Reborn! recs for all
Katekyo Hitman Reborn: Yamamoto/Gokudera (20)
Katekyo Hitman Reborn: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Imagine That by Andrea Weiling (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
The first begins to garble. It adds on little tags like after I get out of this fucking shithole and after I beat up the bastard who did this to me, but the core of it remains intact. That's because he likes baseball, likes the feel of a perfect swing and not-so-much the smell of sweat but the feeling that he'd beat his record again, even if they hadn't won. He liked when he first stepped onto the field, and looked out at all the colors of the world, at the vibrant green and brown patches on the field, at the reddish dirt of the diamond and the mound. Sometimes at the faces he knew would be sitting above, at their faces, their excited and happy faces.
schiantarsi by actualize (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
Gokudera fitfully dreams in sadisms. It’s not uncommon, he thinks, not too strange, to remember the sharpness underneath his skin - broken fingers heal far faster than the memories. He dreams of burning blindfolds and pianos made of tin foil that crumbles when he lays his palms across the keys. In the worst of them he imagines a woman and what she might be saying (betraying, rhythmic, weighted with would-be truths) with her hands over his eyes as they both bleed out across the ivory.
Misplacement Theory by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, Gokudera/Tsuna, PG-13)
Time hardly ever matters anymore. Gokudera is still moving though, fueled by the memory of fireworks and summer nights, a sodden paper boat still trusting the ripples to push him forward, bit by agonizing bit. There are still missions to run, paperwork to deal with, the hollow technicalities of being the right hand to a body that is dead and buried.
♠ Five Ways Yamamoto Almost Confessed His Love to Gokudera by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
And it’s strange, Gokudera thinks, how Yamamoto can jog slowly, with such determination, through those thick-dropped torrents, as if he weren’t waterlogged and blinded by the rain that must be splattering in his eyes. As if he’s floating on all that water, somehow. Unaffected, letting the stings against thinly protected cuts and bare skin guide him. “Stupid,” Gokudera mutters for the both of them, but watches with squinted eyes, and supposes he should try to thank Yamamoto if he comes back with the cigarettes.
Secrecy Culture by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
It’s three in the morning when Gokudera’s cell phone jingles cheerfully in the pitch black of his room; a text message. Gokudera grabs it in a startled panic, Tsuna’s well-being on his mind, enemy threats on his mind. He looks at the sender’s name, grasping for comprehension.
Drop Your Weapon by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Sequel to Secrecy Culture.
Gokudera feels his tendons tighten to flight mode; Yamamoto’s so subtle, and yet it all bleeds onto the paper: last night, last night, last night. Blindly, he writes, Screw you. Stop interrupting the class. He throws it over a few giggling students’ heads and doesn’t turn around to see Yamamoto’s reaction.
Play the Victim Card by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
His tongue presses past yielding lips, into Gokudera's mouth. He can't breathe; Gokudera's hands have slid once more to press mercilessly at his neck, somehow still intent on killing him distractedly. Knows not what he does. Yamamoto doesn't stop him, doesn't stop any of it, knows this will be only one second and doesn't want it to become half of one.
Errant Part of Town by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Cameras steal your soul. Gokudera pretends he believes in this to avoid any invasive picture; he’s never been photogenic, doesn’t want to try to be photogenic. He’s tired of portraits that capture essences that were never there, he’s tired of encouraging smiles before the shutter clicks, he’s tired of standing still.
Illuminating Realization Number One by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
Gokudera would roll his eyes pointedly, right up in Yamamoto’s face, if he weren’t gnawing on his lip and glaring down at his captive wrist, trying to dislodge his bracelet (with the cool hawk charm, Italian-bought!) from Yamamoto’s ugly sweater that seems to catch on everything.
Drabbles by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
There are reasons to kill.
5 Ways They Could Have Begun by teapoit (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
They’re both sitting on the couch in Tsuna’s house. Gokudera is crumpled as far away from Yamamoto as possible, arm curled protectively around his stomach. The wound there is shallow, freshly bandaged. Nothing on his face suggests any pain, but Yamamoto inches slowly towards him as if he’s impossibly injured. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, breath hitching, “Gokudera - Gokudera, look at me.” I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
Some Truths About Gokudera by teapoit (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Gokudera is a clingy twenty-year-old, the kind that sprouts inexplicably from a clingy teenage boy. Faultless aim, even when his hands are slick with blood and his eyes thick with the dust of idealism. He’s a walking contradiction: stashed to his eyebrows in dynamite but graduated from Namimori with top marks and a sheepish grin directed more at Tsuna than the cameraman. There is no end to his loyalty.
Attraction by kimofics (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
To Gokudera, his attraction to Yamamoto was like thick smoke and fine gun powder.
