Yay, chapter seven! Ugh, finally. This one really took me ages to come up with. Although I knew exactly what I was going to write from the very beginning, but then ideas started to popping up in my head, ideas that I just could not ignore, and therefore had to adapt the original story... so yeah, it took nearly a week of ideas, and two evenings of writing, and I'm still not quite satisfied, especially with the first part. *sigh* Well, if I start editing that stuff, it's only gonna get more confused and incoherent, so I decided to keep it like this. Hope you like it better than I do.
The lyrics used are the words of Another Day in Quicksand by In Flames. Disclaimer applied.
Chapter Seven: Pillows Don't Talk
...normally.
The other side of the platinum door
The front door of his house creaked slightly as he opened it. He'll have to oil the hinges later.
another day in quicksand
The asphalt under his feet felt like it could give away any moment as he made his way over the narrow path to the street.
Still feel close to nowhere
I hope this is the right way
His mind paid no attention to where he was going; he trusted his feet to know the way to the juudaime's house and then to school.
A super-hyperactive Yamamoto nearly bumped into him on the way. Again. Dismissed with a morning greeting and a casual insult, the yakyuu-baka strode the rest of the way next to him in silence.
How come you see me as an enemy?
We just think in different words
Was he hurt now? But he seemed surprised and disappointed yesterday, when no invectives were flung at him. And yet... no, it wasn't possible for him to know the meaning of being treated that way, the true meaning behind his words.
I see beauty in dead flowers
I let the tide show me what's next
But all you do is fade away
He had to struggle real hard to keep a hold on reality. After all, he hadn't slept for two days now. It seemed like everything around him was fading away, fading until he blinked and made sure it was real.
There's no shame in being the fool
I've been to places you'll never find
Yakyuu-baka... yes, he was still a yakyuu-baka... but that wasn't necessarily bad. He loved him for what he was; he loved him for being an airhead, a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, or just playing the fool because it was his way of facing things.
The empty plate that you call home
Won't bring glimmer to future years
He twitched a bit when he remembered the Yamamoto of the future. Sure, he was amazingly strong and admirably skilled, but... but those eyes filled with the pain of loss... Would he still able to face things with ignorant pretence...? Was he still the same, the one he loved and cherished in secrecy?
By myself, staring into space
You're just bored of the silence it makes
The silence stretched between them heavily as they walked. It was not a pleasant silence, though. It was the kind of silence that weighed down and lay heavily burdening their shoulders, pressing down and lowering their already near-bottom spirits. The way to the Sawada household was never before that long.
Exactly as the day before, Gokudera managed to put up a façade of his normal self just in time before facing Tsuna – however, his mask was now even less convincing and even the tenth generation Vongola boss could see that was not how he truly felt. Even so, he did not dare ask directly; he knew that if it was anything of his concern, his friend would let him know when he'll be ready – otherwise, he'll struggle to solve it all by himself, just like he always did. The juudaime merely hoped that the bomber would learn to rely more on the family soon.
Yamamoto, on the other side, kept throwing worried glances over to the silver-head anytime he dared to steal a look. He, as well, would not ask directly – at least not just yet, and not in front of everyone. Even though, by the time they passed a bunch of freshmen he'd normally threatened to blow up because they were obstructing the juudaime's path, nearly everyone knew very well that something was not right – for the intimidating teen had not even bothered to say a single word, and even curved the traverse of his path to avoid one of them.
The baseball freak sighed in disdain. He was still blaming himself for Gokudera's current state, as he had not witnessed anything else that could have upset him... but he couldn't think of a way to make it right again. Of course, he knew he was most likely never to have him, but at least he had him as a friend until now; even if it looked like more of a one-sided relationship, the storm guardian proved otherwise in a few very, very rare moments.
Walking beside each other, and yet entire universes away, they reached the school gate – just in time, or so it seemed. A few steps away they were when they realised the bell was going to ring anytime now – and darted towards the school entrance. Yamamoto and Gokudera, both agile and fast-reacting, managed to get past the door just in time, while Tsuna stepped on his untied shoelace and tripped spectacularly, burying his nose in the asphalt right in front of the school entrance.
