[30_secrets] Second set
nervous
Chrome isn’t the uncertain young girl that she used to be, back when she joined Tsuna’s Tenth Generation family. She seldom fidgets with the hem of her skirt, or bites her lip, or displays other nervous habits that she had formed over the years.
Well, except when she’s nervous, of course.
“Kyoko should be down extremely soon!” Ryohei tells her brightly.
Chrome nods silently as she bites her lip and picks distractedly at the short hem of her skirt. It took a lot of courage (and encouragement from Mukuro-sama and Tsuna-kun) to ask Kyoko-chan out on a date - she wasn’t even sure that the brunet was so inclined, until Tsuna innocently mentioned it a week ago...
“Nervous?” the sun guardian continues, with a surprising amount of insight - and unsurprising lack of tact.
Fortunately, Kyoko comes down the stairs before Chrome is forced to answer the question, and hustles her date out of the house.
“Sorry if nii-san made you nervous or was bothering you, Chrome-chan,” Kyoko sighs, exasperated.
“Oh... It’s ok. I’m used to his... enthusiasm, by now,” Chrome assures her. In truth, she was nervous about Kyoko - worries about whether the brunet was doubting the wisdom of agreeing to go on a date, or deciding that she didn’t actually like Chrome, or-
Well, Chrome thinks, smiling as Kyoko casually slips her hand into the illusionists and laces their fingers together, why bother worry about that now?
grass
It starts like any of their stupid fights do - Ryohei says something wrong (or what Gokudera considers to be wrong) or vice versa - and then they’re off.
To be honest, Ryohei can’t remember exactly what was said, or who said it. Or why they’re even in the middle of a meadow in the first place.
It’s a bit hard to care, when Gokudera’s biting at his lips, fingers pulling ineffectually at Ryohei’s short hair. “Fucking Lawnhead. Your hair’s too damn short, grow it out,” the storm guardian hisses in aggravation.
“The first part sounds extremely good,” Ryohei groans, slipping calloused fingers up the back of Gokudera’s shirt. He isn’t sure when it happened, but the insulting nickname has become an extreme turn-on; not that he’ll ever tell Gokudera that. “Not so much the last part.”
“Just shut the fuck up for once,” the storm guardian bites out, shoving Ryohei to the grass and straddling his hips.
That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, either.
scar
Hana traces the scar on his temple, her delicate, smooth finger a soft pressure on Ryohei’s head. “I know how you got this one,” she murmurs. “Juvie gang, elementary school.”
Ryohei smiles faintly. “Did Kyoko tell you that?”
“Mm.” Her finger trails down Ryohei’s neck, halting at his ribs. Ryohei’s lip twitches as he flinches slightly - ticklish. “Broken rib. Boxing accident, middle school.”
“You were there,” Ryohei agrees.
Hana’s hand slips lower, halting just about his hip - a scar of the puckered stab wound that he received several months ago, on a mission as the Vongola sun guardian.”So what’s this one from?”
Ryohei forces a chuckle. “Cooking mishap, couple of months ago,” he lies. In the darkness of their bedroom, he doubts that Hana would be able to make out the expression on his face - it’s what always gives him away when he tries to lie. But he doesn’t want Hana to know about the mafia, and he certainly doesn’t want her to get involved any further than she unwittingly already is just by being in a relationship with him.
Hana giggles softly, her fingers tracing a path lower. “Good thing I can cook.”
wayward
Gokudera knows - of course he fucking knows. He’s not blind, damn it. Maybe a little dense, a little too stubborn, but not blind.
Anyone could see the way Yamamoto and Squalo looked at each other. And that pisses him off, it really does; because Yamamoto is Gokudera’s boyfriend. Squalo is his rival. He should just back the fuck off.
It makes him angry (angrier) with Yamamoto, not that the baseball idiot seems to notice if Gokudera is a little rough (rougher) when he returns from a mission in Italy, or from a spar with Squalo.
But the baseball idiot is fucking blind. He doesn’t seem to realize that Squalo likes him like that, or that his touchy-feely behaviour gets a lot touchier when it comes to the white-haired swordsman.
So Gokudera doesn’t say anything. Because he’s afraid that a wayward touch here and there, leaning too close to each other after a particularly gruelling spar, little things like that - well, they’ll become bigger things, and Gokudera will be left with no one.
Yamamoto is devoted to him, Gokudera knows that. But he can’t help the wayward thoughts that assault him every time he sees the two swordsmen together. Because Gokudera knows that Yamamoto could be just as devoted to Squalo, if he wanted to be.
bittersweet
After all the stress of the various trials the tenth generation Vongola family has had to face, Byakuran’s defeat being the most recent, all of the guardians and their boss are eager for some downtime. Lambo in particular is looking forward to a break, and not just because he doesn’t really like working.
For the past few years, Lambo has been teaching Chrome how to speak Italian, so that she can fulfill her dream of having a conversation in that language with her idol, Mukuro.
The lightning guardian loves spending time with her - she’s quiet, kind, everything that he loves in a girl and the antithesis of most women in the mafia.
Chrome, of course, only has eyes for Mukuro.
“Ciao, mi chiamo Chrome. Come stai?” the mist guardian says with a smile, her accent and intonation nearly flawless.
“Ahh, well done Chrome-chan,” Lambo praises her, forcing a smile. Her success is a bittersweet accomplishment - with every improvement, Lambo’s time with her slips away.
