Reborn fic: "Digital Love, Part II"
Title: Digital Love
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 8059
Rating: R
Notes: see Part I.
Digital Love (Part II)
(2010.08.14)
Gokudera woke to the trace of fingers against his cheek, calloused and gentle. "Wake up," Yamamoto coaxed, and he opened his eyes to meet light brown ones flecked with gold in the sunlight. The other Guardian smiled, long lashes perfectly curved against the round of his cheek, and for a moment Gokudera drank in that sight of smooth skin and pink lips, and felt the sensation of his heart splintering just a little more.
"Wha'timezzit?" he muttered sourly.
Yamamoto was undeterred. "Seven. But let's not go anywhere." The hologram's lips left nowhere untouched: the curve of one silver brow, the flutter of Gokudera's eyelashes, the point of that patrician's nose. And finally, a quick peck to Gokudera's mouth before he kissed each of the fingertips on Gokudera's left hand individually, finally nuzzling his nose into his palm. "Gokudera...," he murmured, voice trailing off as he traced the inside of Gokudera's arm reverently.
Gently Gokudera extricated himself, ignoring Yamamoto's whine of protest. "I have to go," he murmured, and slipped on the outfit he'd left on the floor of the room so it didn't get shifted with the hologram. The pants and shirt that he'd originally thought of wearing were too loose now, so he had to go out yesterday to buy some more. He slipped those on now, studiously not looking at the figure reclined on the bed.
Only when he was done preparing himself in the mirror did he look back towards the bed. Yamamoto was still there, watching him, arms wrapped haphazardly around Gokudera's pillow. As Gokudera watched, Yamamoto snuggled down further into the bed, seemingly content to lazily watch his partner forever.
A lump rose in Gokudera's throat at the sight. Sometimes when he was in this damn room, it just felt so real, like he could reach out and just...make it his. Come home to this room or some room like this every day to find Yamamoto there looking at him with such trust.
"Computer, deactivate 226125." And Yamamoto disappeared from the bed. Gokudera clapped twice and the whole thing disappeared to leave behind the sterile white lights and whitewashed walls of the hologram room. The watch on his wrist told him it was five in the morning, right on time.
He washed his face in one of the regular restrooms and drove with Ryohei to the wedding site. There he and Kyoko gave directions to all the florists, caterers, decorators, clergymen, specialists and influx of guests that started to trickle in.
By noon and the time the wedding was supposed to start the sun was beating high in the sky and Gokudera was exhausted. Though he knew Kyoko had nibbled a cream-pan all morning, unsurprisingly he hadn't had the appetite to stomach anything. He drank some tea before he went into the men's dressing room.
Yamamoto was there, fixing all of the boutonnieres on various guests' jackets, and looked far too relieved when Gokudera came in. "There you are! I thought you might still be outside, but I wasn't sure. Isn't the best man supposed to do all of this stuff? Nevermind, just come here and lemme pin it on for you." After doing it for a dozen different other guests Yamamoto seemed to have gotten used to pinning them, so it was a space of a second's closeness before the Family swordsman jerked back again to see. "Perfect!"
"Yeah," Gokudera echoed numbly. There was still some part of him that couldn't believe he was here, and there was another part of him that couldn't believe there was a part of him that couldn't believe he hadn't stopped this damn thing before now.
There was a beat of real hesitation where Yamamoto took on Gokudera's arm (still in a sling) and the way he still got short of breath sometimes, but abruptly he shook the doubts out of his head and smiled brightly. Gokudera, having been around the idiot for so long, knew it was moot to point out how fake it was. "Anyways, here," Yamamoto offered him the little black box.
That was the only thing that Yamamoto had prepared, and looking at it Gokudera honestly couldn't tell what if there was anything special about it. It was just a regular old ring, platinum gold, with a big white stone in the middle.
Yet it still felt as if there was some giant baby playing trampoline on top of his heart. This really is it, he thought, this really is the end.
Too soon the people were collected, and everyone was seated in the aisles. Gokudera gathered with Squalo, the Tenth and some others behind Yamamoto and the bride - first row seats for the way they looked warmly into each other's eyes, ready for the next big adventure to come.
Together. The way Yamamoto and I will never be. That sentiment, that line seemed to mock him with the way it pounded through his brain, through his veins. It seemed with every heartbeat the pressure built in his chest, until Gokudera could hardly stand the potency of it.
People were speaking one by one, the Tenth and Ryohei and then Kyoko too, saying what a lovely couple they made. And then the priest stood and there was a benediction being said, the holy vows that would bind Yamamoto to someone else forever.
