(no subject)
Random drabble time! I wrote these a while ago but I lost all my drive to finish a 100.
Beginnings
Gokudera’s seen men with the same easy smile get gunned down unawares, he’s seen those faded expressions clenched on frozen corpses fished out of the river, rarely has he seen a smile like that on the living... the competent. So he stubs out his cigarette and growls out, “Who the fuck are you?”
Middles
It’s the start of the third inning and it’s his turn. From the pitcher’s mound Yamamoto glances to bleachers and is very pleased to see that he’s still there.
Ends
There are always bigger things to worry about. Such as life, family and unpaid bills for instance. But every single time he teeters dangerously over the edge… in that hazy numb euphoria he can’t help but surrender what could possibly be his last moments alive to think of him.
Days
Gokudera is always released from the hospital earlier than Yamamoto. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to return and be the one greeted for a change.
Shore
“I threw it further.”
“Yeah, well. Mine made a bigger splash.”
“That’s because you added a dynamite stick.”
“Shut up. It’s still bigger.”
Trust
No one values a turned back more than the Rain Guardian does.
Purple
Once they both turned up wearing the same shirt and Gokudera stomed home and never came back.
Friends
Even when Gokudera’s down and broken he still finds the energy to cuss. However his hoarse “No, fuck you” sounds way more like a “no, thank you.”
Yamamoto chuckles softly and just continues to stand by.
Family
Their rivalry runs so deep, Takeshi wouldn’t be surprised if it was burned into their blood. If they weren’t together he fancies that their competition would carry on through their children and their children’s children and their children’s children’s children and their children’s children’s children’s children…
When he shares this with Hayato, the man rolls his eyes and kisses him to shut him up.
Too Much
Just for fun, Yamamoto tried on all of Gokudera’s trinkets… the ones that fit anyway. The weight and jangle was heavy and foreign but oddly comforting. Gokudera took in one look and his mouth went all twitchy. Either he was highly disturbed or he was smothering a laugh.
Not Enough
Tsuna really doesn’t get it. The new titles of “Right hand man” and “Left hand man” will not pacify a goddamn thing. Ever.
Lunch
When they share a plate of spaghetti, he can’t help but wish like crazy that they’ll roll up the same strand of pasta onto their forks at least once in their lifetime. It could be like the red string of fate… Italian style.
Food
He barely catches those looks that brim with silent anguish and wretched guilt. They all last less than a millisecond on her face but they’re enough to make his stomach churn as he spends the rest of the evening nursing a barely conscious Gokudera.
Tears
When Italy lost the World Cup in the finals, Yamamoto swore he’d never seen Gokudera cry harder in his life.
Lost
When he finally masters Italian, he can’t help but miss his ignorance. He misses listening to Hayato speak in this foreign babel, free of definition and meaning. The only thing that existed then was his rolling voice in his mother tongue.
Innuendo
“You know, I had this hilarious dream last night! We were playing major league baseball and you were the pitcher and I was the catcher-”
“Please. Crawl in a hole and die.”
Slave
People are quick to antagonize Gokudera when they’ve seen how patient Yamamoto’s been with him. The Rain Guardian cringes at every guilt ridden crack he sees fracture his partner’s resolve. No… no, no. It’s not supposed to be this way. He didn’t want to finally break through to him like this.
Beginnings
Gokudera’s seen men with the same easy smile get gunned down unawares, he’s seen those faded expressions clenched on frozen corpses fished out of the river, rarely has he seen a smile like that on the living... the competent. So he stubs out his cigarette and growls out, “Who the fuck are you?”
Middles
It’s the start of the third inning and it’s his turn. From the pitcher’s mound Yamamoto glances to bleachers and is very pleased to see that he’s still there.
Ends
There are always bigger things to worry about. Such as life, family and unpaid bills for instance. But every single time he teeters dangerously over the edge… in that hazy numb euphoria he can’t help but surrender what could possibly be his last moments alive to think of him.
Days
Gokudera is always released from the hospital earlier than Yamamoto. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to return and be the one greeted for a change.
Shore
“I threw it further.”
“Yeah, well. Mine made a bigger splash.”
“That’s because you added a dynamite stick.”
“Shut up. It’s still bigger.”
Trust
No one values a turned back more than the Rain Guardian does.
Purple
Once they both turned up wearing the same shirt and Gokudera stomed home and never came back.
Friends
Even when Gokudera’s down and broken he still finds the energy to cuss. However his hoarse “No, fuck you” sounds way more like a “no, thank you.”
Yamamoto chuckles softly and just continues to stand by.
Family
Their rivalry runs so deep, Takeshi wouldn’t be surprised if it was burned into their blood. If they weren’t together he fancies that their competition would carry on through their children and their children’s children and their children’s children’s children and their children’s children’s children’s children…
When he shares this with Hayato, the man rolls his eyes and kisses him to shut him up.
Too Much
Just for fun, Yamamoto tried on all of Gokudera’s trinkets… the ones that fit anyway. The weight and jangle was heavy and foreign but oddly comforting. Gokudera took in one look and his mouth went all twitchy. Either he was highly disturbed or he was smothering a laugh.
Not Enough
Tsuna really doesn’t get it. The new titles of “Right hand man” and “Left hand man” will not pacify a goddamn thing. Ever.
Lunch
When they share a plate of spaghetti, he can’t help but wish like crazy that they’ll roll up the same strand of pasta onto their forks at least once in their lifetime. It could be like the red string of fate… Italian style.
Food
He barely catches those looks that brim with silent anguish and wretched guilt. They all last less than a millisecond on her face but they’re enough to make his stomach churn as he spends the rest of the evening nursing a barely conscious Gokudera.
Tears
When Italy lost the World Cup in the finals, Yamamoto swore he’d never seen Gokudera cry harder in his life.
Lost
When he finally masters Italian, he can’t help but miss his ignorance. He misses listening to Hayato speak in this foreign babel, free of definition and meaning. The only thing that existed then was his rolling voice in his mother tongue.
Innuendo
“You know, I had this hilarious dream last night! We were playing major league baseball and you were the pitcher and I was the catcher-”
“Please. Crawl in a hole and die.”
Slave
People are quick to antagonize Gokudera when they’ve seen how patient Yamamoto’s been with him. The Rain Guardian cringes at every guilt ridden crack he sees fracture his partner’s resolve. No… no, no. It’s not supposed to be this way. He didn’t want to finally break through to him like this.