Yamamoto is only concerned for Gokudera’s health. Gokudera really doesn’t appreciate this at all. Written for the Drabble Game prompt: TYL!Gokudera, quit smoking.
“I am going,” Hayato said, low and deadly, “to kill you.”
Yamamoto just smiled, the bastard, cheery as if Hayato had offered to take him on a fucking picnic. “Okay.”
Companion to Lys ap Adin’s "Bloodsport"; a series of linked shorts that follows Gokudera, Yamamoto and Tsuna after the end. Lots of fang-sex, a bit of humor, and a smidge of crack thrown in at the end.
There was always the risk, when the doorbell rang after dark these days, that it would be another thrilling moment of flight come calling, so Hayato was already scowling when he opened the door. It was good to get off on the right foot. What stood there tonight wasn’t an invitation to airsickness, but the scowl didn’t go to waste.
After a hard workout, some privacy finally leads Gokudera and Yamamoto to a significant intimacy. Takes place some time between Comfort Food and Going Back Someday.
Gokudera hissed when he tried to reach his back with the sponge and Takeshi looked up from rinsing his hair and shook his head at the black and blue starting across Gokudera’s ribs and shoulders. "You’re going to have a lot of bruises."
"Yeah, I got that part," Gokudera grumbled, twisting gingerly on the bath stool.
Gokudera thinks it’s unfair how good Yamamoto looks on a motorcycle; Yamamoto thinks it’s the perfect opportunity. Written for DW’s inaugural comment porn meme with the prompt: Yamamoto/Gokudera, motorcycles as aphrodisiacs.
It was easier, Hayato decided, when Yamamoto was actually driving the motorcycle. And it was easier because Yamamoto was an idiot, and liked to do silly, flashy moves, and it was easy to roll his eyes at someone popping a wheelie and laughing like a kid.
The hard part was when Yamamoto was holding still on the damn thing. And the hardest part was keeping his eyes away from long, long legs spread casually over a sleek machine and not, not, looking at the way worn denim pulled taut over Yamamoto’s thighs.
Gokudera has a stressful day and wants Yamamoto to help him unwind, which Yamamoto is perfectly happy to do.
Hayato closed the door to his office carefully, breathing deep and slow.
"That didn’t go very well," Takeshi observed from where he stood looking out the window.
"No. It didn’t," Hayato said, with what he thought was a commendable lack of screaming rage, under the circumstances. He hung his jacket on a chair and undid his tie with short, precise movements, eyes narrowed at empty air.
Yamamoto comes to visit Gokudera and they navigate around their trust and need for each other–indirectly as always.
"Takeshi?" He blinked, hands full of his front door and his math textbook, neither free to adjust his reading glasses the way he felt a momentary need to.
"Hey." Takeshi leaned in the doorway, grinning. "Thought it was about time I stopped in for a visit."
After over a month away. Hayato sniffed, but stood aside for him. "I suppose you might as well come in, yes."
Gokudera is sick and being stubborn, and Yamamoto decides to step in.
Warning: May cause tooth decay. To prevent cavities, brush thoroughly after every reading.
"’mb fide," Gokudera muttered around his wad of handkerchief. It hadn’t moved far all day, but when it had his nose had looked absolutely raw. "Not goig to slack off by job ’cause of a code."
Takeshi sighed and made a note to himself that Gokudera got more stubborn and foul-tempered when he was sick. He wouldn’t have thought it was possible if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes.
Gokudera’s trust issues are Yamamoto’s new hobby; he has his work cut out for him.
"Delivery!" Takeshi called, cheerfully, banging on Gokudera’s door. It took a few minutes for Gokudera to answer the door, and another for him to finish staring in disbelief.
"What are you doing?"
"Bringing you dinner." Takeshi dangled the bag of carryout from raised fingers.
Yamamoto decides Gokudera is broken and needs to be fixed. It takes a while to find the right opening.
Gokudera’s constant growling had always kind of amused him, and he admitted that every now and then he sort of poked Gokudera just to get him going. Like playing with a cat; a few scratches were fair trade for getting to watch it flail at you. Actually, Gokudera reminded him a lot of a cat, sometimes, a feral cat that would only let one person pet him without biting, and that person was Tsuna. Even when they’d just met it had made Takeshi wonder a little how often Gokudera must have gotten kicked, to be that way, and now he was wondering more seriously.
What if the box weapon maker wanted more funds? What sells better than weapons? Box sex toys!
"You didn’t actually ask what they did?"
"Oh, come on, Koenig always names the boxes bizarre things."
"Yes, but… ‘Purple Ecstasy’?"
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