A/N: Hello again! I just wanted to thank all of the reviewers for the previous chapter. Your reviews really made me happy! I also wanted to say that this story is completely written out, for the most part anyway. All I need to do is extensively edit it. So this story should be about…4 or 5 chapters long. It just depends on how I want to separate it.

Some warnings I have for this chapter are:

Some angst will be mixed in. I just hope I didn't fail at it lol.

For some reason I wrote Gokudera as older than Yamamoto because of some weird thinking on my part. Really, I have no problem on which one of them is older because, if you look at it realistically, since Amano doesn't mention what year they were born in (to my knowledge), either one of them could be older. If they were born in the same year, Yamamoto is older but if Gokudera held himself back from school for a year (or if his father did, either choice is possible because of Gokudera's background) Gokudera could still be in the same class as Yamamoto and Tsuna and around the same age but only a few months older than the two. In actuality, I didn't think because one of my friends, who is in the same year of school as me, was born in September (like Gokudera) and I was born in April (like Yamamoto) so, since I'm used to the idea of her being slightly older than me, I naturally thought this was the case between Gokudera and Yamamoto without really thinking…but it's cute to think of the smaller feisty tsundere as the older one, right? =) (I've been reading too much Junjou Egoist…) Anyway, I hope that won't confuse anyone when they read the story. It was mainly my fault for not thinking clearly at the time, and I'm unsure of changing it because I mention their age a lot in the upcoming chapters so it would be confusing on my part to change it. So I'm sorry if anyone doesn't like the idea of Gokudera being the older of the two, but if it really bothers people then I will try my best to change it.

Part 2

It didn't take long for Gokudera, with Yamamoto closely following behind, to make it to their destination after running the rest of the way. The young flustered Italian panted heavily, his face flushed from exertion and embarrassment, remembering why he was running in the first place.

"Ahahahaha! That was a fun work out!"

Gokudera growled in irritation at his pesky 'friend', wishing the idiot would just go away already. The silver-haired teen must have said what he was thinking out loud because the next moment, Yamamoto was laughing again and clapping him on the back.

"I can't just leave you Gokudera. I promised I would help you!"

Gokudera whipped his head around to face the taller teen, seething with anger. "You didn't promise me shit! Now go away!"

Yamamoto's hazel-brown eyes scrunched in confusion, head tilting comically to the side. "I didn't? Hmm…"

Gokudera's eyebrows twitched in irritation, a deep scowl forming on his face as he watched his companion trying to think (Gokudera noted it looked like it hurt) while also noticing that the taller boy still had his hand on his should after he had slapped his back earlier. It felt warm…

"Ah!" Yamamoto exclaimed and snapped his fingers on his free hand, also effectively snapping Gokudera out of his thoughts that were becoming…uncomfortable. "I guess I didn't promise you earlier like I thought I had, ha ha! So how about I make a promise to help you now. What do you say Gokudera?"

The tall dark-haired boy's eyes bore into the frazzled green of his companion's, his constant smile almost pleading for assent. Gokudera noticed a very uncomfortable feeling in his gut that felt like a mixture between the stomach aches he got around his sister and the intrigue he felt when he read up on the latest UFO's. This feeling continued growing stronger with every minute that passed looking into the taller boy's eyes, the young Italian feeling the weirdest inclination to lean his head forward…

Immediately deciding that prolonging this action could only end in disaster, Gokudera threw Yamamoto's hand off from around his shoulder in a flustered huff.

"Whatever, let's just get this done and over with already. I've wasted enough time fooling around today!" The flushed Italian choked out as he stomped into the laundry mat, Yamamoto laughing jovially as he followed him.

Once the two boys finally made it into the building, they both quickly came to realize that the place was sort of small. There were about a dozen drying machines stacked together along the back wall to their left, with a folding station resting along the wall in front of them. There were also about a dozen washing machines placed in the middle of the floor, with a little waiting area with plush chairs and open-benches to their right. The wall behind them held the front door (obviously) along with a huge window that took up one half of the wall to show the busy sidewalk outside.

Despite its small size, the laundry mat was very busy that day and Gokudera was rather quick to notice that all the machines were occupied at the moment.

Great. That was just great.

Cursing colorfully enough for every mother in the building, as well as outside, to glare disapprovingly at him, Gokudera made his way to a waiting bench since all the comfy chairs were taken as well. Yamamoto laughed nervously, raising his hands up, trying to placate the angry mothers who continued to glare at the Italian delinquent who was grumpily ignoring every one of them as he sat dejectedly on the nearest open bench. The dark-haired boy quickly sat next to his sulking friend, setting his duffel bag down next to Gokudera's, and fidgeted uncomfortably while he tried to figure out a conversation that wouldn't upset the smaller teen further. Knowing in the end that it was futile, Yamamoto just decided to say what was on his mind.

"So can I help you do the laundry too? With two of us it will go quicker."

