Your Inflight Lullaby:
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: 8059 (mostly gen, though)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,622
Worksafe: Yes
Warnings: Bit of cursing, and sliiiiiiight fluff?
Author's Note: A very very very very very very late fic for Neku...! (ch1zuru) It's a birthday fic for her, based off of this picture...! I hope you enjoy this fic-I'm so sorry it took this long...! ;___; Three months late.... T__T Also, wrote the 7th and final version-yes, 7; 7 versions/revisions-listening to Gotta Be Somebody by Nickleback. Seriously? GOOD SONG. Love it!! So touching... *sniff* ♥♥ Helped inspire me to FINALLY FINISH. @_@ Also, we need more fics mentioning Yamamama. (All right! Kyokou and Jay are next!! xD!)
☽✩☾
Yamamoto peered out at the rest of the plane's passengers. Everyone was either upset (to some degree) or sleeping. It was mostly the older people sleeping, and the kids complaining about being unable to play with their DS or PSP and finish their case in Gyakuten Saiban or work on that puzzle. Some of the teenage passengers were simply aghast that they weren't allowed to use their iPhones during takeoff and landing. There were babies abound, crying, giggling, or sleeping.
Meanwhile, right next to him, stuck in the aisle seat, was Gokudera: It might bother him a little bit to say it (well, think it, as the case may be), but... he was being the biggest baby on the plane. Nothing was right: His ticket landed him in the aisle seat, the stewardess kept ignoring his requests-how many times had he asked for some kind of drink? A little five-year-old boy was running up and down the aisle with gum in his mouth. He'd stopped next to Gokudera, saying something in Italian that irked the elder, but he didn't respond. Instead, the boy looked as though he was contemplating decorating Gokudera's pants with his chewing gum. Gokudera (literally) growled at the child, saying something in Italian to which the small child was sent back to his mother, clinging to her the rest of the ride.
"Haha, it looks like you threatened to push him out of the plane."
"I did."
Gokudera was also unpleased with the fact they were stuck on a completely different plane-in coach, no less-with the rest of the Guardians while Tsuna and the kid were in their own special jet. (Hibari, of course, got an exclusive ride all to himself, Hibird, and Kusakabe.) As the Right-Hand Man, Gokudera felt the need to be at his boss' side, protecting him. Not that Reborn-San couldn't do the job just fine-he'd just try something illogical, like actually pushing Tsuna out of the plane, to see if he could fly.... But that was also besides the point. Gokudera wanted to be at Tsuna's side. Especially for a trip such as this! (Tsuna's Guardians were going to see the Ninth and his Guardians for a party and somewhat of a Passing-Down-the-Torch kind of thing. Yamamoto didn't really grasp it all in its entirety, but... that was okay, right? He'd just play along and do as he was told.)
Yet, to top it all off, what bothered Gokudera was the addition of getting to sit next to the friendly, neighborhood Baseball Nut. When Yamamoto had taken his seat and looked up to find Gokudera glaring daggers down at him, all he could do was grin.
"You mean I get to sit next to you?"
"Haha! Well, what does your ticket say?"
"'Not next to an idiot,' that's what."
Yamamoto laughed again. "No, really."
Gokudera had glanced several times between his ticket and the seat marker above them. The glances became quicker, as if the numbers and letters would change if he moved his head and eyes fast enough, yet....
"Fuck you."
And now, two taste-bud-ruining meals and several-plus hours later, the sky had darkened. Yamamoto and Gokudera had been too busy to notice, working on schoolwork, playing simple games like tic-tac-toe, or Italian hangman to keep what Yamamoto managed to learn up to par. Despite all the things distracting him, Gokudera was still in a foul mood. The kids were grating on his nerves (Lambo had taken this opportunity to rally them together as some kind of horrific brute squad), teenagers were whining (one girl was sobbing particularly loudly), and just one baby was still crying. Yes: Still.
Gokudera sighed loudly, but only just enough to grab Yamamoto's attention. "Dammit, I'm tired. Why do planes always make people tired? It's not like you actually do any kind of physical labor...." A moment passed in which Gokudera fiddled with several of his rings, then finally stood and searched in the overhead compartment.
A curse echoed in the overhead space, and Yamamoto had to ask, "Are you okay?"
"I'm just peachy," he answered. A second later, a muttered, "Moron..." reached Yamamoto's ears. The 'moron' grinned to himself.
"What are you looking for?"
"It's not obvious?"
"Haha, I'm not Superman; I don't have X-Ray vision. I can't see what you're trying to get."