Forever. Gokudera thought he'd forgotten the concept because of his younger days, when his father proved there was no forever, not in their little family. Of course later it was untrue; regardless for most of his childhood Gokudera only believed in the scrap of his own existence and in his mother's scattered innocence. Now he thought he might understand it - the concept of leaning upon one other person's shoulder for the remainder of a person's life.
The box in his coat pocket dug into his side every time he shifted.
Squalo caught his eye more than once, uncharacteristically solemn. You're nothing without him.
The boss, who bumped his shoulder to say Hey are you still there? His words rang through Gokudera's head.
And Gokudera's reply: He deserves it. He's still got a long life ahead of him, I'm sure. I'll make sure every part of it goes perfectly.
Gokudera was always such a little liar, his grasping hands clawing at any spark of contentment he could get. He always was a sucker for the ones that held out their hands to him, unafraid of his bite.
"If there are any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Forever pounded like gasoline through him. Forever without him.
I did say I would tell him everything.
Jerkily he moved, an abortive movement. He walked down the line of suit-clad friends and handed the little black box to Tsuna. Then his steps took him down the carpeted stairs, and he turned into the men's dressing room door. He closed it behind him as quickly as he could, and then locked it.
He didn't dare look at Yamamoto's face. He didn't dare look at the audience. The only thing he could hear was the singing of his blood in his ears like a tea kettle gone mad. Both sides of his mind screamed What have you done!!, one in joy, the other in regret.
He put one foot in front of the other, tearing off his coat and boutonniere, vest and tie. He scraped the makeup off of his face with one hand and by the time he reached the church's side door, he was running. He dashed down the hill from the conference grounds to the street below, until his breath filled his hearing and his vision blurred with stars and tears.
----------------
He crashed through the door of the control room and locked it behind him. He stripped himself of everything he had come out wearing and put on the spare clothes he'd left there. Then, clad in jogging pants and a ratty old shirt, he activated the computer and locked the hologram room door too.
Yamamoto was utterly dismayed at his appearance. "Gokudera! Come here," the other Guardian fussed. "Come here." And Gokudera was enveloped in his strong embrace; even the scent was down pat, Gokudera had made sure of that when he programmed it.
He felt a chill run all the way into his bones; on the contrary, he felt safe, loved. Such a fleeting dream, he reflected, one that would do him no good at all. Yet here he was again, like he had been time and time again, basking in his Yamamoto's unrestrained love.
Somehow they'd made it to the bed and Yamamoto was stroking his hair softly, just the way Gokudera liked it. He snuggled closer to the cold apparition he'd created, feeling tears build in his eyes. Only one person in the world that he wanted everything from, and that person turns out to love someone else. It was such a normal little thing, yet here it was tearing Gokudera into pieces.
"What's wrong?" Yamamoto was saying. "Gokudera - you're crying. Don't cry, I'm here don't you know. I'm not going anywhere so hang on, hang on and it'll all pass soon enough."
"It w-won't," Gokudera hiccuped, muffled by the other Guardian's shirt.
"It will. Just watch. So don't cry anymore, alright?"
Gokudera was about to reply when a sound came from the other side of the door. He sat up fast, scrubbing at his eyes, when there came the sound of the lock clearly being broken. In the dust of the late afternoon sun the real Yamamoto peered into the darkness of Gokudera's pretend bedroom and spotted the two figures on the bed.
"Gokudera!" The other Guardian strode quickly towards him, and froze just as quickly. His eyes darted from one face to the other, finally settling on the one that looked exactly like him, down to the scar. "Who are you?"
"Who're you, that's the question." The hologram even reached over the bed and pulled out a fake Shigure. Gokudera almost laughed at the absurdity of seeing the two Yamamotos face off against each other. "I know I'm Yamamoto Takeshi, so who're you, impostor?"
"Computer, deactivate 226125," Gokudera commanded hoarsely before the situation could get any more ridiculous. He sighed to feel the hologram's arms dissipate from where they'd been, wrapped tight around him.
Seeing the threat had been neutralized Yamamoto put away his weapon too. "Gokudera, what was that? Was that a hologram? Why did it look like me?"
Every fiber in his being told Gokudera to not answer, to not give Yamamoto the sick reasoning behind the whole hologram room in the first place. But again he made that mistake of looking up into those lion eyes, which just a moment before had been filled with warmth and muted distress, but were just confused and frazzled now.
They had promised each other...even if they weren't partners anymore, Gokudera couldn't break that promise.
