Reborn Drabble (Sharing Scars)
Title: Sharing Scars
Series: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: 8059
Rating: PG-13 (for some implied sex)
Notes: Damn, I haven't written in a long time. The other epic I'm writing has pretty much sapped me of any inspiration elsewhere - 60 pages already. But this little one I had sitting on my hard drive for a while, so I thought Why not?
K. Sharing Scars
He knows everything about his partner. Physically, at least.
He knows about the little pockmark on the side of his thigh where a bullet's lodged itself before, digging deep into muscle and flesh. Yamamoto received it from a man who'd gotten a little lucky that day, until his head got blown off by one of yours-truly's bombs.
He knows about the scar over one shoulder, his first real lasting mark on that corded body, courtesy of Squalo. He's traced it with his fingers, feeling the edges dip smoothly into the darker shade of the wound's path itself. It never did completely heal over, even with Dino's expert medical facilities.
He knows about the burn on Yamamoto's stomach, an ugly blotch of purple-brown when he'd first been carted back to headquarters, now just a dull sort of shadow vaguely shaped like a lopsided butterfly. It used to trail up over Yamamoto's upper ribs, but that's gone now, except for the smooth upraising bump where stitches used to be, and have long since dissolved.
He knows the callouses of Yamamoto's palm, those gentle digits that nevertheless feel so rough to the touch when they brush his cheek or clasp his hand. The roughest parts are in the first section of fingers where the cords of Kintoki scrape, still slightly red even after all of these years. After they'd gotten back from Ten Years Later, Yamamoto had trained until his hands bled. Gokudera had scolded him until he ran out of insults and breath, but when the swordsman still looked as if he had nothing left, that uncharacteristic face that looked as if he was about to burst into tears, Gokudera finally closed the distance between them and vowed harshly that he would trust his life and the 10th's life into those roughed and running hands in a heartbeat.
He knows there are lines up his arms, too numerous to count, some of which have been childhood accidents, other deeper ones knife stabs, or bullet entries. The flesh there is bumpy, especially for the long, long cut up the inside of his arm. The foolish mistake of an amateur, getting caught - but Yamamoto has always been cautious afterwards, trusting his instincts, trusting the rest of the Guardians. Still, every time he looks down these remind him he can't afford to be careless again.
There are many more lines, bumps, scabbed over wounds, bruises and scrapes, some that fade and others that don't. Gokudera knows them all - he's mapped them with his hands, he's patched them himself, he's pressed his lips to them and watched that smile spread slowly across his lover's face despite the pain. There are many more to come - that much he knows.
He takes comfort, though, that his partner has no scars on his back.
-------------
He knows everything about his partner. Physically, at least.
He knows that there's a scar that runs from shoulder to collarbone like some half-formed collar. A mysterious acquisition indeed, because he doesn't recall Gokudera ever being on any particularly dangerous assignments right before. The bomber himself refuses to tell him - so like many other things, Yamamoto lets it go with a laugh. He finds the courage then to ask Tsuna about it later.
He knows that there are three bullet holes right over his heart in a perfect little triangle shape where Gokudera was stupid and got himself caught by the Calcassa Family when he was twenty. Yamamoto knows this one because he was sent to retrieve him - alone. It was hard but then again not so hard when he thought about it - it was easy to get angry, easy to channel that anger, and by then, easy to kill. After that Gokudera set the charges and they rode off in the helicopter as the warehouse burst into brilliant fireworks, along with all the evidence. Case closed.
He knows that there is a strange ovalish birthmark on the inside of Gokudera's thigh. It's handy, because it also marks the spot where the bomber is the most ticklish.
He knows a lot of Gokudera's wounds aren't even on the surface - they're inside, tearing up his organs and ribs, choking his throat and his actions until he doesn't even feel human anymore. That's when the swordsman drags him outside and reminds him that sun and air and a life outside of his office still exist, and can even be enjoyable if Gokudera would just let go for a little while.
He knows the callouses of Gokudera's hands, rough from dynamite and cold mechanics, from steel and computers that the bomber tinkers around with in his spare time. He feels the weight of those hands, that trust, every time Gokudera touches him on the shoulder or on the knee. His eyes are almost always serious, even in laughter, always a little haunted. Those are wounds that Yamamoto can't touch, cuts that heal so slowly that sometimes the swordsman despairs of them healing at all.
He knows there is a long scar along the vein just like his, from before he met Tsuna. The first thing Yamamoto did when they fell into bed together was trace it with his tongue until Gokudera shivered, mouth open and panting. The swordsman considered that one fully healed.
There are many more miniscule traces of abuse here and there - bruises from training, papercuts from documents, scars here and there, never visible except in casual situations. It is nowhere near the multitude of marks he bears from fighting in the field every day, though - but then again, Gokudera always has a headache. He has no time to be a child anymore, and more the pity, because Yamamoto always thought he was beautiful when he smiled as a boy. If only he had the time to prove the same as an adult...but wishes abounded in this family, more than could be counted or heard, for sure.
He does take comfort, though, in the fact that his partner bears no scars on his back.
