(no subject)
sleeping hours
yamagoku, fully and completely. set in their final year of highschool. they're in a relationship!
this is also painfully pg.
there wasn't any specific reason yamamoto decided to wake gokudera up that night.
“Gokudera?”
“Ngh.”
“Are you asleep?”
“Obviously not, you imbecile.” His voice was groggy, and he most likely was awakened by Yamamoto’s question, but he didn’t do anything other than move a bit, shifting the arm draped across Yamamoto’s chest up, drifting fingers in lazy patterns across his skin. Both were silent for a moment, steady breathing and chirping crickets the only sounds filling the air.
It was late, and they were both exhausted. Between college entrance exams and championship games, neither had much time to spend alone-or, for that matter, with each other. Gokudera took it upon himself to make sure Yamamoto returned with him after the game, have a make out session (to which Yamamoto was more than happy to initiate, still in his post-victory high), and shower (separately) before cuddling (though Gokudera would deny it) on the couch to watch television. After food was digested, three anime reruns, and one old samurai movie (at Yamamoto’s insistence), Gokudera forcibly dragged Yamamoto away from the screen to the bedroom, where he had read aloud (also at Yamamoto’s insistence) an exciting book on molecular science, and Yamamoto ran his fingers lazily through gray hair, enjoying the sound of Gokudera’s voice more than the subject matter itself.
Gokudera dozed off first, and Yamamoto had extracted the book from his grip, saving the page and setting it gently on the bedside table. Reclining on the bed, Yamamoto smiled, and Gokudera repositioned.
Twenty minutes later, Yamamoto woke him up.
“Oh, haha, I guess so,” he said, looking away from Gokudera to the ceiling, counting the cracks while trying to come up with a better reason for waking up Gokudera than ‘I just wanted to talk to you some more.’ So far, he didn’t have any good ideas.
Gokudera groaned, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at Yamamoto blearily. "You fucking woke me up for no reason, didn't you." He gave him A Look (or, as much of a look as he could manage when his hair was sticking up from sleep and he was wearing only a pair of briefs). Yamamoto smiled, one of those stupid, loving smiles, and leaned down to give him a kiss.
"Maybe. Would you mind?" he asked, and threaded a hand through Gokudera's hair, pressing another kiss onto his lips.
Gokudera frowned. "Yes. I was asleep. And comfortable, damnit." Mostly because on the nights Yamamoto stayed over he was always warm, and always slept better, instead of shivering under his less-than-expensive blankets, but he'd never go as far as admitting that. Sighing a bit, he flopped back down onto the bed, repositioning himself against Yamamoto's side. He was past the point of playing prickly boyfriend--at least, when he was this tired he was.
"Are you staying in Japan for university?" Yamamoto's question was out of nowhere, and Gokudera opened his eyes, moving his head to look at Yamamoto's face.
"Well that was random." He paused. "I... haven't decided yet."
Yamamoto's smile was lopsided, and it make warmth spread through Gokudera's stomach. "You'll probably get in anywhere you want, so you won't have a problem. Me, I'm just hoping for a scholarship." He looked away from Gokudera, up to the ceiling, counting the cracks again. There was a tense silence that lingered longer than either would have liked. Then:
"Do you want me to stay?" Gokudera's gaze was trained on Yamamoto's jaw, and when Yamamoto looked down at him, he could almost see portcullises opening and guards being reprieved from their constant defense. Metaphorically, of course. Gokudera wasn't actually a castle. But the idea remained, and Yamamoto bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to answer.
"I'm not gonna deny it," he said finally, looking away from Gokudera, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. "I mean, if you went back to Italy I might end up being jealous of an entire country..." He trailed off, and Gokudera smacked him; Yamamoto just laughed, and pulled Gokudera back down beside him on the bed. "It's up to you. But if you do go, I expect you to at least come visit for some of my baseball games!"
Gokudera rolled his eyes and didn't say anything, just moved closer and let his eyelids fall shut. He wasn't really sure what would happen to them after high school--aside from the obvious thing of following Tsuna until the day they died--and Yamamoto's worries weren't completely baseless. Italian universities were contacted, after all. Gokudera didn't like the idea of his options being limited.
But.
But even if they had been contacted, no decision had been made, nothing finalized, and it wouldn't be for a few more months. There was still time to decide.
Gokudera always assumed that the most romantic moments in a person's life happened when they were begged to stay. It generally happened at a train station, or an airport, with someone chasing the main character down, until he or she finally found the object of their affection, and managed to keep him from leaving. Yamamoto always saw the beauty in smaller gestures, never one for theatrics; very different from Gokudera.
As sleep fogged his mind, Gokudera knew a simple question wouldn't be enough to keep him from going to Italy after the school year ended. He also knew, as Yamamoto shifted, arms tightening their hold around him, that this, what he had right here, was more than the enough to keep him next to Yamamoto for longer than he'd like to admit.
end
yamagoku, fully and completely. set in their final year of highschool. they're in a relationship!
this is also painfully pg.
there wasn't any specific reason yamamoto decided to wake gokudera up that night.