To Yamamoto's surprise Gokudera started laughing, actually laughing. Scared that maybe his young friend had finally snapped from his stressful morning, Yamamoto made to grab onto the smaller teen and shake him to a normal state of mind, but before he could, Gokudera tried to speak.

"Ha…ha…" the older boy started, gasping for breath while he clutched his stomach and wiping laughing tears from his eyes. "Y-you…doing laundry? Don't make me laugh!"

Yamamoto didn't want to be the one to point out that he had already accomplished that task so he decided to speak up instead. "Um…but I really want to Gokudera."

The Italian boy snapped back to his usual self in an instant, glaring threateningly up at the taller boy. "Like hell I would let you clean my stuff! You don't even know how to do laundry so you'd just end up ruining everything!"

Yamamoto laughed sheepishly at that. "Well that's true, I kind of forgot about that but maybe you can teach me?"

Gokudera's eyes narrowed at the pleading look on the baseball-idiot's face. There was no way he was falling for this trick again. "No. Way. In. Hell!"

"You don't have to sound so insulted Gokudera." Yamamoto chuckled out uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head. The dark-haired boy's eyes suddenly widened as he thought of something. "Ok, so I won't help you with your laundry but I will help you carry it back to your apartment, ok? Let's make it a promise!"

"Shut up with your stupid promises already!" Gokudera yelled, his face contorting in indignation as he stood up angrily from the bench. "Stop making promises I don't want you to keep in the first place, idiot!"

"Ha ha, you're so funny Gokudera!"

Sighing in exhaustion, Gokudera knew when Yamamoto was purposefully ignoring him. The exhausted teen sank back down onto the bench in defeat. Today was just not his day.

As if to make his day even worse (if that was even possible), the following silence that ensued was long enough for Yamamoto to grow quickly bored (Gokudera swore the boy had A.D.D.). This prompted the said baseball-idiot with A.D.D. to pick up the duffel bag he had stolen from Gokudera beforehand and riffle through it without the Italian teen's knowledge.

It wasn't long before Yamamoto struck gold.

Before Gokudera could realize what had just transpired, Yamamoto gave a triumphant laugh as he pulled a pair of boxers from his bag.

"Ahahaha, how cute! Even your boxers have fireworks on them!"

Gokudera gave a startled cry as he stared in horror at the red pair of boxers with the dynamite stick motif on them (not fireworks!) hanging from Yamamoto's triumphant hand.

"Y-you asshole! Put those back!" The Italian shouted embarrassingly, making a grab for the offending garment.

Yamamoto just laughed in good humor and stretched his hand away from the flailing Italian. "Ha ha, but they're so cute Gokudera! Why would you want to hide them?"

It was no surprise that every person in the laundry mat was staring questioningly at the two sitting boys by now. There confused stares were ignored for the most part as Gokudera continued to grab for his underwear, unconsciously leaning against Yamamoto who was laughing and trying his best to keep them away from the flailing teen. It was actually in this position with Gokudera breathing heavily, his chest pressed against Yamamoto's shoulder and stretching his arms high to reach his boxers that Yamamoto faltered, realizing him and Gokudera's close proximity and how Gokudera's shirt lifted just so, to show a patch of creamy-pale skin. Taking advantage of the taller teen's distraction, (even though Gokudera had no idea why the idiot had suddenly become distracted) the silver-haired teen swiped his boxers out of the tanned athlete's slackening hand, returning them to their rightful owner. Not wasting any time, Gokudera grabbed the duffel bag with the rest of his boxers in it, and made a run for a now conveniently open washing machine, rudely cutting off an old lady heading in the same direction. As the smaller teen did this, Yamamoto could only watch him in stunned silence, his eyes dazed from his previous distraction and a slight blush adorning his face.

After finally commandeering the washer (the one conveniently closest to the door just in case he needed to make a quick getaway), Gokudera set to work, his movements stiff with anger as he piled his darks (including his boxers) into the washer, taking more time than was deemed necessary so as not to look at Yamamoto. This of course, was for the taller teens own safety. At the moment, Gokudera couldn't be held responsible for strangling the other boy on sight and blowing up his corpse to hide the evidence. It was the baseball-idiot's fault for embarrassing him in the first place, and in public no less! Gokudera swore the only thing stopping him from doing such a deed at the moment was the thought of how disappointed and saddened the Tenth would be if he blew up one of his best friends.

Noticing his friend's stewing anger, Yamamoto felt a pang of guilt hit him like a force of bricks. He shouldn't have embarrassed Gokudera like that in public. When he hung out with the silver-haired Italian, Yamamoto would often forget that there were other people around because he was so focused on the young feisty teen. How could he not be focused on him? Gokudera practically demanded all of Yamamoto's attention with the way he talked, the way he walked, the way Gokudera did, well, everything. Gokudera was absolutely mesmerizing to him.

