incomplete.

[untracked]

Who: Yamamoto Takeshi (sereins) and Gokudera Hayato (untracked).
What: Your typical rendezvous, with a side-helping of RAGE because Yamamoto was being an idiot.
Where: ... scre. LET'S SAY FOUNTAIN.
When: Night time?! Wao, do these guys NEVER SLEEP.

Comments

[sereins]

This was beginning to become a bit of a habit.

Then again, it was a habit that Yamamoto knowingly brought on himself, because he did this, right. Because it was what he was good at, but beyond that, it had something to do with the fact that -- well, Gokudera liked to take too many things too seriously sometimes, and that wasn't particularly healthy. It wasn't like he could blame him, though, and it wasn't like he was all that surprised, either. It was just who he was. It was apart of everything he'd learned. It was ingrained into his being, and everything that made him whole, and Yamamoto got that.

But it didn't change shit, really, didn't make anything any different, and he waited patiently for the other to find him, just like he'd done in the past. It never seemed to take as long as he always expected it to, and maybe that had something to do with Gokudera being especially perceptive when he was fueled by annoyance and rage. Still, he'd been expecting at least a five minute head start, and when Gokudera slammed into the house where he was currently scrubbing the blood from his jacket, a flicker of genuine surprise might have passed over his features.

And then it was gone as soon as it'd appeared, and he glanced absently over his shoulder, fingers curled in the wet fabric of his jacket as he watched the other approach.

"It's good to see you, too," he said, and it was followed by a predictable laugh. He turned his attention back to his jacket, then, back to the bloodstained sink. He'd forgotten how goddamn hard it was to get blood out of clothing. "That was quick."

Gokudera's words registered, of course, and he wasn't surprised by that, either. He'd never been the type to overlook anything, no matter the situation he was thrown into, and it was only natural that he'd want to know what the fuck it was that was going on, exactly. It was too bad, maybe, that Yamamoto still didn't really have all the answers, and that he was still just as lost as he'd been the day he first arrived here.

It was funny, really.

He brushed the flecks of blood from the tops of his hands, before his fingers latched around the faucet handle to the sink to shut it off.

[untracked]

Gokudera had never been particularly perceptive whenever annoyance and rage clouded his mind. On the contrary, he was the exact opposite, never thinking things through, charging right ahead without any second doubts, second thoughts, because common sense had been shoved right off the steering wheel to give way to a lack of thinking. Right now was a classic example, but the difference with this was- he wasn't going to get his ass handed over to him if he made a mistake. There weren't any mistakes to make to begin with anyway.

Because it was Yamamoto, right, Guardian of Rain of the Vongola Family, the baseball freak, and even if he was older, he was still the same guy. Still the same idiot. What was the worst that could happen? Not that Gokudera really wanted to know.

(It's almost pathetic, he thinks, the way he's worrying about something like this.)

But now that he faced him, now that he was right there in front of him, Gokudera had to raise an eyebrow- he saw that bloodied jacket, saw the bloodied sink, you would have to be a complete moron to miss it. A part of him wanted to know, what happened, where did you get that, why is there blood all over your hands and the fabric of your expensive blazer (you're a goddamn idiot if you think washing it off with water is going to work), but then another part of him couldn't care any less. Yamamoto was ten years older, should know by then how to take care of himself, and what he did with his free time was really none of Gokudera's business as long as it didn't compromise the Tenth's safety.

So he never asked about it. The only sign that hinted he even noticed was a mild scoff, and that was it. It was time to get right down to business.

Business that Yamamoto blatantly avoided.

"I didn't ask for propriety," he said, eyes narrowing while he closed the distance between the two of them. He stopped just when he was about a few strides away from the older man, glaring with that glare of his, arms crossed, always so impatient. "I told you to tell me everything." And if Yamamoto knew what was good for him, Gokudera added mentally, he was going to do as he was told. Older or not, Gokudera was still the right hand man, and after he got the information he wanted, they could go back to being- whatever the hell they were without the mafia background attached.

Of course, it already occured to him that maybe Yamamoto didn't have all the answers, and that was fine, that was just fine. Gokudera only needed what he knew, and that was enough- at least he would have something to start with. It was always better than being thrown right into a lion's cage without a chair to protect yourself with.