"I...," he began, and faltered. He didn't know where to start, where all of this madness began. He only knew that there was some root in him, some seed that had festered and writhed in his gut before it reached out its leaves towards the warmth that Yamamoto had showered it with, and now Gokudera was in love with his work partner/best friend. He'd kept it in for so long, it felt like gnaw of hunger - increasing, then decreasing, back and forth until there was nothing left, no hope and no courage, only solid fact.
"It was a hologram, wasn't it." Yamamoto settled tentatively on the bed next to him. "You had a hologram of me...holding you."
"Yes."
"And you walked out on me at the church just now."
"Yes."
"You've been hiding things from me though we said we'd be honest with each other."
"Yes." The guilt was crushing, the regret punishing.
"Why would you do these things?" Yamamoto pressed. "Just in front of my eyes the other day you dove off of a five-story balcony - why did you do that?"
"I thought he might let you go if I gave myself over. He wasn't interested in the rest of you guys."
"Bullshit," Yamamoto declared "You know that's a lie, that only happens in movies with chickenshit villains. Truvillo was a certifiable real nut from an asylum, as Tsuna found out. No, I think you tossed yourself off because you've been hiding things from me. Am I right?"
It was right, if in an extremely vague sense. Gokudera nodded.
Yamamoto seized his face between his palms. "Gokudera...are you in love with me or aren't you?"
It felt like every stressful, pressure-filled moment up until now was harmful as cherry pie filling. Gokudera stared up at the other Guardian, feeling all of his emotions drain out of him like a undamable flood. There was nothing to say except for: "Yes." He said it in the barest of whispers, because that was all that he could dredge the courage for.
Yamamoto searched his face, and for the first time in a long time Gokudera felt he was really being looked at. Every corner of his face seemed to reveal some new fact under Yamamoto's scrutiny, and after a minute Gokudera squirmed uncomfortably. "Don't move," Yamamoto barked, but at the sound of his voice Gokudera leaned back and tore his face out of his hands.
"You should've gone with Tsuna," he commented tonelessly.
"To hell with the wedding - why would you keep something like this inside? When were you planning to tell me, after I'd always walked Haru down the aisle and popped out a half dozen kids? On your deathbed? Or...you weren't planning to tell me at all, were you? You were going to take this fucking secret to the grave!"
And then softer, more shocked: "I bet you were willing to die with this crossed on your heart, weren't you?
A sigh. "Why wouldn't you tell me, Gokudera?" Again that cajoling tone that had the right-hand man and one badass lovestruck retard falling for it every time. "Tell me truthfully, just between you and me."
Yamamoto was nothing if not patient, so long minutes ticked away as Gokudera tried to gather the tattered remains of his thoughts into some semblance of order. "I thought that...," I was too broken. Too beaten. One hot mess, unfixable. Unworthy of your time. "You'd dated since so long ago, I'd long gotten used to...," being tossed aside for someone else. "I thought you deserved...," better than some fucked-up needy bastard child who'd whore himself out and then lie about it. Someone whose heart is still whole and intact.
"What, Gokudera?" Yamamoto murmured gently, but Gokudera only shook his head mutely. He could feel the tears he'd kept back for so long dripping like live coals to his hands, an unstoppable flow. In the end he'd proved himself such a damnably selfish bastard instead of the cool and controlled right-hand man that he'd always claimed he was.
Broken by the soft touch of Yamamoto's hand on his arm, shattering at the sound of Yamamoto's voice calling his name in that coaxing tone, he felt a bone-deep weariness set in his soul. He was exhausted, he was done. He didn't want hologram-Yamamoto or anybody, just a dark corner somewhere to curl up and hide from the world.
So it was the first press of Yamamoto's press against his temple was entirely surprising. The lips traced down to his eyelashes, to his nose and cheeks, leaving no space untouched. Gokudera remembered the hologram and closed his eyes briefly in pain, only to realize the moment released the tears he'd been holding back. Yamamoto kissed those away too.
"Gokudera," the other Guardian called, and Gokudera opened his eyes when he recognized the grate of desire in that tone. "Gokudera, come here." And he leaned in with no hesitation at all.
Their mouths met gently at first, and then Yamamoto tilted his head and they just fit. One hand snaked up to tangle in Gokudera's hair, bringing his mouth comfortably upwards to meet Yamamoto's. To Gokudera's surprise Yamamoto was trembling, not from effort but from some other unnamed emotion that vibrated through him in little jolts and shudders.
"Yamamoto," he called, staring at the other Guardian. Yamamoto lowered his head to the crook of Gokudera's shoulder and just stayed there, shaking. "Yamamoto, what's wrong."