With a sad sigh, Yamamoto rose from the bench and walked over to Gokudera who was still throwing his dark clothes into the washer with venomous force, as if the clothes had done him a personal wrong. Yamamoto rubbed the back of his head uncertainly as he stood behind the fiery teen, trying to think of what to say and wincing every time Gokudera threw in another one of his clothes, the inside of the washer ringing ominously with each hit.

"Um…Gokudera?"

The silver-haired teen continued to fill the washer as if he hadn't heard anything. Shifting to the side, the pissed-off Italian then bent down and riffled through his duffel bag and hauled out a big bottle of laundry soap. Yamamoto's eyebrows rose at that. So that's why the duffel bag he was carrying was so heavy…

"Look Gokudera, I'm sorry about earlier. What I did was uncalled for." Yamamoto started again, an apologetic tone lacing his every word.

Gokudera's answer was the slamming of the washer lid, which effectively made everyone in the store jump in surprise at the sound. He kept his back turned to Yamamoto, his hands still lying on top of the washer lid from where he had slammed it. Yamamoto could sense the killing intent wafting off of the young Italian in waves.

His voice taking on a hint of nervousness, Yamamoto continued to try and apologize. "I-I'm really, really sorry Gokudera! If…if there's anything—no, I'll do anything to make it up to you!"

'Then how about you shut up and leave me the hell alone?' was what Gokudera was dying to say but his stomach beat him to the chase, giving off an angry growl from lack of nourishment. The silver-haired boy blushed in embarrassment, frozen in place and now completely refusing to turn around and look at the teen behind him because of it. He had a feeling he knew where this was going to go.

"Did you forget to eat breakfast again Gokudera?" Yamamoto asked in wonder after a short silence, his nervousness momentarily forgotten upon hearing the other's stomach. The rain guardian's eyes became serious, flashing with worry, when he thought of Gokudera not treating himself well. Before his friend could even answer his previous question, Yamamoto was quick to offer his suggestion. "You probably don't have much money on you at the moment do you? How about I go and buy us some bento at a convenience store for lunch?"

Gokudera gave an irritated growl at Yamamoto's tone of voice. He didn't want any pity; the damn idiot knew about his money situation, especially during the end of the month and he really didn't need this now. The young Italian knew it was a losing battle though. He hadn't eaten anything decent for the past couple days since he ran out of instant food in his apartment and Yamamoto had been too busy with baseball practice and his dad's sushi shop to help him cook anything and— damn it he was hungry!

"Fine," Gokudera mumbled gruffly, still not turning around to look at his companion. "Just be quick about it idiot, I'm starving."

Gokudera didn't have to see Yamamoto to know the idiot was smiling like he had just won the lottery.

"Ha ha alright, I'll be as quick as I can! I think I saw a store just down the street from here."

Yamamoto practically jumped for joy at the chance to do something that would help his friend. He quickly grabbed the door which was a few feet away from him and Gokudera, the bells on the door chiming at the action, and stood in the open doorway. The tall dark-haired boy glanced back at his friend, giving him his best winning smile even though Gokudera was still refusing to look at him.

"Just wait right there Gokudera, I'll be back in a flash. Don't go anywhere now!"

Yamamoto's smile grew wider as Gokudera gave him the reaction he was looking for. The young Italian quickly spun around and yelled "Where the hell would I go when I have all this shit to do? Are you stupid?"

The dark-haired teen laughed joyfully, happy that he was finally able to get Gokudera to look at him. Instead of answering the smaller teen, Yamamoto ran out the door and down the side walk towards the convenience store, waving to Gokudera through the huge store-front window as he passed.

Gokudera gave another sigh of exhaustion once Yamamoto left to run his errand. He quickly dug through his pockets to get the right amount of change to start the washer, all the while thinking how that baseball-idiot was going to kill him someday with his annoying kindness. The young Italian secretly smiled at that. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to go?


The tinkling of bells declared Yamamoto's return ten minutes later, as he opened up the door to the laundry mat and glanced around for his friend. A quick glance to the left showed him that Gokudera had taken his words to heart and had not moved from his place by the washer. Yamamoto chuckled a bit in amusement as he idled over to his hungry friend who had taken it upon himself to sit on top of the washing machine, much to the chagrin and disproving glares of his fellow laundry mat users. Gokudera, of course, didn't seem to care.

"Ha ha, I didn't think you would actually listen to me!" Yamamoto chuckled good-naturedly, his eyes dancing with achievement as he approached the young Italian sitting on the washer. Said Italian bristled in agitation at his words.

"Like hell I would do that!" The feisty Italian berated him. "I moved and brought back my other duffel so that I could guard both of them. Since you had the bright idea to go and wave my underwear for everyone to see, those college girls in the back have been eyeing my stuff ever since then like they want to steal it."

Wincing slightly at the reminder of his embarrassing behavior, Yamamoto turned to look at where Gokudera was glaring at behind them; the taller boy's eyes widened in slight interest at seeing a small group of university girls sitting in the waiting area with baskets full of clothes. Noticing the boy's staring at them, the gaggle of girls burst out into embarrassing giggles and started whispering conspiratorially to each other in excitement.

