[KHR] Sweet Belief
Title: Sweet Belief
Pairing: TYL!8059
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hard yaoi, m/m sex.
Word Count: 1547
Notes: A few things to say:
1. I only read up to volume 16. So please, please, please don't make any spoilers to me saying "Oh, but this story is wrong because it happens like this". I'm already fighting very hard with my curious side to not read the spoilers xD. Just take this story as it is!
2. I'm not English and I don't have an English beta reader. So please excuse the grammar mistakes that you'll probably find. Help me correct them, but please don't be rude. I don't usually write in English.
3. This is my This my answer to the Downpour: 8059 challenge prompt 8059challenge 8. The couch. I hope it'll be as good as the other entries ^^.
4. I love comments!
It was just like he had imagined the moment, in the hours he passed waiting: Gokudera‘s eyes were full of surprise, as he looked at the adult Yamamoto, who was sitting on the stairs of his old apartment.
He still had on the Armani suit he was wearing when he went to the Tenth’s tomb, a cigarette between his lips, his hair a bit messy.
- What the hell are you doing here?-
Yamamoto sat up, smiling like always.
- Looks like I’ve been transported in the past too. I didn’t know where to go and since I met your past self, I thought you were going to be here too. -
Gokudera walked closer to him.
- So the Tenth is alone now? With a bunch of stupid kids?-
He was angry, but he was also trying to suppress any physical manifestation of it.
Yeah, he was very different now; a day with the old Gokudera and he got already used again to his old attitude, wild and straightforward, almost forgetting that there was a different Gokudera to deal with now.
- We were that bunch of kids, Hayato. I’m sure Tsuna is safe with them. Also, I think Hibari’ll find them soon. -
Gokudera didn’t answer, just walked to the door, opening it.
- Come in. -
The house was just like he remembered it: obsessively clean, organized, perfect; Hayato could have changed a lot during the years, but that side of him didn’t.
- Mind if I use the bathroom? I was kind of fighting before I got here. -
Gokudera didn’t bothered to look at him, while he walked into the kitchen.
- Help yourself. -
He washed his face and sighed is relief as the fresh water met his skin: his reflection in the mirror was merciless as the hard light of Gokudera’s bathroom illuminated his pale, tired face, the scar on his chin looking so out of place in the setting of their old days.
Trying to ignore it, he went back to find Gokudera.
The man was making coffee, his expensive shirt out of his pants, the tie and the jacket were on the couch. Forgotten.
He was fighting with his old coffee machine, like he did so many times when they were young; Yamamoto couldn’t suppress a smile, remembering all the days they passed there, making love, doing homework, fighting.
It felt like it was someone else’s life.
A curtain of blood clouded his present, obscuring all the good memories.
He went closer to Hayato, slowly putting his hands on his hips, under his shirt, touching his soft, warm skin gently.
Gokudera didn’t escaped the touch and Yamamoto relaxed.
- Last time you allowed me to be so close to you, was after my dad’s funeral. -
Gokudera didn’t answer, just kept preparing the machine for the coffee, not even turning around.
Last time they touched, it was for a raw and desperate session of lovemaking in Yamamoto’s apartment, almost 4 months before.
His father was dead and it was his fault, but, as they were fucking like it was the last thing they were going to do it their life, Gokudera kept whispering to him.
- It was not your fault. - gently stroking his hair. It was the sweetest thing Gokudera had told him in years.
- Is this a good sign?-
Yamamoto whispered the last part, but Gokudera had no reactions.
He kept stroking his skin, slowly caressing.
Gokudera finished preparing the machine, turned it on and stepped away from Yamamoto’s hands.
He sat on the couch and lit a cigarette.
- What you want me to do, Takeshi? Forget everything just because we are back here? In this house? In this years? Do you really think I can do it? That I can forget the feeling of the Tenth blood on my hands? That I can forget how many things happened?-
Yamamoto didn’t answer for a couple of minutes, just staring at him.
- You never called me “Takeshi” in this house. It was only “Yamamoto” or “baseball idiot”. -
Gokudera couldn’t avoid a little smile.
- I’m not asking you to forget, because I can’t too. Just… don’t kill this part of us too. -
Gokudera sighed, tired from months, years of fight, always in the first line, always covered in his, his enemies and his friends blood.
