(no subject)
Title: Revision
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Yamamoto/Haru
Rating: NSFW
Word Count: 2300
Notes: For the kink meme, prompt "When did you fill out in all the right places?" Some ideas within inspired by South Park whatthefuckiswrongwithme Unbeta'd. Also, I've become such a wimp about writing smut. =/
When Haru was sixteen, the girls had a list.
Haru didn't know the other girls at first, but they were Kyoko's good friends, and Haru was one of her good friends too. They'd meet up at a coffee shop after school and whisper conspiratorially. They'd giggle behind hands and sip frothy drinks. The boys around them would look nervous.
It was a single, large list comprised of many smaller lists. Sheet after sheet of paper taped together until it could be folded in on itself again and again and kept in Hana's bookbag where it was safe. Hana kept everything safe.
It worked like this: "The most athletic," one girl would say and the rest would start to debate. The top five boys, or the top ten if five was too restrictive. It was very democratic and organized. Haru, of course, wanted Tsuna to be at the top of every list, though she was willing to compromise and relent on occasion. (Gokudera Hayato did, in fact, look the best in a pair of jeans, even if he was a despicable human being.)
After high school, the group disbanded for college or marriage. Haru often wondered what became of the list and whenever she met a new boy, she found herself unable to refrain from ranking him.
***
After the wedding, Haru found herself in the dining room of Takesushi, helping Yamamoto return the catering equipment. Her arms were stacked high with platters and bowls. Yamamoto carried containers full of leftovers.
"Not much left," he said, laughing in that soft, deep way of his, "not with Ryohei around, huh? Good thing my dad's not home to see so much uneaten sushi!"
For the first time Haru could remember, she didn't really have anything to say. She'd been in love with Tsuna since she was fourteen years old. She'd watched him grow through his extended awkward, dweeby stage (which was so cute) and into the soft-spoken, reserved man he would become. She'd watched him acclimate himself into the position of Tenth Boss of the Vongola Family, standing as his unwavering supporter. She even supported him when he asked Kyoko out on a date, when he asked her to marry him, and when he asked Haru to help with planning. She was happy to.
But it didn't mean she wasn't a little sad right now.
Inside Takesushi, she lay the platters on the counter and helped unload Yamamoto's arms of food. Even now, his white dress shirt rolled up to just below his elbows, the tie hanging loose around his neck, she understood why Yamamoto had been at the top of so many of those silly lists back when she was a teenager. She watched him mill around the kitchen, putting things away, rinsing off the dirty dishes. He was sad too; she could tell. He moved like she did.
"I hope they have a nice honeymoon," she said, looking at her hands resting on the counter.
"Yeah," Yamamoto said, his voice muffled by the refrigerator.
"They make each other very happy."
"They do!" The extra push in his voice was so obvious. Haru had to laugh a little.
She watched him for a moment, his face visibly exhausted from the long day and the revelry. He'd stood beside Tsuna, along with Gokudera and Ryohei as Tsuna and Kyoko were married. Haru had stood on the opposite side next to Kyoko and Hana and I-pin. But the entire time she felt like maybe she should have still been at Tsuna's side, even then.
Finally, "It's okay,"she said, "it's okay to be sad."
Yamamoto paused as he slid a container full of temaki into the refrigerator. "Haha," he laughed quietly, "am I that obvious?"
Haru couldn't stop the small smile on her lips. If nothing else, she was observant. Being receptive to the subtlest of hints, analytical of barely-there gestures and stolen glances, she had become the chief matchmaker among her friends. She was good at it. And Yamamoto never wore his heart anywhere but in his outstretched palm.
"Maybe a little," she said, and passed him another container for the fridge, "sorry."
Yamamoto shrugged. "Not much to be done about it, I guess. Some things just aren't going to happen even if you want them to, and you just have to keep moving, right?" And he smiled.
"I knew it! You were in love with Kyoko!"
Yamamoto smiled sadly and raised his eyebrows. And suddenly Haru remembered the way he'd followed another friend home every day, easy arms slung over shoulders, the vicious scowl that said, "Get away" to Yamamoto, but would turn into a smile like the sun when Tsuna showed up. And it didn't take long for her to remember how stupidly drunk Gokudera had gotten during the reception, watching Tsuna dancing with Kyoko. There was nothing sadder, she supposed, than watching the one you loved, be in love with someone else.
