(no subject)
Title: Untitled
Fandom: Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 8059
Rating: PG-13 at least - if you think it should be higher, please let me know.
Prompt: "Prostitutes" for my au_bingo card.
Word Count: 513
Warnings: Sexual situations implied, swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own KHR. But I really wish I did.
"You really fucking piss me off," Gokudera growled, rubbing out his cigarette into a nearby ashtray as he leveled a glare at the man across from him. Yamamoto just laughed, letting the words roll off of him like rain off a windowpane. He leaned back into the armchair, long legs stretched out leisurely in front of him. The hotel was a familiar one to them both, even if this particular room wasn't, and the lavish surroundings were easy to get used to. Every room was like another, even in a place this expensive.
"You don't really mean that," the Japanese man cajoled. "I'm your favorite customer."
"Favorite customer, right," Gokudera scoffed. He was a prostitute, no matter how high-end he was - he didn't have favorite customers. Even if Yamamoto was somewhat less odious than some of his other patrons (that is to say, he was really fucking hot, especially the way he looked now: suit disheveled, hair wild from fingers running through it a few too many times, long, lean body stretched out in unconscious grace, completely on display), he was a total fucking idiot and that negated the physical aspects (that, at least, was what Gokudera kept telling himself).
(He wasn't sure how long it would keep working.)
Yamamoto grinned at him, confident and easy. "It's not so bad, is it? We could always just talk, you know. Go downstairs and have dinner. I like your company."
Fuck. He wasn't blushing. The heat on his face was something completely different - Gokudera refused to believe otherwise. He'd been in the business for far too long to be embarrassed by something as ridiculous as that.
"Dumbass," the silverette growled, and stalked across the room to where Yamamoto sat. He straddled the other man's lap in an easy move, ignoring the startled look he got as he ran his fingers up into Yamamoto's hair (if it was messy now, it was Gokudera's fault, and privately, he liked it that way). Catching and holding Yamamoto gaze, he leaned in until their lips were only a moment apart. Gokudera smirked at the way Yamamoto's eyes had gone dark with desire, and his voice was low and husky as he breathed, "We both know you didn't call me just to talk."
Yamamoto's hands settled familiarly on Gokudera's hips, fingers already sneaking underneath his to brush along warm, bare skin. His grin turned slightly feral as a shiver ran through Gokudera at the touch, and damn if that didn't make Gokudera want him more.
"Just like the money isn't the only reason you came."
Gokudera's eyes narrowed at the reply, and he slid his hands down until he could grasp Yamamoto's tie, using his nails the whole way (it wasn't fair that it was true).
"Fuck you," he snarled, and yanked Yamamoto forward those last few centimeters. Yamamoto laughed lowly into the kiss, letting Gokudera have his way until they had to break apart for air.
"I plan to," Yamamoto purred with an air of amusement behind the heat in his voice, hands already skimming into more intimate territory. "Fuck you, that is. Ha ha."
Any and all concrit is totally, completely, wholeheartedly welcomed. And I sincerely apologize for my total fail.
Fandom: Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn
Pairing: 8059
Rating: PG-13 at least - if you think it should be higher, please let me know.
Prompt: "Prostitutes" for my au_bingo card.
Word Count: 513
Warnings: Sexual situations implied, swearing
Disclaimer: I do not own KHR. But I really wish I did.
"You really fucking piss me off," Gokudera growled, rubbing out his cigarette into a nearby ashtray as he leveled a glare at the man across from him. Yamamoto just laughed, letting the words roll off of him like rain off a windowpane. He leaned back into the armchair, long legs stretched out leisurely in front of him. The hotel was a familiar one to them both, even if this particular room wasn't, and the lavish surroundings were easy to get used to. Every room was like another, even in a place this expensive.
"You don't really mean that," the Japanese man cajoled. "I'm your favorite customer."
"Favorite customer, right," Gokudera scoffed. He was a prostitute, no matter how high-end he was - he didn't have favorite customers. Even if Yamamoto was somewhat less odious than some of his other patrons (that is to say, he was really fucking hot, especially the way he looked now: suit disheveled, hair wild from fingers running through it a few too many times, long, lean body stretched out in unconscious grace, completely on display), he was a total fucking idiot and that negated the physical aspects (that, at least, was what Gokudera kept telling himself).
(He wasn't sure how long it would keep working.)
Yamamoto grinned at him, confident and easy. "It's not so bad, is it? We could always just talk, you know. Go downstairs and have dinner. I like your company."
Fuck. He wasn't blushing. The heat on his face was something completely different - Gokudera refused to believe otherwise. He'd been in the business for far too long to be embarrassed by something as ridiculous as that.
"Dumbass," the silverette growled, and stalked across the room to where Yamamoto sat. He straddled the other man's lap in an easy move, ignoring the startled look he got as he ran his fingers up into Yamamoto's hair (if it was messy now, it was Gokudera's fault, and privately, he liked it that way). Catching and holding Yamamoto gaze, he leaned in until their lips were only a moment apart. Gokudera smirked at the way Yamamoto's eyes had gone dark with desire, and his voice was low and husky as he breathed, "We both know you didn't call me just to talk."
Yamamoto's hands settled familiarly on Gokudera's hips, fingers already sneaking underneath his to brush along warm, bare skin. His grin turned slightly feral as a shiver ran through Gokudera at the touch, and damn if that didn't make Gokudera want him more.
"Just like the money isn't the only reason you came."
Gokudera's eyes narrowed at the reply, and he slid his hands down until he could grasp Yamamoto's tie, using his nails the whole way (it wasn't fair that it was true).
"Fuck you," he snarled, and yanked Yamamoto forward those last few centimeters. Yamamoto laughed lowly into the kiss, letting Gokudera have his way until they had to break apart for air.
"I plan to," Yamamoto purred with an air of amusement behind the heat in his voice, hands already skimming into more intimate territory. "Fuck you, that is. Ha ha."
Any and all concrit is totally, completely, wholeheartedly welcomed. And I sincerely apologize for my total fail.