And as if that itself wasn't enough, Hibari Kyouya decided to make his entrance to the scene at that exact time.
A satisfied smile curled his lips slightly, making him look even more threatening than normally. No, it wasn't a good thing if Hibari Kyouya smiled. Especially not if you have just broken a few school rules and regulations.
"You're late, herbivore."
The scaredy-cat Tsuna started retreating backwards, at the same time crying out: "Aaah, I'm so sorry, Hibari-san, it won't happen again, please don't bite me to death!"
His two companions chose wisely to remain silent until the shadow king of Namimori declares his righteous punishment.
"Hm?"
He sounded satisfied, all to satisfied.
"Sawada Tsunayoshi, you are in breach of the second article of the rule #23 of Namimori Middle School Rules and Regulation. Your punishment will take place during lunchtime in the school gym."
With that said, he walked away, leaving the three frozen in silence for a few seconds before they made their way to the classroom hastily. Really, they were all surprised at how Tsuna was let off with such a light punishment – mopping the gym floor during lunchtime was the least...
No one ever considered the possibility that the chairman of the Disciplinary Committee merely wanted him out of the way – for what egoistic purpose would that serve, after all?
The classes passed rapidly, with none of the three being able to concentrate on the lessons – Gokudera's head was already way too filled with thoughts and words, Yamamoto kept stealing worried gazes towards him, and Tsuna could never understand exactly what the teacher was saying anyway. Before they knew it, it was lunchtime already, and Tsuna waved them a hasty good-bye as he darted towards the gym, panicking about the possible penalties he'd receive if he would happen to be late for the execution of his punishment.
"So, eh, Gokudera, wanna eat together? We can go to the rooftop, it's really nice and-"
"Whatever."
Yamamoto was taken aback as Gokudera cut him off nonchalantly, and even more surprised when he actually followed him to the rooftop without complaints. Of course, he regarded the absence of Tsuna as an ideal chance for him to be alone with the storm guardian, and maybe, maybe even find out what was bothering him, but he truly did not expect it to go so smoothly...
However, everything merely confirmed his concerns that something was truly troubling the silver-haired teen to no end – he ate the offered sushi his father prepared without a single complaint (as always, more than enough for two or even three people), and didn't waste his breath for a single insult. But as much as it worried him, it eased his consciousness and lifted his hopes that maybe after all he had not absolutely destroyed their friendship.
He kept smiling and laughing, twice as much as he would normally – after all, he had to smile for Gokudera as well.
Even though his schoolmate kept silent most of the time, it wasn't the same silence that stretched between them in the morning – no, this was different; it was a calm, soothing silence that somehow connected them without a single word uttered.
With their meal finished, they had nothing to do but relax and wait till the end of the lunch break. The light breeze gently swept lonesome strands of their hair into air, while the late spring sun heat made them all drowsy – and so it was that Gokudera decided to sleep.
Without a warning, he let his upper body fall, leaning against his raven-haired classmate's chest, earning a surprised gasp from his newly found cushion. He moved a bit, left and right, searching for the best pose, like a cat that would seek its sleeping place in a man's lap. His emerald eyes were long closed, and as his head tilted to the side, against the baseball ace's shoulder, it seemed like he was already asleep.
"G-Gokudera..?"
Yamamoto panicked.
Totally panicked.
Gokudera leaning against him, almost sleeping in his lap – there was no way that would ever happen in reality! But he wasn't dreaming. No, that was for certain.
Then... he must've been drugged! Was that why he was behaving so oddly...? But he didn't seem like a drugged person... Although, Takeshi couldn't really tell, since he never saw a drugged person before.
"Um, Gokudera?" he tried again.
The addressed grunted. Obviously, the cat was not yet quite asleep.
"Shut up. I haven't slept for two days."
So he wasn't drugged after all, just insomniac? Ah, he really had dark circles under his eyes, now that he mentioned... Truly, despite the worrisome content, the answer made Yamamoto somewhat relieved.
"Besides, pillows don't talk."