"Ah," she said, "of course not." Yamamoto simply smiled in response.
If Haru remembered correctly, Yamamoto had always ranked in the Top Five for his smile, usually hovering around a rank of three. A couple of upperclassmen battled for the top two spots, swapping back and forth as they flirted with Haru's group of friends. But Yamamoto was always there too. The flush on her cheeks told the story well enough.
But what had always stood out to her was his eyes.
***
Countdown of the Top 5 Best Eyes
5. Tanaka Daichi
4. Sawada Tsunayoshi
3. Nakamura Yuudai
2. Hibari Kyouya
1.--
"No, no, no," Haru said, "Tsuna is definitely number one!"
Hana rolled her eyes. "That loser can't be number one for everything, Haru."
"In fact," Natsuki said, "he shouldn't even be on the list at all."
"But!" Haru turned to Kyoko for solidarity, but even Kyoko shrugged and nodded gently. Heartbroken and betrayed, Haru sighed and put her hands in her lap. "Fine," she said, "so who's number one?"
The other girls smiled. And when they said in unison, "Yamamoto Takeshi," Haru found that she really couldn't argue.
***
"And you know what else sucks about this whole wedding thing," Haru said, gesturing so fiercely at Yamamoto with her small bowl of sake that a little splashed and trickled down her hand. Yamamoto laughed, and a moment later Haru did too. "Oooh, that's wet!"
He laughed again and this time it rocked through Yamamoto's whole body and he leaned against the table. He rolled his forehead back and forth against the surface. Then he sat back up and raised his glass. "Wait. Wait. I'm listening. What sucks?"
Haru stared at him and tilted her head to the side. "I don't remember," she said. She heaved a mighty sigh. "Waahhh, Haru's drunk."
Suddenly a broad palm was pressed to her forehead and brushing away her bangs. "Your face is all pink and warm!"
Haru only served to make it even pinker with her blush. Funny, she thought, how she and Yamamoto had never really hung out before. She spent time with all of Tsuna's other friends, even being stuck babysitting the kids with Gokudera once (which had been of the most frightening and dangerous experiences of her life). But she had only ever crossed paths with Yamamoto when they all hung out as a group.
"I'll tell you what sucks," Yamamoto said with a faint, awkward wink. This wasn't the way he would talk normally, she knew it, but he was tired and a little drunk and a lot heartbroken. "You know, back in the future, when we were older? I thought I finally got through, right? That he'd stop pushing everyone away."
Haru watched him take another sip.
"Guess I was pretty dumb, huh?"
She frowned at him and rubbed her palm over the back of his hand in gesture of something approximating comfort. "He's dumb," she said.
Yamamoto snorted. He set his bowl down on the table. "This is so much better than when we were kids, isn't it," he asked, "we never got to hang out then."
And Haru barely needed to be convinced when Yamamoto rested a warm hand on her wrist and said, "Stay?"
***
When it came time to list the Top 5...Endowments, the girls stared at each other a little nervously. This was theoretical, of course. Speculation. But Hana, being the most mature and experienced in everything always, smiled slyly.
"Sasagawa Ryohei," she said confidently.
Kyoko looked momentarily scandalized, her wide eyes even wider. Hana looked appropriately outed. Then Kyoko dissolved into giggles and all was well.
"I won't sleep for a week," Kyoko said sweetly, her cheeks pink, but she added her brother's name to the top of the list.
And the rest of the list was mostly a toss-up. They'd heard rumors about Katsura from the year ahead of them, and Murata from the next school over, rumors were more than the rest of them had to go on.
Finally, Natsuki and Fumiko spoke up. "Definitely not Yamamoto," they said in unison.
They told a story of sneaking to the locker room windows after baseball practice and sneaking a peak into the windows. They told a story of anticipation and mischief. But, ultimately, they told a story of great disappointment.
"N-no way!" Haru was shocked.
"But he's so tall," Kyoko added, blushing slightly, "are you sure?"
The girls nodded firmly. "Definitely not Yamamoto," they repeated and his name was banished to the bottom of the list.
***
Haru's shirt was in the living room. One white, high-heeled shoe was behind the couch; the other in the hall. Yamamoto was down to only his black dress pants and his socks.