"Ha ha, they're acting like the fan-girls at school, don't you think?"

"All the more reason to keep a close eye on them to make sure they don't do anything."

Yamamoto laughed at his friend's paranoia, finally turning around from eyeing the suspicious girls to look at his friend. The baseball player offered up a plastic convenience store bag, a small calming smile on his lips. "Well, let's just ignore them like we usually do and enjoy our lunch, ok?"

Gokudera gave a disapproving snort at his companion's lack of wariness, but eyed the bag that contained probably the most nutritional and fulfilling food he had had in days with ravenous eyes. "You better not have gotten me something awful, baseball-idiot."

Yamamoto chuckled amusedly, giving his friend an endearing smile. "I would never do that, Gokudera. Look, I got you a bento with that eel sushi you like so much."

Gokudera's eyes widened in surprise as Yamamoto pulled out said bento with said eel sushi (there was some fatty tuna sushi in there also but he really didn't mind). The young Italian tried very hard not to salivate like a begging dog as Yamamoto handed him his bento then reached back into his bag to grab what looked like an iced coffee.

"Ha ha, I know it probably isn't the best beverage to go with sushi but I heard you really like this stuff." Yamamoto laughed sheepishly, handing Gokudera the iced coffee with tentative hands.

Gokudera stared at the coffee in shock. He wondered when Yamamoto had found out that he liked iced coffee since he hardly drank it; it was way more expensive than soda so he usually drank the latter. Sometimes it surprised him how perceptive Yamamoto could actually be.

Blushing, Gokudera quickly mumbled a thank you as he tore the iced beverage from Yamamoto's hands and concentrated on opening his bento, all the while doing his best to ignore the ecstatic smile Yamamoto was now blessing him with. The taller teen was thrilled at actually receiving a thank you (even though it was quick and hardly audible) from his shorter friend. Snapping out of his thoughts, Yamamoto then proceeded to take out his own bento, which was the same as Gokudera's (fatty tuna was his favorite!), and a bottle of milk.

Gokudera snorted and rolled his eyes upon seeing the milk beverage in the baseball player's hand (Yamamoto was so predictable sometimes). He scooted over to the far side of the washer he was sitting on in the process, so that Yamamoto had a place to set his bento. With Gokudera sitting at the far end of the washer, his bento in his lap, Yamamoto had enough room to set down his bento and glass of milk next to Gokudera's iced coffee, making a makeshift table. Hopefully the manager of the store wouldn't walk in to see the misuse of his precious washing machine; Yamamoto was pretty sure they'd be kicked out.

With a friendly atmosphere surrounding them, the two boys started to eat their lunch in companionable silence, Gokudera trying hard not to eat his too fast and get sick (he was starving!). It was only a short time into their meal when Yamamoto's cell phone went off. The tall teen blinked in surprise, recognizing the ring tone. He quickly swallowed a mouth full of rice, grabbing his phone from his pocket in the process, and quickly headed for the door.

"I'll be back in a bit Gokudera." Yamamoto stated as he glanced back over his shoulder at his surprised and questioning companion. "I'll just take this call outside."

With a small reassuring smile, Yamamoto shut the door of the laundry mat behind him, the bells above the door tinkling his dismissal. Gokudera watched with slight interest, his bento completely forgotten and chopsticks, carrying a piece of stir fried broccoli, half way to his mouth as Yamamoto walked by the large window in front of the store and stopped near the end, still clearly visible through the glass. From his position on the washing machine, Gokudera could see Yamamoto's back and the side of his face. Wondering why Yamamoto had decided to talk outside instead of in the store intrigued Gokudera enough to forget his hunger and secretly watch the conversation outside unfold before him.


Finally making it outside where he knew Gokudera wouldn't be able to hear him, Yamamoto prepared himself with a deep steady breathe and answered his phone.

"Hello?"

"Yamamoto?"

"Ah, Daichi-senpai, I wasn't expecting you to call!" Yamamoto exclaimed, faking enthusiasm that only his closest friends would notice. Of course, what he had just said was a complete lie; he had gotten used to these calls from his older teammate and had given him a specific ring tone to warn him of his impending calls. They never boded well for Yamamoto.

"Huh, I don't believe that for a second!" was Daichi's angry reply. "I just got a text from Airi saying that you ditched her again! This was the fifth time Yamamoto, the fifth time! What the hell do you think you're doing; playing with my little sister's heart like that?"

"Now, now Senpai," Yamamoto stated seriously, his free hand coming up defensively even though the older boy couldn't see it. "I didn't mean to call off our date like that again, something just came up."

Yamamoto's older teammate huffed in disbelief on the other line. "Let me guess, it had something to do with that charity case of yours—that foul mouthed delinquent you always hang out with."

The tall Japanese teen tensed at those words, his free hand unconsciously balling up into a fist at his side. "Gokudera needed my help." He stated defensively, like that was all his teammate needed to know to understand. The older baseball player had to understand.