"You. Me. Everything. I can't believe you never told me. I thought I'd have to settle for some sort of half-baked existence because you've been pushing me away the last couple of weeks, and you've been wasting away without telling me why, I've been going out of my mind trying to figure it out and now I know...we've wasted so much time, Gokudera. Why did we waste so much time?"
"Because I was a coward," Gokudera whispered. His arms held Yamamoto securely there in his embrace, even as he bent to bless the crown of Yamamoto's head with his lips. "Because I'm a weakling."
"You are no such thing," Yamamoto's head whipped up, eyes suddenly furious. He clutched at Gokudera's arms, shaking him roughly to emphasize his words. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known, and I'll throttle anyone who says otherwise."
It seemed so long since Gokudera had smiled, even now the smile felt strange even if it was real. "Yama-," he began but Yamamoto was pushing him down on the bed, kissing him fiercely, hands trailing up his sides, reaching under his shirt. Gokudera arched at his touch.
"No more running, no more hiding. I'll know every part of you, down to the last papercut on your pinky, Gokudera." To illustrate his point, he took Gokudera's hand and swirled his tongue around said digit. "You won't be able to escape from me anymore, not now that I know what you want is what I want too."
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Gokudera tried to breathe, but the weight of Yamamoto's body over him was suffocating him with desire.
"I dated a dozen girls, trying to get your attention, but you never blinked an eye. I tried so hard, but in the end all I could do was become close friends. I never thought, not even for a minute, that you might be interested too."
"Surely -," and Gokudera actually whined, the sound bringing a delighted gleam to Yamamoto's smirk. "You had to have thought I was interested in someone."
"Many," Yamamoto answered. His clever hands divested Gokudera of his pants and began to palm him through his underwear. In return Gokudera moaned, pushing unrestrainedly into his hand. "I've thought you've possibly taken a lot of people to bed, including Squalo."
"S-Squalo and I are just - nnngh!" Gokudera's statement faded into nothing.
"I don't think I like it when you say other people's names in bed, Gokudera." Teasingly Yamamoto leaned down and they kissed again, lips sucking gently, tongues dueling. Gokudera realized he was clutching at Yamamoto desperately, greedy for the warmth, so unlike the hologram. When he wanted to detach his hands, however, he found they were grasped fast to Yamamoto's dress shirt.
Their conversation dwindled then into a series of much more simple phrases, and then to general unintelligibility. Yamamoto swirled his tongue all the way down to places that had gone unexplored by anyone before, finally finding the root of Gokudera's arousal. After having gone for so long, it was inevitable that Gokudera came swiftly and harder than he ever had before.
When the stars had finally disappeared he realized he was being cradled carefully, Yamamoto's hands trailing in his hair. "What about Haru?" Gokudera found the courage to ask the dreaded question.
The hands never stopped. "She knows," Yamamoto quietly answered. "She understands."
"What about you?" Suddenly Gokudera had to know. "Do you know what you're getting into?"
It was funny to hear the rumble of Yamamoto's laughter through his chest. "That you're cantankerous in the morning without your coffee and that you have a serious thing for forgetting to eat when you're busy, and that you tend to self-destruct rather than let any one else get destroyed. I know you can't live without your cigarettes and now I know you can't live without me."
"That ain't the half of it," Gokudera grunted.
"That's the bad part. The good part comes next, like this: now I know you love me, probably the same way I love you."
His heartbeat had never sounded so loud in his ears. "And how do you know they're the same?"
"I don't know...maybe you should try saying it."
The inner macho-man balked at the request, but Gokudera knew better than anyone that a relationship usually stayed good because of communication. "I hate you, idiot," he muttered into Yamamoto's shirt after a spell.
Yamamoto's arms clutched even tighter at him. "I love you too, Gokudera." And then they were kissing again, until Gokudera knew no more.
----------------------
The next day Gokudera entered into the control room and ejected the disc that held his hologram on it. It wasn't completely put away - Yamamoto said, for whatever reason, that it would be cruel - but he did stick it somewhere very hidden in his workdesk. Then he erased all the traces of program 226125 from the computer databank.
All of it took about ten minutes, and at the end Yamamoto was at the door, bouncing up on his heels and ready to go.
"Are we going yet?" he asked rhetorically as they moved down the hall. "What's this assignment about?"
Wordlessly Gokudera handed him the folder to read over while he drove to the airport. The skies were clear, the weather perfect - this was it, this was the end of the line with Yamamoto humming happily in the passenger seat.
And yet it was only the beginning.