Gokudera stopped his movements and sighed. "I'm trying to get the pillow and blanket so I can try to get some sleep before we land." He resumed his efforts, jumping this time.
Yamamoto watched the chains on Gokudera's belt bounce up and down with the momentum of his movements. "Will you grab mine, too?" he asked. Gokudera grunted in response, though Yamamoto was unsure of whether that meant, "Sure," or, "Go to Hell," but... it was worth a shot. The chains made a bit of a racket but Gokudera stopped his jumping, and cursed again.
"What?"
"I pushed them back even further...."
Yamamoto laughed loudly, catching several passenger's attentions. He stood up next to Gokudera and peered into the compartment, spotting the folded blankets with the pillows on top of them. "Haha, Gokudera-they're right there. You can't reach them?"
He glanced down to the clearly shorter of the two, smiling in an openly teasing way. Gokudera snarled. "I'll cut off your legs, and then we'll see who can't reach."
Chuckling now, Yamamoto stood on his toes and reached forward, easily grabbing the soft materials. He offered Gokudera his share, still grinning, and as he moved to take his seat he accidentally brushed against Gokudera who just glared back at him, obviously disgruntled with the fact that Yamamoto had once again one-upped him.
Yamamoto settled into his seat once more. He wasn't particularly tired, so he set his pillow and blanket at his feet for later, just in case. Gokudera... despite now having the pillow and blanket he'd previously desired... dropped his to the floor unceremoniously and sat, pouting. Yamamoto didn't say anything; just let him calm down over the course of several minutes near the end of which Yamamoto had heard several mutters of, "Can't believe I agreed to this." The eleventh time he heard it, Yamamoto inquired just what it was he was so adamantly and suddenly despising.
"Italy."
He supposed it made sense; he just had assumed it was that he'd subjected himself to the torture of the plane's passengers. But from what he did know of Gokudera's life pre-Tsuna... it made sense. Gokudera mellowed out, staring at the plane's ceiling with a blank look in his eyes. Yamamoto kept his own stare on Gokudera's eyes; he'd seen many emotions cross Gokudera's face before, and something about this look tugged at Yamamoto's gut. Something was missing from Gokudera's life, and it pained Yamamoto knowing that the only one who could ease that away was gone forever, except for in Gokudera's memory. Even then, the memories were grainy; frames were missing, and the script was all wrong.
"What are you staring at, Baseball Nut?" Gokudera asked. The question wasn't harsh. It was just flat.
Yamamoto blinked, caught. "Ah, nothing-! ... Sorry...."
At that Gokudera smirked, and went looking at the passengers as Yamamoto had hours previous. The kids and Lambo were finally sleeping, and the teenage girl had calmed down considerably. The crying baby was being held by a plump, olive-skinned Italian woman. Her hair was kept back by a babushka, and she'd taken to rocking the baby gently.
The noise in the plane died out, and a whispering voice rose up, singing a gentle curve of notes. A lullaby. Yamamoto turned back to his window, a frown in place. He slumped a little bit, trying hard to pick out certain words (he recognized 'moon', and 'stars', and 'sun') but he was busy trying to remember his own mother. He couldn't really remember her singing him anything. He remembered her somewhat, but the all of the details were fading: Was she tall? What color were her eyes? Did she tell him bedtime stories more than sing him songs-was she even good at singing? Did she love him just as much as his dad did? What things did she personally teach him? What had she admonished him for? Was she still there when he started playing baseball? Would she be proud of him? Support his dream? And what about Gokudera and his mother? What kind of sorrow and heartbreak did his mother feel, and what kind of regret was eating Gokudera's heart? How did their curiosity about their mothers even out?
Accompanying his sigh, Yamamoto felt something slump on his side. A glance of silver told him all he needed to know. Gokudera looked as though he'd been right in the middle of pulling his blanket up from the floor but had fallen asleep mid-pull. He was now almost snuggled against Yamamoto's side. Well, if his arm would suffice as Gokudera's fallen pillow he had no qualms about it. He moved his arm a little, but Gokudera didn't move. He'd fallen asleep to the lullaby. Yamamoto carefully reached over to grab the blanket and carefully fixed it, laying it over Gokudera. He dreaded landing, especially if Gokudera was still asleep. It was probably the one and only time he'd ever fallen asleep to a lullaby, and Yamamoto didn't really want to be the one to ruin that. At least they still had several hours of flight-time.
That in mind, Yamamoto carefully adjusted his position without disturbing Gokudera while sneaking a gentle kiss to the top of his head. Something like a grunt exited Gokudera's throat that sounded suspiciously close to 'idiot', but Yamamoto grinned, and let himself fall asleep to the last few melodies of the lullaby.