"You always say that!" Daichi yelled back in response, his voice thick with exasperation. "You always say you need to help that guy and end up ditching my sister for him every, single, time! I've seen how that guy acts around you. He treats you like shit Yamamoto! He always treats you like shit and yet you always end up helping him! That's complete crap!"

Yamamoto ground his teeth together angrily, his eyes narrowing dangerously with every word that spilled from his senpai's mouth. Daichi didn't understand how Gokudera worked; no one seemed to. Trying his best to keep his voice calm, the dark-haired teen rationalized with himself that he just needed to explain his situation better to his senpai.

"Look Senpai, you don't know Gokudera like I do." Yamamoto started, all humor leaving his voice. "He's…really difficult to read for most people but that's because he tries to chase everybody away with his words and actions. Underneath that, Gokudera is just really shy and stubborn; he tries to hide that he needs help when he really does need it. You know that he lives alone and can't completely support himself—"

"Really Yamamoto, I can't find myself to care at this point." Daichi interrupted rather rudely, fed up with his underclassman's excuses. "I've never liked that stupid foreigner and I probably never will. He's an ass and you're too kind or blind to see it. He's probably just free-loading off of your kindness and doesn't actually give a shit about you!"

"You're wrong!"

There was silence on the other line after Yamamoto's rather loud outburst. The younger teen's body shook with undisguised fury, his eyes wild with rage and aggravation; the complete opposite of his usual happy-go-lucky demeanor. His senpai had no right to insult Gokudera, no right; when he didn't even knows him, didn't even try to know him.

"Gokudera isn't like that." Yamamoto started, his voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "You don't know him Senpai, and I know you never want to, but I know him. So let me tell you this so you at least know something…"

Yamamoto heard a sharp inhale from Daichi at the jab to his intelligence, no doubt a little apprehensive to be at the receiving end of an angry Yamamoto; something which he and the baseball team had been sure could never happen.

"Know that whenever there's a situation where my friends need help, I will always help them. They will always come first. I'm sorry that I've been setting your sister aside for my friend but I don't know your sister. She's not my friend and because of that, Gokudera is more important to me."

There was a long silence on the other line where Yamamoto wondered if his senpai had hung up on him. Before Yamamoto became more fed up and could hang up himself, Daichi finally decided to speak.

"He's more important?" The upperclassman asked with a hint of finality in his voice, wondering if that truly was Yamamoto's answer.

Yamamoto didn't even need to think.

"Yes."

There was a heavy sigh on the other line, one filled with defeat and agitation. "Fine, whatever Yamamoto…I guess I'll see you at practice tomorrow."

"Y-yeah…" Yamamoto stuttered uncomfortably, calming down enough to realize he had just fought with one of his older teammates. Hopefully this didn't screw up the team's dynamic.

After that Daichi hung up, leaving Yamamoto to wonder what he had just done. He knew why he had gone off on his senpai like that; he was defending Gokudera from being blamed for something he had no control of. It wasn't the silver-haired teen's fault that Yamamoto had decided to help him. The dark-haired teen had consciously made that decision because he had wanted to help his friend out.

…No, that wasn't completely true.

Yamamoto gave a strained sigh, rubbing his forehead in agitation as he leaned against the humongous laundry mat window, the previous call stirring up very unwanted doubts in his mind. He knew that he not only wanted to help Gokudera, he wanted to be around the fiery teen all the time as much as he possible could. He knew it was very unfair to Airi-chan, Daichi-senpai's little sister, that he would prefer being around his young ill-tempered friend. Yamamoto would often ditch her for that very reason, coming up with ridiculous excuses just so he could hang out with Gokudera.

He liked Gokudera.

He liked the silver-haired teen more than anyone else he had ever met. He liked him more than the throngs of fan-girls at his school, more than any of the girls at his school. And Yamamoto knew it was wrong. It was terribly wrong, and Gokudera would never see him in the same way. Yamamoto was trying so hard to distract himself from the beautiful Italian by doing random things like, for instance, accepting to take his senpai's sister out on a date but with every distraction, with every part of himself telling him that feeling this way was dangerous and would only hurt him, he only wanted Gokudera more. The moment his silver-haired friend showed up everything Yamamoto told himself not to do flew out the metaphorical window and he planted himself right beside the person he wanted the most but knew he could probably never have.

It wasn't hard to see that Gokudera only had eyes for Tsuna.

Yamamoto sighed despairingly, slouching further against the laundry mat window, wondering why he was making himself go through this and why he had even come to the laundry mat in the first place.


While all this was transpiring, Gokudera continued to watch from his sitting position on the washing machine. The silver-haired boy's eyes narrowed dangerously, eyebrows furrowing with concentration, as he watched the change in Yamamoto's demeanor; seeing his once happy face become frustrated, and from there, turn downright furious. Gokudera had experienced an angry Yamamoto before, heck he was probably the first person to ever piss Yamamoto off (Gokudera was surprised to feel a little twisted satisfaction at the thought), but to see someone else (who? Gokudera had no idea) bring Yamamoto down enough for the taller boy to start yelling into his phone was enough to make Gokudera feel concerned.