- Don’t kill the only thing that keeps me still alive, Hayato. -
The coffee machine announced that she was ready to deliver the warm liquid with a bip and Yamamoto went to the kitchen to prepare it.
When he came back, Gokudera was lighting a new cigarette; he handed him the warm cup and the white haired man took a small sip of coffee.
- I just thought that if we were not together anymore… the thought of losing you would have stopped haunting me. -
Yamamoto sat on the couch too, abandoning his cup next to Gokudera’s, not touching him or trying to do it.
- I already lost too many friends, too many people I loved. The Tenth. I just can’t… I just can’t stay with you, knowing that you could die anytime. I thought that ignoring you, not returning your calls and meeting you just at the meetings would have helped. -
- It didn’t?-
- No. It didn’t. -
A moment of silence, the smell of coffee filled the air.
- This is the first time you’re actually talking to me. -
Gokudera turned his head to face Yamamoto; their bodies were so close, like they hadn’t been in months.
- I can’t deal with this things very well, you should know it. I’m not a great talker. -
Yamamoto’s hand went to stroke his hair and Gokudera didn’t pulled it away, closing his eyes instead.
- I just want to feel you again, Hayato. I just… I just want to know that I’m still alive, that I’m still capable of feeling something. -
- Yeah… me too. -
Their lips met, in a battle of teeth and tongues; desperate, hard, violent, just like them.
Yamamoto’s hands slid under Gokudera’s shirt, touching everything they can.
Gokudera took off his jacket and his tie, struggling to take off his shirt, still kissing him.
They parted for air, quickly undressing each other, like slowing down would have given them the time to rethink what they were doing.
But, apparently, Gokudera wasn’t going to; he laid back on the couch, legs opened and that sexy, playful and dirty look Yamamoto always loved.
- Look who’s back… -
Yamamoto placed himself between Gokudera’s legs, touching his body, his hands shaking for the excitement bottled for too much time inside his body, that was finally allowed to come out.
Gokudera’s skin was warm under his hands, sensitive and soft; their lips met again for another mind blowing kiss, their hips moving against each other in a frantic rhythm.
Yamamoto pushed Gokudera more down on the couch, controlling the kiss and smiling when he heard Gokudera moaning more, when he started touching him.
Gokudera parted from his lips and closed his eyes, enjoying Yamamoto’s hand on his cock, savouring the moment.
It felt so good, so desperate, so right.
- God, you don’t know how much I missed this. -
Yamamoto was kissing his neck, licking the sweaty skin.
- I needed you so bad, Hayato. -
Gokudera pushed him away from his chest, looking into his eyes: they were burning with rage and passion.
- Then why don’t you just shout the fucking up and fuck me, you useless baseball idiot?-
Under the serious face, he could almost hear and see Gokudera’s laugh.
Yamamoto smiled, kissing him again.
- At your service. -
Yamamoto took a couple of seconds to look at Gokudera’s naked body: slightly sweaty, hard against his own erection, his eyes clouded by desire and passion.
Yamamoto licked his lips, smiling, before kissing him again.
Gokudera closed his eyes, allowing his body to feel everything Yamamoto was doing to him, every kiss, every caress, every touch on his sensitive skin.
He softly moaned his name when Yamamoto entered him slowly, pain melted with pleasure, in the unique mixture that was their love: fighting even when they were making love.
Gokudera held Yamamoto close to him, a desperate moan at every powerful trust, their lips crashing against each other, devouring their mouths, Yamamoto’s hand touching him.
He cried out his name when he came, Yamamoto painfully biting his shoulder.
- God… I love you so much. -
Gokudera smiled, his mind confused and clouded by the pleasure, while he caressed the other man’s hair, slowly.
- Yeah… I know. -
He tried to move, but Yamamoto’s weight held him down on the couch; it was a feeling he had almost forgot, the feeling of another body on his, pressed so close he could hear his heartbeat.
- Move, idiot. I’m freezing. -
Yamamoto smiled and allowed Gokudera to get up.
He followed Gokudera with his eyes, who was heading for the bedroom, an expectant look on his face.
Gokudera stopped at the door.
