H - Hurt/Comfort - Gokudera and Shamal (Cairnsy)
I have an urge to title this '7 Years of Bad Luck'. Also, my Shamal canon is shaky. I don't know where this came from.
***Seven***
The first explosive he ever gave Hayato was a tiny flashbang, not even as powerful as a common firecracker, probably only useful for scaring off small, timid animals. Shamal didn't think to himself that it was his intention at the time, but he should've realized it and gone with the flow when the tiny explosive went off in Hayato's hand, as planned.
But when the boy's lower lip started quivering, his face slowly turning the same abused red as his hands (and he never thought about it that way, but of course that flashbang was nothing against his own callused palms, but the boy was still practically a baby, with hands softer than a woman's), Shamal found himself kneeling down, and words came out of his mouth against his better judgement.
"Don't cry," he said sternly. "You wanted me to teach you, and I thought you were old enough to handle it. Prove it to me, Hayato. I didn't want to show this to a baby."
Hayato had bitten his lip to stop the quivering, and even though his eyes still looked watery, he didn't cry. In retrospect, Shamal couldn't really decide if his words had been a mistake or not.
***Fourteen***
Gokudera was stubborn and obstinate and too proud to ask for help. Shamal was likewise too contrary and jaded to be the bigger man and just give it to him. It made training torturous for the former and tedious for the latter. And when all was said and done, it was another day in a long string of days when Gokudera ended up nursing burns and cuts and simmering resentment. Shamal couldn't do much about the last without ruining his reputation for being a quack and a slacker and a generally useless human being, and he couldn't do much for the two former without going against his rule of only treating girls.
But what he could do was make sure that the first aid kit was stocked with bandages and ointment for the burns, and band-aids for the papercuts. And every once in awhile, he leaves an unopened pack of cigarettes lying around, as if by accident.
The cigarettes would disappear by morning, only to be mysteriously replaced by a fresh pack in the same spot a few days later. One day he even found that the replacements were his favorite brand from Italy. He smiled to himself as he lit one up, breathing in the minty flavor. Maybe today he'll show Gokudera the schematics for the Rocket Bombs.
***Twenty-one***
It was exactly 3:12AM when he came out of the operating room, feeling the craving for nicotine like a tangible thing. The waiting area was deserted except for one person, and he sauntered over. Hayato looked up at him from where he was typing steadily on his laptop - no doubt finishing up the report on the Poison Scorpion's mission, as the Poison Scorpion herself was rather indisposed at the moment - and after a moment, he saved and closed the computer.
Wordlessly, he offered his pack. Shamal took one and lit up with blatant disregard to the hospital's No Smoking signs. It was a Vongola owned, Vongola operated hospital, and Vongola's own Right Hand man was offering him the cancer stick, so he gave even less of a damn than usual. In return, even though Shamal was still in his scrubs, it was a simple matter to dig out the spare set of sunglasses from his back pocket (they were hideous, huge things, with lenses so dark he could barely see anything unless it was high noon) and hand them over.
He didn't say: she will be fine, even though it was a close thing, or wear the damn glasses, I'm not giving you a bed if you see her face and pass out. "The sedatives will probably wear off in another four hours or so," he said after a long drag. "Be nice to the nurses."
***
End
Majo
edit: I know I can't make up my mind on whether to use Gokudera's first or last name. I'll decide tomorrow.
***Seven***
The first explosive he ever gave Hayato was a tiny flashbang, not even as powerful as a common firecracker, probably only useful for scaring off small, timid animals. Shamal didn't think to himself that it was his intention at the time, but he should've realized it and gone with the flow when the tiny explosive went off in Hayato's hand, as planned.
But when the boy's lower lip started quivering, his face slowly turning the same abused red as his hands (and he never thought about it that way, but of course that flashbang was nothing against his own callused palms, but the boy was still practically a baby, with hands softer than a woman's), Shamal found himself kneeling down, and words came out of his mouth against his better judgement.
"Don't cry," he said sternly. "You wanted me to teach you, and I thought you were old enough to handle it. Prove it to me, Hayato. I didn't want to show this to a baby."
Hayato had bitten his lip to stop the quivering, and even though his eyes still looked watery, he didn't cry. In retrospect, Shamal couldn't really decide if his words had been a mistake or not.
***Fourteen***
Gokudera was stubborn and obstinate and too proud to ask for help. Shamal was likewise too contrary and jaded to be the bigger man and just give it to him. It made training torturous for the former and tedious for the latter. And when all was said and done, it was another day in a long string of days when Gokudera ended up nursing burns and cuts and simmering resentment. Shamal couldn't do much about the last without ruining his reputation for being a quack and a slacker and a generally useless human being, and he couldn't do much for the two former without going against his rule of only treating girls.
But what he could do was make sure that the first aid kit was stocked with bandages and ointment for the burns, and band-aids for the papercuts. And every once in awhile, he leaves an unopened pack of cigarettes lying around, as if by accident.
The cigarettes would disappear by morning, only to be mysteriously replaced by a fresh pack in the same spot a few days later. One day he even found that the replacements were his favorite brand from Italy. He smiled to himself as he lit one up, breathing in the minty flavor. Maybe today he'll show Gokudera the schematics for the Rocket Bombs.
***Twenty-one***
It was exactly 3:12AM when he came out of the operating room, feeling the craving for nicotine like a tangible thing. The waiting area was deserted except for one person, and he sauntered over. Hayato looked up at him from where he was typing steadily on his laptop - no doubt finishing up the report on the Poison Scorpion's mission, as the Poison Scorpion herself was rather indisposed at the moment - and after a moment, he saved and closed the computer.
Wordlessly, he offered his pack. Shamal took one and lit up with blatant disregard to the hospital's No Smoking signs. It was a Vongola owned, Vongola operated hospital, and Vongola's own Right Hand man was offering him the cancer stick, so he gave even less of a damn than usual. In return, even though Shamal was still in his scrubs, it was a simple matter to dig out the spare set of sunglasses from his back pocket (they were hideous, huge things, with lenses so dark he could barely see anything unless it was high noon) and hand them over.
He didn't say: she will be fine, even though it was a close thing, or wear the damn glasses, I'm not giving you a bed if you see her face and pass out. "The sedatives will probably wear off in another four hours or so," he said after a long drag. "Be nice to the nurses."
***
End
Majo
edit: I know I can't make up my mind on whether to use Gokudera's first or last name. I'll decide tomorrow.