What Yamamoto Realized by eruferu (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
They were alone in the alley, save for the three now definitely dead assassins Gokudera had successfully bombed to afterlife, and it was raining so hard Yamamoto didn’t know if his friend’s skin felt colder because of the blood loss or the chilling temperature. Maybe it was both - Yamamoto just didn’t know anymore.
After Practice by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
(Someday, Gokudera will learn to say "please," will learn to ask for what he wants, will learn to start with tentative touches and insistent kisses. Yamamoto will learn what it means when Gokudera fidgets with the flip-top on his lighter.)
Ask Not the Same Day of Birth by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, NC-17)
They go back. Way back. Back through Family and blood and fights, laughter and scowls, bombs and smoke like memory. Way back. Back longer than the curve of Yamamoto's body arching off the floor. Longer than scratches trailing down Gokudera's sides. Longer than the litany-symphony-cacophony of noise they make that carries them through till dawn.
Years Coming by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
You watch them, laughing together, her eyes bright and her smile beautiful, like the ones you could never give to him because they hurt too much. Go ahead and watch them, and pretend like you always do that it doesn't hurt. Because nothing does, right? Nothing ever hurts at all; you are a fortress, impenetrable and aloof and why should you fucking care if he's engaged to this beautiful girl who you're only meeting for the first time just now. Not that he hasn't offered before; Yamamoto always offers, never wants to keep beautiful things to himself. He's so goddamn generous and you hate that and you love that and it's been your savior, your second chance so many times that you don't think you could count them all.
Three Attempts on Gokudera's Part to Give Yamamoto Culture, for the Good of the Vongola Family and All Associated by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
And he was a little terrified. He hadn't played in years. Not since he was too small for his feet to reach the floor from the tall bench. But he played the piano most nights in his dreams.
The Morning After by vampirepenguin (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Gokudera looks up - there's a flash of something like surprise and then he scowls. There are two plates on the narrow countertop, and two mugs, and a pot of that nasty coffee Gokudera likes, and it's all so domestic, Yamamoto wants to laugh.
Last Call Casualty by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
But then it's already game over; insert coin, isn't it? He's going the wrong way again, running blindly and haphazardly -- failing again at all the things that most people seem to find so easy to do. He'd fucked up all over again today, made the Tenth worry today, very nearly caused the Vongola to lose their Rain Guardian during a crucial time as such.
Katekyo Hitman Reborn: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Imagine That by Andrea Weiling (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
The first begins to garble. It adds on little tags like after I get out of this fucking shithole and after I beat up the bastard who did this to me, but the core of it remains intact. That's because he likes baseball, likes the feel of a perfect swing and not-so-much the smell of sweat but the feeling that he'd beat his record again, even if they hadn't won. He liked when he first stepped onto the field, and looked out at all the colors of the world, at the vibrant green and brown patches on the field, at the reddish dirt of the diamond and the mound. Sometimes at the faces he knew would be sitting above, at their faces, their excited and happy faces.
schiantarsi by actualize (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
Gokudera fitfully dreams in sadisms. It’s not uncommon, he thinks, not too strange, to remember the sharpness underneath his skin - broken fingers heal far faster than the memories. He dreams of burning blindfolds and pianos made of tin foil that crumbles when he lays his palms across the keys. In the worst of them he imagines a woman and what she might be saying (betraying, rhythmic, weighted with would-be truths) with her hands over his eyes as they both bleed out across the ivory.
Misplacement Theory by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, Gokudera/Tsuna, PG-13)
Time hardly ever matters anymore. Gokudera is still moving though, fueled by the memory of fireworks and summer nights, a sodden paper boat still trusting the ripples to push him forward, bit by agonizing bit. There are still missions to run, paperwork to deal with, the hollow technicalities of being the right hand to a body that is dead and buried.
♠ Five Ways Yamamoto Almost Confessed His Love to Gokudera by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
And it’s strange, Gokudera thinks, how Yamamoto can jog slowly, with such determination, through those thick-dropped torrents, as if he weren’t waterlogged and blinded by the rain that must be splattering in his eyes. As if he’s floating on all that water, somehow. Unaffected, letting the stings against thinly protected cuts and bare skin guide him. “Stupid,” Gokudera mutters for the both of them, but watches with squinted eyes, and supposes he should try to thank Yamamoto if he comes back with the cigarettes.
Secrecy Culture by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
It’s three in the morning when Gokudera’s cell phone jingles cheerfully in the pitch black of his room; a text message. Gokudera grabs it in a startled panic, Tsuna’s well-being on his mind, enemy threats on his mind. He looks at the sender’s name, grasping for comprehension.
Drop Your Weapon by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Sequel to Secrecy Culture.
