For Lampazo_Libre
“ Who was your date tomorrow?” Gokudera asks, memory slowly dawning on him. Yamamoto peers up again and shrugs.
October 30:
“Hey! Gokudera! You’re going to be back from the “distract and conquer” mission by December, right? Haha, ‘cause I just wanted to make sure.”
“What the fuck, dip shit? I’m getting ready for training. Anyways, fuck, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Haha, but you’ll be back by Christmas, right?”
“Should do. Look, I’ve really got to pack…”
“Okay, okay, coolio, G. It’s a date!”
“You’re fucking distracting me! Go away.”
“Okay, I’ll get everything ready! Haha,it’s gonna be awesome!”
“What don’t you understand about get the fuck out, baseball idiot?”
“Oh” says Gokudera, now feeling a little more enlightened. He looks at their touching hands, and then moves his hand until it covers Yamamoto’s entirely.
The rain guardian shoots him a look of complete surprise.
“I think,” says Gokudera, “that we’ve had a misunderstanding.”
The service shifts to communion, and people begin to make their way up to the front. Alfredo Mamazza stands up too. He takes a step and then another, and then he explodes. A fine pink mist lightly dusts the worshipers.
The entire crowd panics, and as they stampede towards the doors Gokudera grabs Yamamoto by the hand and runs. They run and they run until finally Gokudera ducks into a side alley and they lean over to catch their breath, laughing. Yamamoto looks awestruck.
“You know, there is a bit of a precedent for a human sacrifice on Saturnalia,” Gokudera remarks. “Means a good year in the future.”
Yamomoto is grinning and nodding and still breathing hard. And Gokudera is staring at those red stained lips and the stupid idiot smile, and he fists his hands on Yamamoto’s suit and shoves him against the wall of the alleyway. He leans up and captures the black-haired boy’s lips with his own, taking claim like he’s wanted to since he realized how much the idiot meant to him.
“Haha, you got that pissed off at Christmas just for me?” Yamamoto laughs. Gokudera is concentrating on stripping off the black haired boy's suit jacket in the hotel suite they have decided to share. First the jacket, then the buttons top down. The shirt slips off of Yamamoto’s shoulder and Gokudera licks and nips his way across the bare skin.
“No.” he says at last, pausing and breathing heavily against Yamamoto's heaving chest. “Christmas is a shitty holiday anyways.”
Yamamoto smiles. “I’m gonna love Christmas forever. It’s always gonna be my favourite holiday after this.”
All of the shirt is off now, and with Yamamoto’s help Gokudera strips off the top half of hisown suit, shivering at the feel of the baseball idiot’s large hands as they caress the skin of torso. He slides his hands to the small of the storm guardian's back and pulls his body flush against himself. He trails his hand up Gokudera's spine, and watches as he arches like a cat.
“It’s not really Christmas anyways,” Gokudera says through his moan, leaning out of the touch and starting work on Yamamoto’s pants, “It’s Christmas EVE. Not the same at all.” Yamamoto shifts his hips up to help him get them off and then leans up on his knees and captures Gokudera’s lips in a kiss. And if Yamamoto cops a feel of the ass he so loves, well, who can blame him?
“Haha, but today’s the day Gokudera finally told me that he liked me.” Yamamoto smiles with two firm ass cheeks cupped in his hands. Heaven.
Gokudera shoots Yamamoto a fierce frown and opens his mouth to say something nasty, but when staring down at the stupid, smiling, fearless idiot he is at a loss. Yamamoto sees the shift in his expression and so gives a dopey look of love and tackles Gokudera to get HIS pants off too.
There is a struggle. Then “bend over”.
And after that, my friends, there was a Christmas miracle.
The next morning, in the lush afterglow of excellent sex, Gokudera Hayato is in a very good mood. He is surprised to run into the little boy whose present he had stolen and exploded a day earlier, happily playing with an empty box, no presents needed. It is a bit disconcerting, so he slips the tyke a fiver and continues on his way down to free continental breakfast.
At the table, the newspapers all declare that the surge of goodwill and cheer around Christmas is due to the explosions. There are declarations of partnership, and world peace may now be a distinct possibility. Gokudera snorts, not believing that shit for a second. On the next page, the explosion at the Vatican seems to have rejuvenated the pope, and the world's religious leaders have come together to release a statement that people will love who they will love and will believe what they believe, and that everyone should just try to get along
Gokudera can only think one thing: Christmas miracles are very scary things.