- Are you coming or not, baseball freak?-
Pairing: TYL!8059
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hard yaoi, m/m sex.
Word Count: 1547
Notes: A few things to say:
1. I only read up to volume 16. So please, please, please don't make any spoilers to me saying "Oh, but this story is wrong because it happens like this". I'm already fighting very hard with my curious side to not read the spoilers xD. Just take this story as it is!
2. I'm not English and I don't have an English beta reader. So please excuse the grammar mistakes that you'll probably find. Help me correct them, but please don't be rude. I don't usually write in English.
3. This is my This my answer to the Downpour: 8059 challenge prompt 8059challenge 8. The couch. I hope it'll be as good as the other entries ^^.
4. I love comments!
It was just like he had imagined the moment, in the hours he passed waiting: Gokudera‘s eyes were full of surprise, as he looked at the adult Yamamoto, who was sitting on the stairs of his old apartment.
He still had on the Armani suit he was wearing when he went to the Tenth’s tomb, a cigarette between his lips, his hair a bit messy.
- What the hell are you doing here?-
Yamamoto sat up, smiling like always.
- Looks like I’ve been transported in the past too. I didn’t know where to go and since I met your past self, I thought you were going to be here too. -
Gokudera walked closer to him.
- So the Tenth is alone now? With a bunch of stupid kids?-
He was angry, but he was also trying to suppress any physical manifestation of it.
Yeah, he was very different now; a day with the old Gokudera and he got already used again to his old attitude, wild and straightforward, almost forgetting that there was a different Gokudera to deal with now.
- We were that bunch of kids, Hayato. I’m sure Tsuna is safe with them. Also, I think Hibari’ll find them soon. -
Gokudera didn’t answer, just walked to the door, opening it.
- Come in. -
The house was just like he remembered it: obsessively clean, organized, perfect; Hayato could have changed a lot during the years, but that side of him didn’t.
- Mind if I use the bathroom? I was kind of fighting before I got here. -
Gokudera didn’t bothered to look at him, while he walked into the kitchen.
- Help yourself. -
He washed his face and sighed is relief as the fresh water met his skin: his reflection in the mirror was merciless as the hard light of Gokudera’s bathroom illuminated his pale, tired face, the scar on his chin looking so out of place in the setting of their old days.
Trying to ignore it, he went back to find Gokudera.
The man was making coffee, his expensive shirt out of his pants, the tie and the jacket were on the couch. Forgotten.
He was fighting with his old coffee machine, like he did so many times when they were young; Yamamoto couldn’t suppress a smile, remembering all the days they passed there, making love, doing homework, fighting.
It felt like it was someone else’s life.
A curtain of blood clouded his present, obscuring all the good memories.
He went closer to Hayato, slowly putting his hands on his hips, under his shirt, touching his soft, warm skin gently.
Gokudera didn’t escaped the touch and Yamamoto relaxed.
- Last time you allowed me to be so close to you, was after my dad’s funeral. -
Gokudera didn’t answer, just kept preparing the machine for the coffee, not even turning around.
Last time they touched, it was for a raw and desperate session of lovemaking in Yamamoto’s apartment, almost 4 months before.
His father was dead and it was his fault, but, as they were fucking like it was the last thing they were going to do it their life, Gokudera kept whispering to him.
- It was not your fault. - gently stroking his hair. It was the sweetest thing Gokudera had told him in years.
- Is this a good sign?-
Yamamoto whispered the last part, but Gokudera had no reactions.
He kept stroking his skin, slowly caressing.
Gokudera finished preparing the machine, turned it on and stepped away from Yamamoto’s hands.
He sat on the couch and lit a cigarette.
- What you want me to do, Takeshi? Forget everything just because we are back here? In this house? In this years? Do you really think I can do it? That I can forget the feeling of the Tenth blood on my hands? That I can forget how many things happened?-
Yamamoto didn’t answer for a couple of minutes, just staring at him.
- You never called me “Takeshi” in this house. It was only “Yamamoto” or “baseball idiot”. -
Gokudera couldn’t avoid a little smile.
- I’m not asking you to forget, because I can’t too. Just… don’t kill this part of us too. -
Gokudera sighed, tired from months, years of fight, always in the first line, always covered in his, his enemies and his friends blood.