===========
Yay! XD Hope you guys liked it!
Fandom: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 8059
Rating: R
Notes: see Part I.
Digital Love (Part II)
(2010.08.14)
Gokudera woke to the trace of fingers against his cheek, calloused and gentle. "Wake up," Yamamoto coaxed, and he opened his eyes to meet light brown ones flecked with gold in the sunlight. The other Guardian smiled, long lashes perfectly curved against the round of his cheek, and for a moment Gokudera drank in that sight of smooth skin and pink lips, and felt the sensation of his heart splintering just a little more.
"Wha'timezzit?" he muttered sourly.
Yamamoto was undeterred. "Seven. But let's not go anywhere." The hologram's lips left nowhere untouched: the curve of one silver brow, the flutter of Gokudera's eyelashes, the point of that patrician's nose. And finally, a quick peck to Gokudera's mouth before he kissed each of the fingertips on Gokudera's left hand individually, finally nuzzling his nose into his palm. "Gokudera...," he murmured, voice trailing off as he traced the inside of Gokudera's arm reverently.
Gently Gokudera extricated himself, ignoring Yamamoto's whine of protest. "I have to go," he murmured, and slipped on the outfit he'd left on the floor of the room so it didn't get shifted with the hologram. The pants and shirt that he'd originally thought of wearing were too loose now, so he had to go out yesterday to buy some more. He slipped those on now, studiously not looking at the figure reclined on the bed.
Only when he was done preparing himself in the mirror did he look back towards the bed. Yamamoto was still there, watching him, arms wrapped haphazardly around Gokudera's pillow. As Gokudera watched, Yamamoto snuggled down further into the bed, seemingly content to lazily watch his partner forever.
A lump rose in Gokudera's throat at the sight. Sometimes when he was in this damn room, it just felt so real, like he could reach out and just...make it his. Come home to this room or some room like this every day to find Yamamoto there looking at him with such trust.
"Computer, deactivate 226125." And Yamamoto disappeared from the bed. Gokudera clapped twice and the whole thing disappeared to leave behind the sterile white lights and whitewashed walls of the hologram room. The watch on his wrist told him it was five in the morning, right on time.
He washed his face in one of the regular restrooms and drove with Ryohei to the wedding site. There he and Kyoko gave directions to all the florists, caterers, decorators, clergymen, specialists and influx of guests that started to trickle in.
By noon and the time the wedding was supposed to start the sun was beating high in the sky and Gokudera was exhausted. Though he knew Kyoko had nibbled a cream-pan all morning, unsurprisingly he hadn't had the appetite to stomach anything. He drank some tea before he went into the men's dressing room.
Yamamoto was there, fixing all of the boutonnieres on various guests' jackets, and looked far too relieved when Gokudera came in. "There you are! I thought you might still be outside, but I wasn't sure. Isn't the best man supposed to do all of this stuff? Nevermind, just come here and lemme pin it on for you." After doing it for a dozen different other guests Yamamoto seemed to have gotten used to pinning them, so it was a space of a second's closeness before the Family swordsman jerked back again to see. "Perfect!"
"Yeah," Gokudera echoed numbly. There was still some part of him that couldn't believe he was here, and there was another part of him that couldn't believe there was a part of him that couldn't believe he hadn't stopped this damn thing before now.
There was a beat of real hesitation where Yamamoto took on Gokudera's arm (still in a sling) and the way he still got short of breath sometimes, but abruptly he shook the doubts out of his head and smiled brightly. Gokudera, having been around the idiot for so long, knew it was moot to point out how fake it was. "Anyways, here," Yamamoto offered him the little black box.
That was the only thing that Yamamoto had prepared, and looking at it Gokudera honestly couldn't tell what if there was anything special about it. It was just a regular old ring, platinum gold, with a big white stone in the middle.
Yet it still felt as if there was some giant baby playing trampoline on top of his heart. This really is it, he thought, this really is the end.
Too soon the people were collected, and everyone was seated in the aisles. Gokudera gathered with Squalo, the Tenth and some others behind Yamamoto and the bride - first row seats for the way they looked warmly into each other's eyes, ready for the next big adventure to come.
Together. The way Yamamoto and I will never be. That sentiment, that line seemed to mock him with the way it pounded through his brain, through his veins. It seemed with every heartbeat the pressure built in his chest, until Gokudera could hardly stand the potency of it.
People were speaking one by one, the Tenth and Ryohei and then Kyoko too, saying what a lovely couple they made. And then the priest stood and there was a benediction being said, the holy vows that would bind Yamamoto to someone else forever.
