled Gokudera upwards into his chest, almost forcing Gokudera onto tip-toes and the whole of his hand wrapped around Gokudera's neck to bring him up for a kiss.
Gokudera tried to pull back, it was all a bit too forward but Yamamoto held on, his left hand moving down to grip at his hip. Everything was moving a bit too fast and he only had moments to speak when their lips moved before speech would be taken away again. "My hands are….mm…wet." Using his elbows he made a small space, moving over to grab a tea towel and give himself time to cool down and think. It wasn't unusual they'd done it before.
"I'll go put the t.v on for a bit shall I? Bit too early to go to bed yet." Gokudera relaxed slightly as Yamamoto left the room. He may not have noticed the casualness that had come to them, it was only natural after all. Yet that little uncomfortable edge at being around someone was still there. Never quite leaving
There was no ravenous need or spontaneity in their relationship anymore, he preferred it actually, a bit of normality without being randomly pounced on by a supposedly casual rain guardian. Bloody baseball idiot. Yet it required a level of intimacy that he had to make the conscious effort to surrender. To Yamamoto it came almost natural.
Slowly he lowered their one and only tea towel and strode back into the lounge. Yamamoto was sat on the sofa, both legs spread, right foot hooked over his left knee and tapping a mindless, slow pace in mid-air. His right arm extended across the back of the sofa and scratching his nose with his left. Turning his face slightly, Yamamoto smiled "Ha ha! Look what I found." On the t.v was the beginning of what looked like a documentary.
"A documentary on baseball?" Huh, if there was one the baseball idiot had to have found it, although it was a documentary so might be kind of enjoyable.
"Sort of, Masanori Murakami." Gokudera sat down on Yamamoto's right hand side. Switching legs Yamamoto shifted slightly closer. "He was the first baseball player in Japan to go play in the Major League Baseball for San Francisco. Only for two seasons but then returned to Japan and won 103 games as a pitcher."
That's how they passed an hour. It was relaxing, watching the program. Gokudera wasn't overly interested in baseball but to the few they had gone to see, live and on the t.v. He had developed quite a bit of knowledge so could hold quite a steady conversation with Yamamoto over it. Despite not actually caring about the sport in the slightest. Yet that stupid smile never left Yamamoto's face the whole time they were sat there.
When the program finally finished. Gokudera felt Yamamoto's right arm slip down his back around his waist again. Yet for some reason he felt much more relaxed than earlier. Had Yamamoto guessed that it was too sudden? No he was too stupid.
The offending limb pulled him into Yamamoto's chest gently. This time Gokudera was more willing to let Yamamoto kiss him. Instead of getting worked up, Yamamoto seemed to relax into the mood and into Gokudera's chest, twisting his body around slightly to wrap his left arm around his shoulders. "Oi, idiot."
Yamamoto pulled back slightly "Hmm?"
"Welcome home." This time Gokudera kissed him back. Wrapping his arms around his head and neck, right hand holding Yamamoto's left cheek with his fingers curling slightly to feel the soft skin underneath.
Yamamoto tugged at his lip and Gokudera let him in, but if he thought he was going to dominate the Vongola right-hand man in a tongue battle he could think again!
"UA!" Yamamoto pushed him backwards onto the sofa, tongue still in his mouth like a choking hazard. Gokudera could feel the laughter building in his throat.
Oh hell no.
Planting his foot on the sofa he forced a knee between Yamamoto's now twisted legs and pushed. Flipping him over and onto the floor. Uri yowled at the bang, swinging a paw out of his hamper to swipe at mid-air. Yamamoto had kept his grip of Gokudera's waist and pulled him down on top.
"Ha ha ha! I think Uri is sending us to bed Hayato." Gokudera glared over his shoulder at his cat, who had one eye glaring over the hamper at them in contempt.
Fisting his hands into Yamamoto's shirt "Dam stupid cat." Gokudera untangled his legs from Yamamoto so they could stand. Uri mewled and went back to sleeping peacefully. Moving around to check the doors and windows Gokudera listened as Yamamoto moved over to the bedroom to get changed.
Yamamoto had slung his briefcase of clothes in the corner. Torn between putting on bed shorts or just jumping in bed naked. Even at the beginning Gokudera had to be slowly eased into romance, not that Yamamoto particularly minded, but he did have to tie the shorts to hold them up and that just got difficult when things got heated. Not that he actually minded watching Gokudera's fingers work, but it would agitate the other and then their time together didn't seem to feel as good.
Yamamoto pulled his shorts on, a loose knot tied into the drawstrings and headed to the small bathroom, with no room for a bath tub but a shower cubicle. Turning on the tap he washed his face in the still cold water, not bothering to wait till it got hot. The usual night time routine already had him sleepy. Maybe he should make some tea. It had been a while since him and Hayato had an evening to spend with each other without an early morning wake-up call.
Next week they were due to visit the Varia to discuss a small incident involving a town hall, a hijacked crane and six stolen mongoose from the local zoo.
As it was difficult to get them all in one place at one time they could avoid accepting jobs for a while and gets some much needed rest. Hayato might not be up for that though. He liked to keep working. "Hey Hayato, fancy a cup of tea before bed?"
"Are you an idiot? Coffee keeps me awake."
"We could stay up and chat for a bit?"
"What about?"
"I don't know. Ha ha! What about warm milk?"
"Are you five?"
"No? Oh well. I like a warm milk." Yamamoto trotted back into the bedroom on the balls of his feet. Scooping up his discarded clothes and putting them in the hamper. It was a hot day so he pulled the duvet off in favour of leaving a single, double sized blanket, and stuffing the duvet away in a corner.
Hayato moved into the bedroom behind him after turning off all the lights and making a last security round. "You should pack that away properly." Yamamoto lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head. Hayato was right but Yamamoto didn't really have the energy.
"Ha ha. Might be cold tomorrow."
"Should do it anyway." Yamamoto moved in the bed sheets as Hayato stepped around the hamper, glancing into it with a disapproving expression. Yamamoto loved to think of him with that name, it suited him in a strange way, despite the drastic change in syllables. Hayato Hayato Hayato Hayato
"Quit staring. Pervert."
"Ha ha!"
A/N - First ever fan fic - let me know what you think :)