His heart also expands three sizes, and he brings a hung over Yamamoto breakfast in bed.
Things go back to normal by the next Monday.
Sawada Tsunayoshi is the Tenth head of the Vongola crime syndicate family. When he was younger he was called “No-good Tsuna”, and nobody thought he would amount to much of anything. But he is seventeen and has the prettiest girl in Namimori at his table, and he smiles shyly at Sasagawa Kyoko as she delicately eats her Christmas cake, the necklace at her throat proudly proclaiming that she is with Tsuna (a delicate V
A vibration in his pocket alerts him to a message, and he discreetly glances down at pictures of his two best friends locked in a more than friendly embrace. He sends off a quick thank you to the investigator, and smiles a little. His plan has had a few bumps, but his remarkable intuition is rarely wrong, especially when it comes to his friends.
On December 28th, Gokudera Hayato is woken up from his exhausted slumber by his stupid fucking cellphone.
“Yo, what the fuck.” He says as he picks up. Yamamoto groans behind him and nuzzles his face into Gokudera’s bare shoulder. He shivers
“Hi Hayato,” A enthusiastic female voice says over the phone. “Angela Favaloro from Misanthropic Mafia Monthly Magazine. I’m a hhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuggggggeeeeee fan of your work, and in light of the recent Christmas bombings we’d love to feature a bad boy like you in ourFebruary Single Macho Mafia Hunk of the Month.&rdquo
Gokudera thinks about it - he likes the possibility of revenge, of showing up his stupid…. Lover? They haven’t yet defined what they are or where they’re going but they both know its more than just a simple fuck, this is permanent
Yamamoto seems to be waking up and his hand is rubbing a warm trail along Gokudera’s belly and down… and oh. Gokudera bites down on a moan. That feels GOOD
“I’ll take that as yes,” says Angela. “The shoot will be on next Friday and…&rdquo
Gokudera cuts her off. “Sorry lady, you misheard me. No can do, I’m not exactly single anymore.”
He reaches behind him to cup Yamamoto's baseball bat and lets the phone pick up the baseball idiot’s audible laugh-mew before snapping the phone shut and getting on with sexing up his boyfriend.
October 30:
“Hey! Gokudera! You’re going to be back from the “distract and conquer” mission by December, right? Haha, ‘cause I just wanted to make sure.”
“What the fuck, dip shit? I’m getting ready for training. Anyways, fuck, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Haha, but you’ll be back by Christmas, right?”
“Should do. Look, I’ve really got to pack…”
“Okay, okay, coolio, G. It’s a date!”
“You’re fucking distracting me! Go away.”
“Okay, I’ll get everything ready! Haha,it’s gonna be awesome!”
“What don’t you understand about get the fuck out, baseball idiot?”
“Oh” says Gokudera, now feeling a little more enlightened. He looks at their touching hands, and then moves his hand until it covers Yamamoto’s entirely.
The rain guardian shoots him a look of complete surprise.
“I think,” says Gokudera, “that we’ve had a misunderstanding.”
The service shifts to communion, and people begin to make their way up to the front. Alfredo Mamazza stands up too. He takes a step and then another, and then he explodes. A fine pink mist lightly dusts the worshipers.
The entire crowd panics, and as they stampede towards the doors Gokudera grabs Yamamoto by the hand and runs. They run and they run until finally Gokudera ducks into a side alley and they lean over to catch their breath, laughing. Yamamoto looks awestruck.
“You know, there is a bit of a precedent for a human sacrifice on Saturnalia,” Gokudera remarks. “Means a good year in the future.”
Yamomoto is grinning and nodding and still breathing hard. And Gokudera is staring at those red stained lips and the stupid idiot smile, and he fists his hands on Yamamoto’s suit and shoves him against the wall of the alleyway. He leans up and captures the black-haired boy’s lips with his own, taking claim like he’s wanted to since he realized how much the idiot meant to him.
“Haha, you got that pissed off at Christmas just for me?” Yamamoto laughs. Gokudera is concentrating on stripping off the black haired boy's suit jacket in the hotel suite they have decided to share. First the jacket, then the buttons top down. The shirt slips off of Yamamoto’s shoulder and Gokudera licks and nips his way across the bare skin.