'Who the fuck is this person to make Yamamoto so upset like that?' the silver-haired bomber thought heatedly, as he saw his friend shake in fury from the other side of the window. Who the hell did this person think he/she was? Gokudera had to restrain himself from marching out there and stealing the phone from an aggravated Yamamoto's hands just to bitch this mystery person out, find out his/her address, and then precede to freaking bomb their ass into next week (or an early grave, Gokudera was too pissed-off to really care for the small details at the moment).

The young Italian was brought out of his very violent thoughts at the sight of Yamamoto hanging up his phone and leaning heavily against the window, rubbing his temples tiredly and shoulders sagging in defeat. Gokudera was at a loss for words. It had been such a long time since he saw that kind of look on the tall baseball player's face. He looked just like he did after Gokudera had ticked him off during their fight with Gamma, except…it looked so much sadder, like Yamamoto didn't want to deal with something anymore.

It looked like…like Yamamoto was giving up.

Gokudera's jade-green eyes practically popped out of his head at this revelation. The Italian was one hundred percent certain that giving up wasn't even part of the baseball-idiot's vocabulary. Yamamoto Takeshi did not, under any circumstances, give up; he persisted until he succeeded or pestered you enough until you wanted to sock him in the face! Gokudera had absolutely no idea what Yamamoto was giving up on but he sure as hell wasn't going to stand by and watch the idiot do it. This was wrong, and whoever made his friend feel this way was going to pay, painfully!

Not sparing a second thought at just calling Yamamoto his 'friend' and his personal vendetta against this mystery jerk-wad who had hurt him, Gokudera scanned the laundry mat, looking for anything that could cheer the baseball-idiot up. Seeing as how Yamamoto was brought to the point of doing un-characteristic things, Gokudera had to do something big in order to make the idiot forget about whatever had just happened.

What the hell? He had no idea on how to cheer the idiot up! He was so used to the taller teen being happy all the time with everything. Would anything he did actually make the idiot smile again? Looking down at his bento box, Gokudera noticed that most of his food portions were equally divided after eating about half of it; he still had some eel and fatty tuna sushi left over. Quickly glancing over at Yamamoto's bento, Gokudera realized that the idiot had gotten the same bento as him but only the fatty tuna was eaten and nothing much of anything else. He knew from hanging out at the Takesushi shop that Yamamoto was a raving fan for fatty tuna…

Giving a disgruntled sigh as a certain thought struck him, Gokudera sucked up his pride and placed the rest of his fatty tuna in Yamamoto's bento. The young Italian was kind of desperate to try this, since he was certain that giving Yamamoto food probably wasn't the best way on cheering him up but he had absolutely no idea on what to do! He wasn't good with this cheering up thing; that was Yamamoto's department.

Why did this have to happen when he was starving, damn it?

Trying hard not to look down at his now emptier bento box and change his mind about the whole ordeal, Gokudera instead opted to text the very depressed Yamamoto still sulking outside. The young Italian knew he wasn't good with emotional confrontation, so maybe texting the idiot and pretending that nothing happened would work better. The silver-haired teen did just that, quickly typing in the first thing that came to his mind and sending it off. He then turned to look back out the window and nervously waited for his friend's reaction.

Holy crap, that text was sure taking its sweet freaking time! Maybe Yamamoto was ignoring his phone? Gokudera could sympathize. He probably would ignore his phone too if he had only used it minutes prior during an extremely heated argument. Damn it, why was he so nervous? He was acting like fretting school-girl!

Before Gokudera could scold himself for such disturbing actions, the teen saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Yamamoto had turned and was now looking at his jean's pocket in honest confusion. The taller boy looked like he was debating with himself for a moment before Gokudera saw him reach into his pocket and draw out his phone, flipping open the screen and scanning its contents. Was that the text he had just sent?


The moment Yamamoto felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket he had felt confused and apprehensive. The dark-haired teen debated with himself for a moment; what if that was his senpai texting him about the conversation they had just had? Yamamoto didn't know if he could take anymore anger and emotional doubts if that were the case.

Always being the one to look on the bright side of things, Yamamoto hoped for the best and retrieved his phone, flipping open the screen and opening the text message to see who it was from. The tall teen's soft-hazel eyes widened in surprise to note that the text had been sent from Gokudera instead. It read:

[fr: Gokudera]: Oi idiot you better get in here fast if you want your bento! I saw this fat lady in the corner eyeing it so you better get in here before I throw it at her 'cuz she's starting to creep me out! I'm not at fault for whatever happens to it, you got me?