Forever. Gokudera thought he'd forgotten the concept because of his younger days, when his father proved there was no forever, not in their little family. Of course later it was untrue; regardless for most of his childhood Gokudera only believed in the scrap of his own existence and in his mother's scattered innocence. Now he thought he might understand it - the concept of leaning upon one other person's shoulder for the remainder of a person's life.
The box in his coat pocket dug into his side every time he shifted.
Squalo caught his eye more than once, uncharacteristically solemn. You're nothing without him.
The boss, who bumped his shoulder to say Hey are you still there? His words rang through Gokudera's head.
And Gokudera's reply: He deserves it. He's still got a long life ahead of him, I'm sure. I'll make sure every part of it goes perfectly.
Gokudera was always such a little liar, his grasping hands clawing at any spark of contentment he could get. He always was a sucker for the ones that held out their hands to him, unafraid of his bite.
"If there are any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Forever pounded like gasoline through him. Forever without him.
I did say I would tell him everything.
Jerkily he moved, an abortive movement. He walked down the line of suit-clad friends and handed the little black box to Tsuna. Then his steps took him down the carpeted stairs, and he turned into the men's dressing room door. He closed it behind him as quickly as he could, and then locked it.
He didn't dare look at Yamamoto's face. He didn't dare look at the audience. The only thing he could hear was the singing of his blood in his ears like a tea kettle gone mad. Both sides of his mind screamed What have you done!!, one in joy, the other in regret.
He put one foot in front of the other, tearing off his coat and boutonniere, vest and tie. He scraped the makeup off of his face with one hand and by the time he reached the church's side door, he was running. He dashed down the hill from the conference grounds to the street below, until his breath filled his hearing and his vision blurred with stars and tears.
----------------
He crashed through the door of the control room and locked it behind him. He stripped himself of everything he had come out wearing and put on the spare clothes he'd left there. Then, clad in jogging pants and a ratty old shirt, he activated the computer and locked the hologram room door too.
Yamamoto was utterly dismayed at his appearance. "Gokudera! Come here," the other Guardian fussed. "Come here." And Gokudera was enveloped in his strong embrace; even the scent was down pat, Gokudera had made sure of that when he programmed it.
He felt a chill run all the way into his bones; on the contrary, he felt safe, loved. Such a fleeting dream, he reflected, one that would do him no good at all. Yet here he was again, like he had been time and time again, basking in his Yamamoto's unrestrained love.
Somehow they'd made it to the bed and Yamamoto was stroking his hair softly, just the way Gokudera liked it. He snuggled closer to the cold apparition he'd created, feeling tears build in his eyes. Only one person in the world that he wanted everything from, and that person turns out to love someone else. It was such a normal little thing, yet here it was tearing Gokudera into pieces.
"What's wrong?" Yamamoto was saying. "Gokudera - you're crying. Don't cry, I'm here don't you know. I'm not going anywhere so hang on, hang on and it'll all pass soon enough."
"It w-won't," Gokudera hiccuped, muffled by the other Guardian's shirt.
"It will. Just watch. So don't cry anymore, alright?"
Gokudera was about to reply when a sound came from the other side of the door. He sat up fast, scrubbing at his eyes, when there came the sound of the lock clearly being broken. In the dust of the late afternoon sun the real Yamamoto peered into the darkness of Gokudera's pretend bedroom and spotted the two figures on the bed.
"Gokudera!" The other Guardian strode quickly towards him, and froze just as quickly. His eyes darted from one face to the other, finally settling on the one that looked exactly like him, down to the scar. "Who are you?"
"Who're you, that's the question." The hologram even reached over the bed and pulled out a fake Shigure. Gokudera almost laughed at the absurdity of seeing the two Yamamotos face off against each other. "I know I'm Yamamoto Takeshi, so who're you, impostor?"
"Computer, deactivate 226125," Gokudera commanded hoarsely before the situation could get any more ridiculous. He sighed to feel the hologram's arms dissipate from where they'd been, wrapped tight around him.
Seeing the threat had been neutralized Yamamoto put away his weapon too. "Gokudera, what was that? Was that a hologram? Why did it look like me?"
Every fiber in his being told Gokudera to not answer, to not give Yamamoto the sick reasoning behind the whole hologram room in the first place. But again he made that mistake of looking up into those lion eyes, which just a moment before had been filled with warmth and muted distress, but were just confused and frazzled now.
They had promised each other...even if they weren't partners anymore, Gokudera couldn't break that promise.