“No.” he says at last, pausing and breathing heavily against Yamamoto's heaving chest. “Christmas is a shitty holiday anyways.”
Yamamoto smiles. “I’m gonna love Christmas forever. It’s always gonna be my favourite holiday after this.”
All of the shirt is off now, and with Yamamoto’s help Gokudera strips off the top half of hisown suit, shivering at the feel of the baseball idiot’s large hands as they caress the skin of torso. He slides his hands to the small of the storm guardian's back and pulls his body flush against himself. He trails his hand up Gokudera's spine, and watches as he arches like a cat.
“It’s not really Christmas anyways,” Gokudera says through his moan, leaning out of the touch and starting work on Yamamoto’s pants, “It’s Christmas EVE. Not the same at all.” Yamamoto shifts his hips up to help him get them off and then leans up on his knees and captures Gokudera’s lips in a kiss. And if Yamamoto cops a feel of the ass he so loves, well, who can blame him?
“Haha, but today’s the day Gokudera finally told me that he liked me.” Yamamoto smiles with two firm ass cheeks cupped in his hands. Heaven.
Gokudera shoots Yamamoto a fierce frown and opens his mouth to say something nasty, but when staring down at the stupid, smiling, fearless idiot he is at a loss. Yamamoto sees the shift in his expression and so gives a dopey look of love and tackles Gokudera to get HIS pants off too.
There is a struggle. Then “bend over”.
And after that, my friends, there was a Christmas miracle.
The next morning, in the lush afterglow of excellent sex, Gokudera Hayato is in a very good mood. He is surprised to run into the little boy whose present he had stolen and exploded a day earlier, happily playing with an empty box, no presents needed. It is a bit disconcerting, so he slips the tyke a fiver and continues on his way down to free continental breakfast.
At the table, the newspapers all declare that the surge of goodwill and cheer around Christmas is due to the explosions. There are declarations of partnership, and world peace may now be a distinct possibility. Gokudera snorts, not believing that shit for a second. On the next page, the explosion at the Vatican seems to have rejuvenated the pope, and the world's religious leaders have come together to release a statement that people will love who they will love and will believe what they believe, and that everyone should just try to get along
Gokudera can only think one thing: Christmas miracles are very scary things.
His heart also expands three sizes, and he brings a hung over Yamamoto breakfast in bed.
Things go back to normal by the next Monday.
Sawada Tsunayoshi is the Tenth head of the Vongola crime syndicate family. When he was younger he was called “No-good Tsuna”, and nobody thought he would amount to much of anything. But he is seventeen and has the prettiest girl in Namimori at his table, and he smiles shyly at Sasagawa Kyoko as she delicately eats her Christmas cake, the necklace at her throat proudly proclaiming that she is with Tsuna (a delicate V
A vibration in his pocket alerts him to a message, and he discreetly glances down at pictures of his two best friends locked in a more than friendly embrace. He sends off a quick thank you to the investigator, and smiles a little. His plan has had a few bumps, but his remarkable intuition is rarely wrong, especially when it comes to his friends.
On December 28th, Gokudera Hayato is woken up from his exhausted slumber by his stupid fucking cellphone.
“Yo, what the fuck.” He says as he picks up. Yamamoto groans behind him and nuzzles his face into Gokudera’s bare shoulder. He shivers
“Hi Hayato,” A enthusiastic female voice says over the phone. “Angela Favaloro from Misanthropic Mafia Monthly Magazine. I’m a hhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuggggggeeeeee fan of your work, and in light of the recent Christmas bombings we’d love to feature a bad boy like you in ourFebruary Single Macho Mafia Hunk of the Month.&rdquo
Gokudera thinks about it - he likes the possibility of revenge, of showing up his stupid…. Lover? They haven’t yet defined what they are or where they’re going but they both know its more than just a simple fuck, this is permanent
Yamamoto seems to be waking up and his hand is rubbing a warm trail along Gokudera’s belly and down… and oh. Gokudera bites down on a moan. That feels GOOD
“I’ll take that as yes,” says Angela. “The shoot will be on next Friday and…&rdquo
Gokudera cuts her off. “Sorry lady, you misheard me. No can do, I’m not exactly single anymore.”
He reaches behind him to cup Yamamoto's baseball bat and lets the phone pick up the baseball idiot’s audible laugh-mew before snapping the phone shut and getting on with sexing up his boyfriend.