Chrome isn’t the uncertain young girl that she used to be, back when she joined Tsuna’s Tenth Generation family. She seldom fidgets with the hem of her skirt, or bites her lip, or displays other nervous habits that she had formed over the years.
Well, except when she’s nervous, of course.
“Kyoko should be down extremely soon!” Ryohei tells her brightly.
Chrome nods silently as she bites her lip and picks distractedly at the short hem of her skirt. It took a lot of courage (and encouragement from Mukuro-sama and Tsuna-kun) to ask Kyoko-chan out on a date - she wasn’t even sure that the brunet was so inclined, until Tsuna innocently mentioned it a week ago...
“Nervous?” the sun guardian continues, with a surprising amount of insight - and unsurprising lack of tact.
Fortunately, Kyoko comes down the stairs before Chrome is forced to answer the question, and hustles her date out of the house.
“Sorry if nii-san made you nervous or was bothering you, Chrome-chan,” Kyoko sighs, exasperated.
“Oh... It’s ok. I’m used to his... enthusiasm, by now,” Chrome assures her. In truth, she was nervous about Kyoko - worries about whether the brunet was doubting the wisdom of agreeing to go on a date, or deciding that she didn’t actually like Chrome, or-
Well, Chrome thinks, smiling as Kyoko casually slips her hand into the illusionists and laces their fingers together, why bother worry about that now?
grass
It starts like any of their stupid fights do - Ryohei says something wrong (or what Gokudera considers to be wrong) or vice versa - and then they’re off.
To be honest, Ryohei can’t remember exactly what was said, or who said it. Or why they’re even in the middle of a meadow in the first place.
It’s a bit hard to care, when Gokudera’s biting at his lips, fingers pulling ineffectually at Ryohei’s short hair. “Fucking Lawnhead. Your hair’s too damn short, grow it out,” the storm guardian hisses in aggravation.
“The first part sounds extremely good,” Ryohei groans, slipping calloused fingers up the back of Gokudera’s shirt. He isn’t sure when it happened, but the insulting nickname has become an extreme turn-on; not that he’ll ever tell Gokudera that. “Not so much the last part.”
“Just shut the fuck up for once,” the storm guardian bites out, shoving Ryohei to the grass and straddling his hips.
That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, either.
scar
Hana traces the scar on his temple, her delicate, smooth finger a soft pressure on Ryohei’s head. “I know how you got this one,” she murmurs. “Juvie gang, elementary school.”
Ryohei smiles faintly. “Did Kyoko tell you that?”
“Mm.” Her finger trails down Ryohei’s neck, halting at his ribs. Ryohei’s lip twitches as he flinches slightly - ticklish. “Broken rib. Boxing accident, middle school.”
“You were there,” Ryohei agrees.
Hana’s hand slips lower, halting just about his hip - a scar of the puckered stab wound that he received several months ago, on a mission as the Vongola sun guardian.”So what’s this one from?”
Ryohei forces a chuckle. “Cooking mishap, couple of months ago,” he lies. In the darkness of their bedroom, he doubts that Hana would be able to make out the expression on his face - it’s what always gives him away when he tries to lie. But he doesn’t want Hana to know about the mafia, and he certainly doesn’t want her to get involved any further than she unwittingly already is just by being in a relationship with him.
Hana giggles softly, her fingers tracing a path lower. “Good thing I can cook.”
wayward
Gokudera knows - of course he fucking knows. He’s not blind, damn it. Maybe a little dense, a little too stubborn, but not blind.
Anyone could see the way Yamamoto and Squalo looked at each other. And that pisses him off, it really does; because Yamamoto is Gokudera’s boyfriend. Squalo is his rival. He should just back the fuck off.
It makes him angry (angrier) with Yamamoto, not that the baseball idiot seems to notice if Gokudera is a little rough (rougher) when he returns from a mission in Italy, or from a spar with Squalo.
But the baseball idiot is fucking blind. He doesn’t seem to realize that Squalo likes him like that, or that his touchy-feely behaviour gets a lot touchier when it comes to the white-haired swordsman.
So Gokudera doesn’t say anything. Because he’s afraid that a wayward touch here and there, leaning too close to each other after a particularly gruelling spar, little things like that - well, they’ll become bigger things, and Gokudera will be left with no one.
Yamamoto is devoted to him, Gokudera knows that. But he can’t help the wayward thoughts that assault him every time he sees the two swordsmen together. Because Gokudera knows that Yamamoto could be just as devoted to Squalo, if he wanted to be.
bittersweet
After all the stress of the various trials the tenth generation Vongola family has had to face, Byakuran’s defeat being the most recent, all of the guardians and their boss are eager for some downtime. Lambo in particular is looking forward to a break, and not just because he doesn’t really like working.
For the past few years, Lambo has been teaching Chrome how to speak Italian, so that she can fulfill her dream of having a conversation in that language with her idol, Mukuro.
The lightning guardian loves spending time with her - she’s quiet, kind, everything that he loves in a girl and the antithesis of most women in the mafia.
Chrome, of course, only has eyes for Mukuro.
“Ciao, mi chiamo Chrome. Come stai?” the mist guardian says with a smile, her accent and intonation nearly flawless.
“Ahh, well done Chrome-chan,” Lambo praises her, forcing a smile. Her success is a bittersweet accomplishment - with every improvement, Lambo’s time with her slips away.