"I...," he began, and faltered. He didn't know where to start, where all of this madness began. He only knew that there was some root in him, some seed that had festered and writhed in his gut before it reached out its leaves towards the warmth that Yamamoto had showered it with, and now Gokudera was in love with his work partner/best friend. He'd kept it in for so long, it felt like gnaw of hunger - increasing, then decreasing, back and forth until there was nothing left, no hope and no courage, only solid fact.
"It was a hologram, wasn't it." Yamamoto settled tentatively on the bed next to him. "You had a hologram of me...holding you."
"Yes."
"And you walked out on me at the church just now."
"Yes."
"You've been hiding things from me though we said we'd be honest with each other."
"Yes." The guilt was crushing, the regret punishing.
"Why would you do these things?" Yamamoto pressed. "Just in front of my eyes the other day you dove off of a five-story balcony - why did you do that?"
"I thought he might let you go if I gave myself over. He wasn't interested in the rest of you guys."
"Bullshit," Yamamoto declared "You know that's a lie, that only happens in movies with chickenshit villains. Truvillo was a certifiable real nut from an asylum, as Tsuna found out. No, I think you tossed yourself off because you've been hiding things from me. Am I right?"
It was right, if in an extremely vague sense. Gokudera nodded.
Yamamoto seized his face between his palms. "Gokudera...are you in love with me or aren't you?"
It felt like every stressful, pressure-filled moment up until now was harmful as cherry pie filling. Gokudera stared up at the other Guardian, feeling all of his emotions drain out of him like a undamable flood. There was nothing to say except for: "Yes." He said it in the barest of whispers, because that was all that he could dredge the courage for.
Yamamoto searched his face, and for the first time in a long time Gokudera felt he was really being looked at. Every corner of his face seemed to reveal some new fact under Yamamoto's scrutiny, and after a minute Gokudera squirmed uncomfortably. "Don't move," Yamamoto barked, but at the sound of his voice Gokudera leaned back and tore his face out of his hands.
"You should've gone with Tsuna," he commented tonelessly.
"To hell with the wedding - why would you keep something like this inside? When were you planning to tell me, after I'd always walked Haru down the aisle and popped out a half dozen kids? On your deathbed? Or...you weren't planning to tell me at all, were you? You were going to take this fucking secret to the grave!"
And then softer, more shocked: "I bet you were willing to die with this crossed on your heart, weren't you?
A sigh. "Why wouldn't you tell me, Gokudera?" Again that cajoling tone that had the right-hand man and one badass lovestruck retard falling for it every time. "Tell me truthfully, just between you and me."
Yamamoto was nothing if not patient, so long minutes ticked away as Gokudera tried to gather the tattered remains of his thoughts into some semblance of order. "I thought that...," I was too broken. Too beaten. One hot mess, unfixable. Unworthy of your time. "You'd dated since so long ago, I'd long gotten used to...," being tossed aside for someone else. "I thought you deserved...," better than some fucked-up needy bastard child who'd whore himself out and then lie about it. Someone whose heart is still whole and intact.
"What, Gokudera?" Yamamoto murmured gently, but Gokudera only shook his head mutely. He could feel the tears he'd kept back for so long dripping like live coals to his hands, an unstoppable flow. In the end he'd proved himself such a damnably selfish bastard instead of the cool and controlled right-hand man that he'd always claimed he was.
Broken by the soft touch of Yamamoto's hand on his arm, shattering at the sound of Yamamoto's voice calling his name in that coaxing tone, he felt a bone-deep weariness set in his soul. He was exhausted, he was done. He didn't want hologram-Yamamoto or anybody, just a dark corner somewhere to curl up and hide from the world.
So it was the first press of Yamamoto's press against his temple was entirely surprising. The lips traced down to his eyelashes, to his nose and cheeks, leaving no space untouched. Gokudera remembered the hologram and closed his eyes briefly in pain, only to realize the moment released the tears he'd been holding back. Yamamoto kissed those away too.
"Gokudera," the other Guardian called, and Gokudera opened his eyes when he recognized the grate of desire in that tone. "Gokudera, come here." And he leaned in with no hesitation at all.
Their mouths met gently at first, and then Yamamoto tilted his head and they just fit. One hand snaked up to tangle in Gokudera's hair, bringing his mouth comfortably upwards to meet Yamamoto's. To Gokudera's surprise Yamamoto was trembling, not from effort but from some other unnamed emotion that vibrated through him in little jolts and shudders.
"Yamamoto," he called, staring at the other Guardian. Yamamoto lowered his head to the crook of Gokudera's shoulder and just stayed there, shaking. "Yamamoto, what's wrong."