Pairing: 8059 (mostly gen, though)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,622
Worksafe: Yes
Warnings: Bit of cursing, and sliiiiiiight fluff?
Author's Note: A very very very very very very late fic for Neku...! (ch1zuru) It's a birthday fic for her, based off of this picture...! I hope you enjoy this fic-I'm so sorry it took this long...! ;___; Three months late.... T__T Also, wrote the 7th and final version-yes, 7; 7 versions/revisions-listening to Gotta Be Somebody by Nickleback. Seriously? GOOD SONG. Love it!! So touching... *sniff* ♥♥ Helped inspire me to FINALLY FINISH. @_@ Also, we need more fics mentioning Yamamama. (All right! Kyokou and Jay are next!! xD!)
☽✩☾
Yamamoto peered out at the rest of the plane's passengers. Everyone was either upset (to some degree) or sleeping. It was mostly the older people sleeping, and the kids complaining about being unable to play with their DS or PSP and finish their case in Gyakuten Saiban or work on that puzzle. Some of the teenage passengers were simply aghast that they weren't allowed to use their iPhones during takeoff and landing. There were babies abound, crying, giggling, or sleeping.
Meanwhile, right next to him, stuck in the aisle seat, was Gokudera: It might bother him a little bit to say it (well, think it, as the case may be), but... he was being the biggest baby on the plane. Nothing was right: His ticket landed him in the aisle seat, the stewardess kept ignoring his requests-how many times had he asked for some kind of drink? A little five-year-old boy was running up and down the aisle with gum in his mouth. He'd stopped next to Gokudera, saying something in Italian that irked the elder, but he didn't respond. Instead, the boy looked as though he was contemplating decorating Gokudera's pants with his chewing gum. Gokudera (literally) growled at the child, saying something in Italian to which the small child was sent back to his mother, clinging to her the rest of the ride.
"Haha, it looks like you threatened to push him out of the plane."
"I did."
Gokudera was also unpleased with the fact they were stuck on a completely different plane-in coach, no less-with the rest of the Guardians while Tsuna and the kid were in their own special jet. (Hibari, of course, got an exclusive ride all to himself, Hibird, and Kusakabe.) As the Right-Hand Man, Gokudera felt the need to be at his boss' side, protecting him. Not that Reborn-San couldn't do the job just fine-he'd just try something illogical, like actually pushing Tsuna out of the plane, to see if he could fly.... But that was also besides the point. Gokudera wanted to be at Tsuna's side. Especially for a trip such as this! (Tsuna's Guardians were going to see the Ninth and his Guardians for a party and somewhat of a Passing-Down-the-Torch kind of thing. Yamamoto didn't really grasp it all in its entirety, but... that was okay, right? He'd just play along and do as he was told.)
Yet, to top it all off, what bothered Gokudera was the addition of getting to sit next to the friendly, neighborhood Baseball Nut. When Yamamoto had taken his seat and looked up to find Gokudera glaring daggers down at him, all he could do was grin.
"You mean I get to sit next to you?"
"Haha! Well, what does your ticket say?"
"'Not next to an idiot,' that's what."
Yamamoto laughed again. "No, really."
Gokudera had glanced several times between his ticket and the seat marker above them. The glances became quicker, as if the numbers and letters would change if he moved his head and eyes fast enough, yet....
"Fuck you."
And now, two taste-bud-ruining meals and several-plus hours later, the sky had darkened. Yamamoto and Gokudera had been too busy to notice, working on schoolwork, playing simple games like tic-tac-toe, or Italian hangman to keep what Yamamoto managed to learn up to par. Despite all the things distracting him, Gokudera was still in a foul mood. The kids were grating on his nerves (Lambo had taken this opportunity to rally them together as some kind of horrific brute squad), teenagers were whining (one girl was sobbing particularly loudly), and just one baby was still crying. Yes: Still.
Gokudera sighed loudly, but only just enough to grab Yamamoto's attention. "Dammit, I'm tired. Why do planes always make people tired? It's not like you actually do any kind of physical labor...." A moment passed in which Gokudera fiddled with several of his rings, then finally stood and searched in the overhead compartment.
A curse echoed in the overhead space, and Yamamoto had to ask, "Are you okay?"
"I'm just peachy," he answered. A second later, a muttered, "Moron..." reached Yamamoto's ears. The 'moron' grinned to himself.
"What are you looking for?"
"It's not obvious?"
"Haha, I'm not Superman; I don't have X-Ray vision. I can't see what you're trying to get."
Gokudera stopped his movements and sighed. "I'm trying to get the pillow and blanket so I can try to get some sleep before we land." He resumed his efforts, jumping this time.