Yamamoto blinked a couple of times in surprise, rereading the text again to make sure he had read it correctly. Before he could stop it, the mental image of Gokudera fending off a rabid salivating fat lady with his duffel bag and readying himself to throw his bento in her face, pushed its way to the front of his mind and the taller boy couldn't stop himself from laughing, completely forgetting about his previous troubles, if just for the moment.

Turning his head to peer through the window he was leaning against, he caught sight of his friend still sitting on the washer. At first, Gokudera seemed caught off guard by the taller boy looking at him but shortly after he did something that Yamamoto didn't expect, he waved at him. It was a tentative wave, like Gokudera was unsure of what he was doing or how to do it properly, but it was a friendly gesture none the less and Yamamoto couldn't stop the fluttery feeling rising in his chest. The taller boy's eyes softened as he waved back, a small smile making its way onto his lips. Before he could decide against it, Yamamoto threw his previous doubts to the back of his mind and decided to enjoy the time he had with his friend by going back inside the building. There Gokudera was waiting for him; his green eye's searching his for something Yamamoto wasn't sure about.

Feeling a little uncomfortable at the other boy's scrutiny, Yamamoto glanced around the laundry mat; his eye's picking up something amiss.

"Hey, Gokudera?" Yamamoto asked in confusion before he could stop himself. "Where is the fat lady you were talking about? I don't see her."

The older boy seemed to be caught off guard by that if his spluttering sounds were anything to go by; Yamamoto thought it was adorable.

"Well…um…" was Gokudera's intelligent reply. Unable to come up with an adequate response to the question, he just decided to ignore it. "W-Whatever, it doesn't matter you idiot! Just eat your food before I eat it myself!"

Yamamoto stared at Gokudera for a moment, gasping as he came to a conclusion. "Oh, so you're the fat lady Gokudera! Hahaha! Why didn't you just tell me that you would eat it in the first place?"

"What the hell did you just call me?" the fiery teen exclaimed at the taller boy's proclamation. Yamamoto just laughed at the silver-haired boy's expense, clutching his stomach from the bouts of honestly joyful laughter coursing through his body. Gokudera couldn't stay mad for long after that. Seeing Yamamoto back to his usual self sent such satisfying relief through him, Gokudera couldn't stop the small smile that broke through his usual scowling facade. "Idiot, just eat your food."

Yamamoto couldn't help but stare a little bit. Being graced with Gokudera's smile was such a rare gift the taller teen had to drink all of it in, burning it deep into his memory. Making sure not to upset the friendly mood that rarely occurred between them, Yamamoto quickly made his way to the washer and to his still hardly touched bento box. The dark-haired baseball player blinked in confusion upon seeing some fatty tuna placed within it. He clearly remembered eating all of his; they were the very first thing he had eaten the moment he had opened the box…

The taller boy's eyes widened in astonishment as a thought popped into his head. Feeling he understood what had just transpired while he was out of the store, he quickly glanced at his lunch partner for confirmation. Of course, Gokudera was looking anywhere but at him, focusing intently on his bento.

"Gokudera did you give me these?" Yamamoto asked softly, indicating the fatty tuna that had magically appeared back in his bento box.

The teen bomber choked on the mouthful of rice he had tried to swallow, trying and failing to hide the small blush that made its way onto his cheeks. "W-What the hell are you talking about? Why would I do that?"

"Well, I do specifically remember eating all of mine since fatty tuna is my favorite sushi and all." Yamamoto stated with a knowing smile. "So who else could know this and put some into my bento?"

Gokudera proceeded to blush a little harder and decided that staring at the door was far better than looking at his questioning friend. "Y-you're on something. What would be the point of me doing that? It's stupid."

"Were you trying to cheer me up?"

Shit! Caught red-handed! Why did Yamamoto have to be so perceptive? The silver-haired teen tried to seem imposing by glaring back at the taller teen but was caught off guard by the look in Yamamoto's eyes. He looked touched.

"You didn't have to do that you know." Yamamoto started, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He had a feeling that Gokudera had seen his exchange outside the window; it wouldn't have been so hard to notice after all. "I know you haven't eaten very well the last couple of days so how about I give you the rest of the eel sushi I have. I haven't touched those yet."

"Y-You don't have to do that you idiot." Gokudera stuttered, also a little touched by Yamamoto's generosity.

"Come on, I insist." Yamamoto urged, not wanting his friend to go hungry. He grabbed his chopsticks to start handing the eel over when he felt a hand grab his arm to stop him.

"Stop being a moron." Gokudera asserted with a firm steady gaze, preparing himself for what he was about to say. "Those were a g-gift, so just…take them and eat them. I don't want anything in return."

"Gokudera…" Yamamoto whispered in awe, amazed that Gokudera even admitted to doing something generous for him to make him feel better. A million different emotions hit Yamamoto all at once, almost leaving him breathless. He hardly remembered a time when Gokudera had done something nice for him. The dark-haired teen focused intently on the boy before him, light-hazel eyes boring into jade-green, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and touch the other boy's cheek, to bring him into a gentle kiss, to tell him the feelings he had been keeping inside for such a long time.