"You. Me. Everything. I can't believe you never told me. I thought I'd have to settle for some sort of half-baked existence because you've been pushing me away the last couple of weeks, and you've been wasting away without telling me why, I've been going out of my mind trying to figure it out and now I know...we've wasted so much time, Gokudera. Why did we waste so much time?"
"Because I was a coward," Gokudera whispered. His arms held Yamamoto securely there in his embrace, even as he bent to bless the crown of Yamamoto's head with his lips. "Because I'm a weakling."
"You are no such thing," Yamamoto's head whipped up, eyes suddenly furious. He clutched at Gokudera's arms, shaking him roughly to emphasize his words. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever known, and I'll throttle anyone who says otherwise."
It seemed so long since Gokudera had smiled, even now the smile felt strange even if it was real. "Yama-," he began but Yamamoto was pushing him down on the bed, kissing him fiercely, hands trailing up his sides, reaching under his shirt. Gokudera arched at his touch.
"No more running, no more hiding. I'll know every part of you, down to the last papercut on your pinky, Gokudera." To illustrate his point, he took Gokudera's hand and swirled his tongue around said digit. "You won't be able to escape from me anymore, not now that I know what you want is what I want too."
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Gokudera tried to breathe, but the weight of Yamamoto's body over him was suffocating him with desire.
"I dated a dozen girls, trying to get your attention, but you never blinked an eye. I tried so hard, but in the end all I could do was become close friends. I never thought, not even for a minute, that you might be interested too."
"Surely -," and Gokudera actually whined, the sound bringing a delighted gleam to Yamamoto's smirk. "You had to have thought I was interested in someone."
"Many," Yamamoto answered. His clever hands divested Gokudera of his pants and began to palm him through his underwear. In return Gokudera moaned, pushing unrestrainedly into his hand. "I've thought you've possibly taken a lot of people to bed, including Squalo."
"S-Squalo and I are just - nnngh!" Gokudera's statement faded into nothing.
"I don't think I like it when you say other people's names in bed, Gokudera." Teasingly Yamamoto leaned down and they kissed again, lips sucking gently, tongues dueling. Gokudera realized he was clutching at Yamamoto desperately, greedy for the warmth, so unlike the hologram. When he wanted to detach his hands, however, he found they were grasped fast to Yamamoto's dress shirt.
Their conversation dwindled then into a series of much more simple phrases, and then to general unintelligibility. Yamamoto swirled his tongue all the way down to places that had gone unexplored by anyone before, finally finding the root of Gokudera's arousal. After having gone for so long, it was inevitable that Gokudera came swiftly and harder than he ever had before.
When the stars had finally disappeared he realized he was being cradled carefully, Yamamoto's hands trailing in his hair. "What about Haru?" Gokudera found the courage to ask the dreaded question.
The hands never stopped. "She knows," Yamamoto quietly answered. "She understands."
"What about you?" Suddenly Gokudera had to know. "Do you know what you're getting into?"
It was funny to hear the rumble of Yamamoto's laughter through his chest. "That you're cantankerous in the morning without your coffee and that you have a serious thing for forgetting to eat when you're busy, and that you tend to self-destruct rather than let any one else get destroyed. I know you can't live without your cigarettes and now I know you can't live without me."
"That ain't the half of it," Gokudera grunted.
"That's the bad part. The good part comes next, like this: now I know you love me, probably the same way I love you."
His heartbeat had never sounded so loud in his ears. "And how do you know they're the same?"
"I don't know...maybe you should try saying it."
The inner macho-man balked at the request, but Gokudera knew better than anyone that a relationship usually stayed good because of communication. "I hate you, idiot," he muttered into Yamamoto's shirt after a spell.
Yamamoto's arms clutched even tighter at him. "I love you too, Gokudera." And then they were kissing again, until Gokudera knew no more.
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The next day Gokudera entered into the control room and ejected the disc that held his hologram on it. It wasn't completely put away - Yamamoto said, for whatever reason, that it would be cruel - but he did stick it somewhere very hidden in his workdesk. Then he erased all the traces of program 226125 from the computer databank.
All of it took about ten minutes, and at the end Yamamoto was at the door, bouncing up on his heels and ready to go.
"Are we going yet?" he asked rhetorically as they moved down the hall. "What's this assignment about?"
Wordlessly Gokudera handed him the folder to read over while he drove to the airport. The skies were clear, the weather perfect - this was it, this was the end of the line with Yamamoto humming happily in the passenger seat.
And yet it was only the beginning.
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Yay! XD Hope you guys liked it!