The baseball ace smiled happily at the retort. It seemed that his friend was still enough of himself to come up with something to shut him up. And, if he wasn't drugged, and if he wasn't unaware of his actions and surroundings... well, then, it wouldn't be exploitation of a helpless man if he just stayed where he was, would it be?
Familiar warmth spread through his body as he listened to the even breathing of now-so-much-cat-alike Gokudera, and he cautiously, careful not to wake up the delicate more-or-less-Italian placed his arms around him protectively. He had him exactly where he wanted to, although the circumstances weren't exactly what he had expected – but nothing changed the fact that he could hardly be happier at this moment.
At the same time, the tenth generation Vongola boss was willowing in despair over the lacquered floor of the Namimori Middle gym. He really needed to change his habits; waking up too late, chasing Lambo all over the house to get his breakfast back, only to have it snatched from right under his nose by Reborn, and then running halfway towards the school... That was one unhealthy way of living. But after all, this whole mafia business was.
"Herbivore, have I permitted you to take a break?"
A threatening voice from above reminded him of his task, and he hurried back to mopping the floor spotless clean, as he was ordered. He might've been the Boss, and Hibari-san one of his Guardians, but as long as they were on his territory, Hibari was the law. No one defies Hibari Kyouya and stays alive.
The above mentioned prefect had been enjoying his lunch break several floors higher, on the shelf of one of the open windows just beneath the gym's ceiling. With the wind ruffling his hair, and the tiny sunshine-yellow birdie perched safely on his shoulder, he looked like a depiction of an exotic god of wind or something among those lines. A curious glint was in his eyes, perfectly complementing the naughty smile dancing on his lips.
His ears might've been paying attention to the unfortunate victim of his experiment, ensuring that the swish-swish-mop-mop did not cease, while his gaze was locked on the rooftop of the central building of his beloved school.
As always, he had been pulling strings, and as always, the results pleased and amused him even better than expected.
As the bell rang, Yamamoto knew his ten minutes of heaven were over. The break ended, and the next period was science – the test that they all feared, well, all except the one he was currently holding in his arms. He liked the thought; and yet, knew well enough that he'd have to interrupt the sleeping beauty's slumber.
Cautious as always, he unclenched the embrace before attempting to wake up the sleeping silver-head; if the bomber woke up in a mood closer to his normal self, he was in for a beating for taking advantage of a sleeping man incapable of defending himself anyway, and he surely won't do anything to make it worse.
Slowly, he started to nudge the smaller man.
"Gokudera... Gokudera, you have to wake up now..."
"Nnghh... five minutes more..."
He's like a child... The generously tanned guardian smiled at the lithe posture of the teen curled up against his chest. He surely made him want to hold him and never let him go, and that was the most decent of his thoughts when he traced the curves of his lean body.
"Oi, Gokudera, you really have to wake up, we're having a test now, we can't skip-"
"Shut up."
Yamamoto was about to protest, and go on how they really cannot skip this period since they're writing a test, as his futile attempts to object ended in a muffled "-nngh" as Gokudera rotated, pushing himself up in his lap to position himself more comfortably, subconsciously pressing against a certain rather sensitive spot on the baseball ace's body.
The storm guardian seemed to have fallen asleep once again, and Yamamoto gave up hesitantly, yet with a smile. It seemed fate had blessed him with a double dose of happiness, and he started thinking that maybe, maybe even... Gokudera actually liked being held by him... at least he looked like he was rather comfortable, the faintest of smiles tugging on his lips as he kept on napping in the sun.
It seemed that even Hibari strangely disappeared somewhere; for normally, he would be the one on the roof at this time, and anyone not in class would be on their way to get bitten to death by one or both of his tonfas, depending on how resistant they'd prove to be.
Hours passed, the bell rang again and again, while Gokudera slept soundly, cuddled in Yamamoto's lap, cradled in a safe embrace of his muscular arms, leaning against his chest – it was as if they were made to be that way, like they fit together like two blocks of Lego, two pieces of a jigsaw; every single limb has its place where it fit perfectly.
Even Yamamoto fell asleep after a while, drowsy from the warm sun and tired from constant practice he had been undergoing lately – and they slept, entangled with each other in a perfectly fitting embrace, for hours motionlessly on the rooftop.