Yamamoto watched the chains on Gokudera's belt bounce up and down with the momentum of his movements. "Will you grab mine, too?" he asked. Gokudera grunted in response, though Yamamoto was unsure of whether that meant, "Sure," or, "Go to Hell," but... it was worth a shot. The chains made a bit of a racket but Gokudera stopped his jumping, and cursed again.
"What?"
"I pushed them back even further...."
Yamamoto laughed loudly, catching several passenger's attentions. He stood up next to Gokudera and peered into the compartment, spotting the folded blankets with the pillows on top of them. "Haha, Gokudera-they're right there. You can't reach them?"
He glanced down to the clearly shorter of the two, smiling in an openly teasing way. Gokudera snarled. "I'll cut off your legs, and then we'll see who can't reach."
Chuckling now, Yamamoto stood on his toes and reached forward, easily grabbing the soft materials. He offered Gokudera his share, still grinning, and as he moved to take his seat he accidentally brushed against Gokudera who just glared back at him, obviously disgruntled with the fact that Yamamoto had once again one-upped him.
Yamamoto settled into his seat once more. He wasn't particularly tired, so he set his pillow and blanket at his feet for later, just in case. Gokudera... despite now having the pillow and blanket he'd previously desired... dropped his to the floor unceremoniously and sat, pouting. Yamamoto didn't say anything; just let him calm down over the course of several minutes near the end of which Yamamoto had heard several mutters of, "Can't believe I agreed to this." The eleventh time he heard it, Yamamoto inquired just what it was he was so adamantly and suddenly despising.
"Italy."
He supposed it made sense; he just had assumed it was that he'd subjected himself to the torture of the plane's passengers. But from what he did know of Gokudera's life pre-Tsuna... it made sense. Gokudera mellowed out, staring at the plane's ceiling with a blank look in his eyes. Yamamoto kept his own stare on Gokudera's eyes; he'd seen many emotions cross Gokudera's face before, and something about this look tugged at Yamamoto's gut. Something was missing from Gokudera's life, and it pained Yamamoto knowing that the only one who could ease that away was gone forever, except for in Gokudera's memory. Even then, the memories were grainy; frames were missing, and the script was all wrong.
"What are you staring at, Baseball Nut?" Gokudera asked. The question wasn't harsh. It was just flat.
Yamamoto blinked, caught. "Ah, nothing-! ... Sorry...."
At that Gokudera smirked, and went looking at the passengers as Yamamoto had hours previous. The kids and Lambo were finally sleeping, and the teenage girl had calmed down considerably. The crying baby was being held by a plump, olive-skinned Italian woman. Her hair was kept back by a babushka, and she'd taken to rocking the baby gently.
The noise in the plane died out, and a whispering voice rose up, singing a gentle curve of notes. A lullaby. Yamamoto turned back to his window, a frown in place. He slumped a little bit, trying hard to pick out certain words (he recognized 'moon', and 'stars', and 'sun') but he was busy trying to remember his own mother. He couldn't really remember her singing him anything. He remembered her somewhat, but the all of the details were fading: Was she tall? What color were her eyes? Did she tell him bedtime stories more than sing him songs-was she even good at singing? Did she love him just as much as his dad did? What things did she personally teach him? What had she admonished him for? Was she still there when he started playing baseball? Would she be proud of him? Support his dream? And what about Gokudera and his mother? What kind of sorrow and heartbreak did his mother feel, and what kind of regret was eating Gokudera's heart? How did their curiosity about their mothers even out?
Accompanying his sigh, Yamamoto felt something slump on his side. A glance of silver told him all he needed to know. Gokudera looked as though he'd been right in the middle of pulling his blanket up from the floor but had fallen asleep mid-pull. He was now almost snuggled against Yamamoto's side. Well, if his arm would suffice as Gokudera's fallen pillow he had no qualms about it. He moved his arm a little, but Gokudera didn't move. He'd fallen asleep to the lullaby. Yamamoto carefully reached over to grab the blanket and carefully fixed it, laying it over Gokudera. He dreaded landing, especially if Gokudera was still asleep. It was probably the one and only time he'd ever fallen asleep to a lullaby, and Yamamoto didn't really want to be the one to ruin that. At least they still had several hours of flight-time.
That in mind, Yamamoto carefully adjusted his position without disturbing Gokudera while sneaking a gentle kiss to the top of his head. Something like a grunt exited Gokudera's throat that sounded suspiciously close to 'idiot', but Yamamoto grinned, and let himself fall asleep to the last few melodies of the lullaby.