-------
Aaaaand....the doujinshi I wanted at Mandarake lowered its price and then sold out. DAMMIT. If I'm not getting my early Christmas present then NOBODY'S getting their early Christmas present!!! *screamhowlbitch*
Anyways, thanks for reading :DDD
Series: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: 8059
Rating: PG-13 (for some implied sex)
Notes: Damn, I haven't written in a long time. The other epic I'm writing has pretty much sapped me of any inspiration elsewhere - 60 pages already. But this little one I had sitting on my hard drive for a while, so I thought Why not?
K. Sharing Scars
He knows everything about his partner. Physically, at least.
He knows about the little pockmark on the side of his thigh where a bullet's lodged itself before, digging deep into muscle and flesh. Yamamoto received it from a man who'd gotten a little lucky that day, until his head got blown off by one of yours-truly's bombs.
He knows about the scar over one shoulder, his first real lasting mark on that corded body, courtesy of Squalo. He's traced it with his fingers, feeling the edges dip smoothly into the darker shade of the wound's path itself. It never did completely heal over, even with Dino's expert medical facilities.
He knows about the burn on Yamamoto's stomach, an ugly blotch of purple-brown when he'd first been carted back to headquarters, now just a dull sort of shadow vaguely shaped like a lopsided butterfly. It used to trail up over Yamamoto's upper ribs, but that's gone now, except for the smooth upraising bump where stitches used to be, and have long since dissolved.
He knows the callouses of Yamamoto's palm, those gentle digits that nevertheless feel so rough to the touch when they brush his cheek or clasp his hand. The roughest parts are in the first section of fingers where the cords of Kintoki scrape, still slightly red even after all of these years. After they'd gotten back from Ten Years Later, Yamamoto had trained until his hands bled. Gokudera had scolded him until he ran out of insults and breath, but when the swordsman still looked as if he had nothing left, that uncharacteristic face that looked as if he was about to burst into tears, Gokudera finally closed the distance between them and vowed harshly that he would trust his life and the 10th's life into those roughed and running hands in a heartbeat.
He knows there are lines up his arms, too numerous to count, some of which have been childhood accidents, other deeper ones knife stabs, or bullet entries. The flesh there is bumpy, especially for the long, long cut up the inside of his arm. The foolish mistake of an amateur, getting caught - but Yamamoto has always been cautious afterwards, trusting his instincts, trusting the rest of the Guardians. Still, every time he looks down these remind him he can't afford to be careless again.
There are many more lines, bumps, scabbed over wounds, bruises and scrapes, some that fade and others that don't. Gokudera knows them all - he's mapped them with his hands, he's patched them himself, he's pressed his lips to them and watched that smile spread slowly across his lover's face despite the pain. There are many more to come - that much he knows.
He takes comfort, though, that his partner has no scars on his back.
-------------
He knows everything about his partner. Physically, at least.
He knows that there's a scar that runs from shoulder to collarbone like some half-formed collar. A mysterious acquisition indeed, because he doesn't recall Gokudera ever being on any particularly dangerous assignments right before. The bomber himself refuses to tell him - so like many other things, Yamamoto lets it go with a laugh. He finds the courage then to ask Tsuna about it later.
He knows that there are three bullet holes right over his heart in a perfect little triangle shape where Gokudera was stupid and got himself caught by the Calcassa Family when he was twenty. Yamamoto knows this one because he was sent to retrieve him - alone. It was hard but then again not so hard when he thought about it - it was easy to get angry, easy to channel that anger, and by then, easy to kill. After that Gokudera set the charges and they rode off in the helicopter as the warehouse burst into brilliant fireworks, along with all the evidence. Case closed.
He knows that there is a strange ovalish birthmark on the inside of Gokudera's thigh. It's handy, because it also marks the spot where the bomber is the most ticklish.
He knows a lot of Gokudera's wounds aren't even on the surface - they're inside, tearing up his organs and ribs, choking his throat and his actions until he doesn't even feel human anymore. That's when the swordsman drags him outside and reminds him that sun and air and a life outside of his office still exist, and can even be enjoyable if Gokudera would just let go for a little while.
He knows the callouses of Gokudera's hands, rough from dynamite and cold mechanics, from steel and computers that the bomber tinkers around with in his spare time. He feels the weight of those hands, that trust, every time Gokudera touches him on the shoulder or on the knee. His eyes are almost always serious, even in laughter, always a little haunted. Those are wounds that Yamamoto can't touch, cuts that heal so slowly that sometimes the swordsman despairs of them healing at all.
He knows there is a long scar along the vein just like his, from before he met Tsuna. The first thing Yamamoto did when they fell into bed together was trace it with his tongue until Gokudera shivered, mouth open and panting. The swordsman considered that one fully healed.
There are many more miniscule traces of abuse here and there - bruises from training, papercuts from documents, scars here and there, never visible except in casual situations. It is nowhere near the multitude of marks he bears from fighting in the field every day, though - but then again, Gokudera always has a headache. He has no time to be a child anymore, and more the pity, because Yamamoto always thought he was beautiful when he smiled as a boy. If only he had the time to prove the same as an adult...but wishes abounded in this family, more than could be counted or heard, for sure.
He does take comfort, though, in the fact that his partner bears no scars on his back.
-------
Aaaaand....the doujinshi I wanted at Mandarake lowered its price and then sold out. DAMMIT. If I'm not getting my early Christmas present then NOBODY'S getting their early Christmas present!!! *screamhowlbitch*
Anyways, thanks for reading :DDD