It wasn't until five in the afternoon that they woke up.
The first one to regain consciousness was Yamamoto; his first thought was that he just missed his baseball practice, and the second, that came together with the realisation whom it was he held in his arms, was that he didn't care at all.
Less than a minute afterwards, as if he had sensed his pillow's breathing had abandoned its even pace of shallow breaths, the silver-haired bomber that was now far from intimidating, opened his jade eyes, still hazy from sleep, and looked up at his amber-eyed mattress.
He froze in place. It took him several moments to realise what happened, and even when he did, he couldn't avert his gaze. He had never been so close to the sun-kissed face before, and the wide pools of soothing warmth locked him in place like a spell. The words his sister said to him last night echoed through his mind; show him how you feel, hold him close and never let him go... And yet, he couldn't move a limb.
Behind those pools of amber, however, was just another uncertain teen fearing that his feelings would be rejected. But as a second passed, and yet another one, without Gokudera moving as much as a single muscle, his fears subsided. He wasn't hitting him, he wasn't resisting, he was just... staring at him. And not glaring; no, merely staring at him.
The raven-haired teen couldn't determine any feelings from his face; it was like a riddle to him. However, the mere half an inch between their faces soon erased his fears and concerns.
Actually, the tempting closeness erased mostly everything from his mind.
Gokudera smelled slightly of nicotine, gunpowder and cats; somewhere beneath, he could sense the fragrance of orchid-scented soap, mixing with the whiffs of everything he passed that day, the most distinct of them his morning toast and coffee.
Staring in his jade eyes the depth of a hidden half-ice-covered mountain lake, he found himself dizzy as he kept losing himself in the spiral current that drew him deeper, closer...
Before he knew what he was doing, their lips connected.
Softly, gently, like he was asking for permission first, he covered the luscious lips of the part-Italian cradled in his arms.
He pictured this moment in his mind for a thousand times, and yet it still took him by surprise. The storm guardian's lips were soft and simply... perfect. It was like... it was like fireworks. Yes, like fireworks would blast off in the sky into thousands of breath-taking sparkles the moment their lips finally touched after such yearning for each other...
No sign of resistance, none of encouragement either.
One of his hands reached up to caress the porcelain-like chin, tracing the jawbone to the ear and onwards, fingers entangling into the silver strands of perfect silk, while he deepened the kiss in insatiable hunger for those savoury lips.
Gokudera tasted faintly of cinnamon, and of nicotine and coffee mixed into one addictive taste even a top-class chef of French cuisine would be proud of.
He still didn't seem to resist, and that was more than enough of encouragement for Yamamoto.
Hungrily, he nibbled his lower lip, and probed the hardly shut lips with his tongue, as if asking permission, a ticket to enter his mouth. Maybe a tad hesitantly, Gokudera complied, which was the first move he had made since he woke up. Slowly, he was getting a grip on his senses – it might've been easier if it wasn't for the intrusive tongue that explored the depths of his mouth, and played with his own lithe extremity that he soon, to his surprise, found rather responsive.
None of them was really thinking of what they were doing.
Maybe that could explain the expression of absolute shock that reigned over the storm guardian's face when his raven-haired classmate pulled back and grinned at him.
Maybe that could explain why the sunny smile etched on the rain guardian's face faded to a bitter grimace as soon as he noticed the shock of his beloved.
Maybe that could explain why he whispered the words he shouldn't have.
"I'm... sorry."
And maybe that could explain why the currently-so-uncharacteristically-gentle-looking bomber stood up, shouted "IDIOT!" and stormed away.
The former pillow, left behind lonesome on the rooftop of the deserted school, bathing in the afternoon light, left his head tilt forth in defeat.
"Now I really blew it, didn't I?"
He laughed, laughed like a madman, until his bitter laughs contorted into cries of pain.
To be continued~
Yes, I shall torture them a bit more. Nyahahahaha :3
Thank you for reading, reviews are much appreaciated. Also, if you feel that I strayed away or did a bat move /left out a good opportunity within the story, let me know, I'd be grateful for a constructive critique.