“Gokudera?”
“Ngh.”
“Are you asleep?”
“Obviously not, you imbecile.” His voice was groggy, and he most likely was awakened by Yamamoto’s question, but he didn’t do anything other than move a bit, shifting the arm draped across Yamamoto’s chest up, drifting fingers in lazy patterns across his skin. Both were silent for a moment, steady breathing and chirping crickets the only sounds filling the air.
It was late, and they were both exhausted. Between college entrance exams and championship games, neither had much time to spend alone-or, for that matter, with each other. Gokudera took it upon himself to make sure Yamamoto returned with him after the game, have a make out session (to which Yamamoto was more than happy to initiate, still in his post-victory high), and shower (separately) before cuddling (though Gokudera would deny it) on the couch to watch television. After food was digested, three anime reruns, and one old samurai movie (at Yamamoto’s insistence), Gokudera forcibly dragged Yamamoto away from the screen to the bedroom, where he had read aloud (also at Yamamoto’s insistence) an exciting book on molecular science, and Yamamoto ran his fingers lazily through gray hair, enjoying the sound of Gokudera’s voice more than the subject matter itself.
Gokudera dozed off first, and Yamamoto had extracted the book from his grip, saving the page and setting it gently on the bedside table. Reclining on the bed, Yamamoto smiled, and Gokudera repositioned.
Twenty minutes later, Yamamoto woke him up.
“Oh, haha, I guess so,” he said, looking away from Gokudera to the ceiling, counting the cracks while trying to come up with a better reason for waking up Gokudera than ‘I just wanted to talk to you some more.’ So far, he didn’t have any good ideas.
Gokudera groaned, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at Yamamoto blearily. "You fucking woke me up for no reason, didn't you." He gave him A Look (or, as much of a look as he could manage when his hair was sticking up from sleep and he was wearing only a pair of briefs). Yamamoto smiled, one of those stupid, loving smiles, and leaned down to give him a kiss.
"Maybe. Would you mind?" he asked, and threaded a hand through Gokudera's hair, pressing another kiss onto his lips.
Gokudera frowned. "Yes. I was asleep. And comfortable, damnit." Mostly because on the nights Yamamoto stayed over he was always warm, and always slept better, instead of shivering under his less-than-expensive blankets, but he'd never go as far as admitting that. Sighing a bit, he flopped back down onto the bed, repositioning himself against Yamamoto's side. He was past the point of playing prickly boyfriend--at least, when he was this tired he was.
"Are you staying in Japan for university?" Yamamoto's question was out of nowhere, and Gokudera opened his eyes, moving his head to look at Yamamoto's face.
"Well that was random." He paused. "I... haven't decided yet."
Yamamoto's smile was lopsided, and it make warmth spread through Gokudera's stomach. "You'll probably get in anywhere you want, so you won't have a problem. Me, I'm just hoping for a scholarship." He looked away from Gokudera, up to the ceiling, counting the cracks again. There was a tense silence that lingered longer than either would have liked. Then:
"Do you want me to stay?" Gokudera's gaze was trained on Yamamoto's jaw, and when Yamamoto looked down at him, he could almost see portcullises opening and guards being reprieved from their constant defense. Metaphorically, of course. Gokudera wasn't actually a castle. But the idea remained, and Yamamoto bit the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to answer.
"I'm not gonna deny it," he said finally, looking away from Gokudera, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. "I mean, if you went back to Italy I might end up being jealous of an entire country..." He trailed off, and Gokudera smacked him; Yamamoto just laughed, and pulled Gokudera back down beside him on the bed. "It's up to you. But if you do go, I expect you to at least come visit for some of my baseball games!"
Gokudera rolled his eyes and didn't say anything, just moved closer and let his eyelids fall shut. He wasn't really sure what would happen to them after high school--aside from the obvious thing of following Tsuna until the day they died--and Yamamoto's worries weren't completely baseless. Italian universities were contacted, after all. Gokudera didn't like the idea of his options being limited.
But.
But even if they had been contacted, no decision had been made, nothing finalized, and it wouldn't be for a few more months. There was still time to decide.
Gokudera always assumed that the most romantic moments in a person's life happened when they were begged to stay. It generally happened at a train station, or an airport, with someone chasing the main character down, until he or she finally found the object of their affection, and managed to keep him from leaving. Yamamoto always saw the beauty in smaller gestures, never one for theatrics; very different from Gokudera.
As sleep fogged his mind, Gokudera knew a simple question wouldn't be enough to keep him from going to Italy after the school year ended. He also knew, as Yamamoto shifted, arms tightening their hold around him, that this, what he had right here, was more than the enough to keep him next to Yamamoto for longer than he'd like to admit.
end