- Don’t kill the only thing that keeps me still alive, Hayato. -
The coffee machine announced that she was ready to deliver the warm liquid with a bip and Yamamoto went to the kitchen to prepare it.
When he came back, Gokudera was lighting a new cigarette; he handed him the warm cup and the white haired man took a small sip of coffee.
- I just thought that if we were not together anymore… the thought of losing you would have stopped haunting me. -
Yamamoto sat on the couch too, abandoning his cup next to Gokudera’s, not touching him or trying to do it.
- I already lost too many friends, too many people I loved. The Tenth. I just can’t… I just can’t stay with you, knowing that you could die anytime. I thought that ignoring you, not returning your calls and meeting you just at the meetings would have helped. -
- It didn’t?-
- No. It didn’t. -
A moment of silence, the smell of coffee filled the air.
- This is the first time you’re actually talking to me. -
Gokudera turned his head to face Yamamoto; their bodies were so close, like they hadn’t been in months.
- I can’t deal with this things very well, you should know it. I’m not a great talker. -
Yamamoto’s hand went to stroke his hair and Gokudera didn’t pulled it away, closing his eyes instead.
- I just want to feel you again, Hayato. I just… I just want to know that I’m still alive, that I’m still capable of feeling something. -
- Yeah… me too. -
Their lips met, in a battle of teeth and tongues; desperate, hard, violent, just like them.
Yamamoto’s hands slid under Gokudera’s shirt, touching everything they can.
Gokudera took off his jacket and his tie, struggling to take off his shirt, still kissing him.
They parted for air, quickly undressing each other, like slowing down would have given them the time to rethink what they were doing.
But, apparently, Gokudera wasn’t going to; he laid back on the couch, legs opened and that sexy, playful and dirty look Yamamoto always loved.
- Look who’s back… -
Yamamoto placed himself between Gokudera’s legs, touching his body, his hands shaking for the excitement bottled for too much time inside his body, that was finally allowed to come out.
Gokudera’s skin was warm under his hands, sensitive and soft; their lips met again for another mind blowing kiss, their hips moving against each other in a frantic rhythm.
Yamamoto pushed Gokudera more down on the couch, controlling the kiss and smiling when he heard Gokudera moaning more, when he started touching him.
Gokudera parted from his lips and closed his eyes, enjoying Yamamoto’s hand on his cock, savouring the moment.
It felt so good, so desperate, so right.
- God, you don’t know how much I missed this. -
Yamamoto was kissing his neck, licking the sweaty skin.
- I needed you so bad, Hayato. -
Gokudera pushed him away from his chest, looking into his eyes: they were burning with rage and passion.
- Then why don’t you just shout the fucking up and fuck me, you useless baseball idiot?-
Under the serious face, he could almost hear and see Gokudera’s laugh.
Yamamoto smiled, kissing him again.
- At your service. -
Yamamoto took a couple of seconds to look at Gokudera’s naked body: slightly sweaty, hard against his own erection, his eyes clouded by desire and passion.
Yamamoto licked his lips, smiling, before kissing him again.
Gokudera closed his eyes, allowing his body to feel everything Yamamoto was doing to him, every kiss, every caress, every touch on his sensitive skin.
He softly moaned his name when Yamamoto entered him slowly, pain melted with pleasure, in the unique mixture that was their love: fighting even when they were making love.
Gokudera held Yamamoto close to him, a desperate moan at every powerful trust, their lips crashing against each other, devouring their mouths, Yamamoto’s hand touching him.
He cried out his name when he came, Yamamoto painfully biting his shoulder.
- God… I love you so much. -
Gokudera smiled, his mind confused and clouded by the pleasure, while he caressed the other man’s hair, slowly.
- Yeah… I know. -
He tried to move, but Yamamoto’s weight held him down on the couch; it was a feeling he had almost forgot, the feeling of another body on his, pressed so close he could hear his heartbeat.
- Move, idiot. I’m freezing. -
Yamamoto smiled and allowed Gokudera to get up.
He followed Gokudera with his eyes, who was heading for the bedroom, an expectant look on his face.
Gokudera stopped at the door.
- Are you coming or not, baseball freak?-