Gokudera feels his tendons tighten to flight mode; Yamamoto’s so subtle, and yet it all bleeds onto the paper: last night, last night, last night. Blindly, he writes, Screw you. Stop interrupting the class. He throws it over a few giggling students’ heads and doesn’t turn around to see Yamamoto’s reaction.
Play the Victim Card by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
His tongue presses past yielding lips, into Gokudera's mouth. He can't breathe; Gokudera's hands have slid once more to press mercilessly at his neck, somehow still intent on killing him distractedly. Knows not what he does. Yamamoto doesn't stop him, doesn't stop any of it, knows this will be only one second and doesn't want it to become half of one.
Errant Part of Town by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Cameras steal your soul. Gokudera pretends he believes in this to avoid any invasive picture; he’s never been photogenic, doesn’t want to try to be photogenic. He’s tired of portraits that capture essences that were never there, he’s tired of encouraging smiles before the shutter clicks, he’s tired of standing still.
Illuminating Realization Number One by picnicbird (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
Gokudera would roll his eyes pointedly, right up in Yamamoto’s face, if he weren’t gnawing on his lip and glaring down at his captive wrist, trying to dislodge his bracelet (with the cool hawk charm, Italian-bought!) from Yamamoto’s ugly sweater that seems to catch on everything.
Drabbles by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
There are reasons to kill.
5 Ways They Could Have Begun by teapoit (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
They’re both sitting on the couch in Tsuna’s house. Gokudera is crumpled as far away from Yamamoto as possible, arm curled protectively around his stomach. The wound there is shallow, freshly bandaged. Nothing on his face suggests any pain, but Yamamoto inches slowly towards him as if he’s impossibly injured. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, breath hitching, “Gokudera - Gokudera, look at me.” I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
Some Truths About Gokudera by teapoit (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Gokudera is a clingy twenty-year-old, the kind that sprouts inexplicably from a clingy teenage boy. Faultless aim, even when his hands are slick with blood and his eyes thick with the dust of idealism. He’s a walking contradiction: stashed to his eyebrows in dynamite but graduated from Namimori with top marks and a sheepish grin directed more at Tsuna than the cameraman. There is no end to his loyalty.
Attraction by kimofics (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
To Gokudera, his attraction to Yamamoto was like thick smoke and fine gun powder.
What Yamamoto Realized by eruferu (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
They were alone in the alley, save for the three now definitely dead assassins Gokudera had successfully bombed to afterlife, and it was raining so hard Yamamoto didn’t know if his friend’s skin felt colder because of the blood loss or the chilling temperature. Maybe it was both - Yamamoto just didn’t know anymore.
After Practice by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, R)
(Someday, Gokudera will learn to say "please," will learn to ask for what he wants, will learn to start with tentative touches and insistent kisses. Yamamoto will learn what it means when Gokudera fidgets with the flip-top on his lighter.)
Ask Not the Same Day of Birth by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, NC-17)
They go back. Way back. Back through Family and blood and fights, laughter and scowls, bombs and smoke like memory. Way back. Back longer than the curve of Yamamoto's body arching off the floor. Longer than scratches trailing down Gokudera's sides. Longer than the litany-symphony-cacophony of noise they make that carries them through till dawn.
Years Coming by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
You watch them, laughing together, her eyes bright and her smile beautiful, like the ones you could never give to him because they hurt too much. Go ahead and watch them, and pretend like you always do that it doesn't hurt. Because nothing does, right? Nothing ever hurts at all; you are a fortress, impenetrable and aloof and why should you fucking care if he's engaged to this beautiful girl who you're only meeting for the first time just now. Not that he hasn't offered before; Yamamoto always offers, never wants to keep beautiful things to himself. He's so goddamn generous and you hate that and you love that and it's been your savior, your second chance so many times that you don't think you could count them all.
Three Attempts on Gokudera's Part to Give Yamamoto Culture, for the Good of the Vongola Family and All Associated by pollinia (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
And he was a little terrified. He hadn't played in years. Not since he was too small for his feet to reach the floor from the tall bench. But he played the piano most nights in his dreams.
The Morning After by vampirepenguin (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG-13)
Gokudera looks up - there's a flash of something like surprise and then he scowls. There are two plates on the narrow countertop, and two mugs, and a pot of that nasty coffee Gokudera likes, and it's all so domestic, Yamamoto wants to laugh.
Last Call Casualty by covalent (Yamamoto/Gokudera, PG)
But then it's already game over; insert coin, isn't it? He's going the wrong way again, running blindly and haphazardly -- failing again at all the things that most people seem to find so easy to do. He'd fucked up all over again today, made the Tenth worry today, very nearly caused the Vongola to lose their Rain Guardian during a crucial time as such.