The silver-haired teen's breathe caught in his throat when Yamamoto's eyes met his, the taller boy's eyes dancing with so many different emotions that Gokudera couldn't even begin to discern one from the other. The older boy couldn't help but be mesmerized, he never realized how beautiful Yamamoto's eyes really were; he had always been so focused at keeping the younger boy at bay, afraid to let him in. The second after that thought hit him, Gokudera came to realize that the feeling he had before, the one where he felt nauseous and intrigued at the same time, was coming back in full force but for some reason couldn't find it in himself to care as he felt a strong urge to lean forward.

Both teens were oblivious to their surroundings, lost in a moment they never expected to have as they leaned forward, eyes half-closing on instinct, not truly comprehending on what was transpiring but not caring all the same.

Their lips were about an inch or so apart, their eyes almost completely closed, when they were brought out of their reverie by the loud buzzing of the washing machine they were sitting/leaning on. Eyes opening wide in surprise at the sound and quickly catching on to what had almost just happened, both boy's flew away from each other as if they were just punched in the face, Gokudera falling of the washer in the process. Flustered and blushing furiously, both boys stuttered uselessly and looked anywhere but at each other; both not failing to notice the distinct giggling of the college girls in the background.

Needing a distraction and fast, Gokudera proceeded to pick himself up of the floor and, placing Yamamoto's bento box and their drinks on the next washing machine, opened the washer that had thankfully stopped him from doing—stop thinking about that, stop thinking about that, stop thinking about that! Quickly grabbing his now wet clothes, Gokudera made his way over to the opposite wall towards the dryers, rudely cutting off the same old lady from before as he stole her drying machine, tossing in all his clothes in one massive heap.

During this time, the blush wouldn't leave Yamamoto's face as he berated himself for doing something so stupid. Would Gokudera hate him now? Why did he have to get so emotional over something so small? It was just sushi for crying out loud!

At the thought of sushi, Yamamoto's head perked up. He forgot that he was going to give Gokudera his eel sushi in exchange for the fatty tuna. Thinking of it as a way of an apology, Yamamoto made himself busy as well, placing the eel sushi into Gokudera's discarded bento that had fallen onto the floor with the teen (but thankfully hadn't spilled everywhere) after their almost kiss. At that thought, Yamamoto felt guilty for losing control over that situation and for also wishing it actually happened in the first place.

By this time, Gokudera was done putting his clothes in the dryer and starting it up with a couple pieces of change. He turned around to notice Yamamoto placing his eel sushi into his bento box and couldn't help the weird fluttering feeling it produced in his chest. What the hell was happening to him? Maybe he ate something weird? Yeah, that had to be it! Trying not to seem effected by what had almost transpired between them, Gokudera made his way back towards the washer, ignoring the weird looks people were giving him and a deathly glare from an old lady he didn't recognize (what was eating her? Maybe she was a homophobe?). Upon reaching the washing machine, the silver-haired teenager made himself busy with loading up the machine with a new set of clothes, completely emptying one of his duffel bags' contents.

After placing all of his whites in the washer with an adequate amount of soap and putting in the right amount of change, Gokudera prepared himself and peered over at his companion. The taller boy was leaning against the neighboring washer staring at his shoes and fiddling with his hands like he was unsure what to do with them. If Gokudera wasn't so distracted by…other things…he would have almost dared to say that the other teen was acting kind of…cute. Erasing such thoughts from his mind before he could think too much of them (thinking of anything that concerned his dark-haired friend was now considered too dangerous for his mind to handle), the silver-haired teen cleared his throat, not knowing any other way to break the awkward silence that had befallen them.

Almost jumping in surprise at the sudden sound, Yamamoto turned to stare at Gokudera who in turn, was nervously looking away again. Not sure on what to really do to appease the situation and get back on normal ground, Yamamoto did the only thing he could think of and handed Gokudera his lunch back, now with more eel sushi than before.

"You…didn't have to give me these you know." Gokudera meekly replied as he took back his bento, still refusing to look at Yamamoto's face.

"I-I know." The dark-haired teen stuttered back, also not meeting the others' eyes. "But I didn't want you to go hungry so…"

"Idiot." Gokudera stated almost affectionately, trying to return to his and Yamamoto's normal routine. Yamamoto was quick to catch onto this and replied with his usual demeanor, happy that his friend was quick to forgive and forget and not shun him for his actions.

"Ha ha, I guess I am but that doesn't stop you from hanging out with me!"

Gokudera rolled his eyes as he returned to his usual perch on top of the washer, grabbing his un-touched iced coffee in the process. "Whatever, let's just finish these up."

Returning to his place by the washer as well, Yamamoto made himself busy with his new fatty tuna. That's how both of the young mafia men continued with their lunch, both deciding to ignore what had transpired between them as if it never happened.

Yamamoto couldn't help but feel saddened at the thought.