They stumbled up the stairs, a little drunk and rebellious but it was a little hard to remember why when there was no one else in the room but themselves. Yamamoto kissed her constantly, his hand on the small of her back. She walked backwards up the steps until he pressed her against the railing and nuzzled his face into her neck.
"Hahi?!" Haru was shocked, Yamamoto's body leaning against the entire length of hers. She felt his hardness pressed against her hip. "When did you fill out in all the right places?!"
Yamamoto looked at her, confused. "Ah? You too?" he muttered, and went back to kissing her neck.
It was true, she supposed, even as his hands worked up her back to unclasp her bra, she could feel all of the hard planes of his body pressing against her breasts. She was no longer the scrawny, flat-chested girl from before. She'd done this, she knew how to do this, and her hands drifted down Yamamoto's chest to unbuckle his belt.
Two soft clinks and the belt came free and dropped with a loud thud onto the steps below. The black pants slid down Yamamoto's hips, revealing waist and muscle, a fine trail of hair down his belly, and he slipped a hand under Haru's bottom and hoisted her hips against his.
"This okay," he asked, suddenly a little shyness showing on his face, all mixed up with boldness and want. Haru could only nod and shift her hips.
This isn't what she pictured at all, when she was a girl. She hadn't pictured anyone but Tsuna--certainly not one of his best friends, certainly not on Tsuna's wedding night--hadn't pictured this casual, easy thing, rubbing against someone else in a darkened stairway, her partner's childhood bedroom meters away, a ridiculously narrow bed awaiting them. She hadn't pictured any of this, but she didn't care.
As Yamamoto pushed her skirt out of the way, years disappeared around her. She remembered back to silly teenage days and secret lists and friends sitting together over coffee.
Yamamoto kissed her again.
(Nicest Lips: Yamamoto, original rank 7, revised rank 2.)
"You really did get to be so beautiful," he breathed against her clavicle.
(Sexiest Voice: a definite jump in rank of four or five places, at least.)
He dragged his tongue between her breasts, and then over the soft swell. Haru groaned and rolled her hips.
(Most Promising Oral Abilities: he hadn't even been on the list at all before.)
He sucked a nipple gently into his mouth, slid a hand down to cup her bottom, and all ranks and numbers and rational thought fled her mind. She rocked against him, felt his hardness and his heat, listened to his hastened breath, the soft hiss of fabric on fabric. She heard him whisper her name over and over. She felt his breath on her skin, the insistence of his hands on the curve of her hips. She felt the rough glide of his fingers as they skirted past the hem of her panties and slid into her wetness. He flicked against her, all rough callouses and broad fingertips and his tongue tracing the hot shell of her ear.
Haru slid her hand into the space between their hips and unzipped Yamamoto's pants. They sagged down around his knees. He groaned against the cool air and the sudden presence of her warm hands. (Natsuki and Fumiko had been so wrong.) She stroked him, rolled against his fingers, gasped into his hair, and when she came it was his name she breathed against his skin.
He followed, the mess spilling over her fingers and onto his pants, onto the stairs. He leaned against her, his weight supporting her against the wall, her weight supporting him.
"Geez," he muttered against her neck.
Haru nodded faintly, her breath still coming in deep waves. "Def-definitely at least a two," she said.
"Huh?"
"Never mind." And she kissed the top of his sweaty head.
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Pairing: Yamamoto/Haru
Rating: NSFW
Word Count: 2300
Notes: For the kink meme, prompt "When did you fill out in all the right places?" Some ideas within inspired by South Park whatthefuckiswrongwithme Unbeta'd. Also, I've become such a wimp about writing smut. =/
When Haru was sixteen, the girls had a list.
Haru didn't know the other girls at first, but they were Kyoko's good friends, and Haru was one of her good friends too. They'd meet up at a coffee shop after school and whisper conspiratorially. They'd giggle behind hands and sip frothy drinks. The boys around them would look nervous.
It was a single, large list comprised of many smaller lists. Sheet after sheet of paper taped together until it could be folded in on itself again and again and kept in Hana's bookbag where it was safe. Hana kept everything safe.
It worked like this: "The most athletic," one girl would say and the rest would start to debate. The top five boys, or the top ten if five was too restrictive. It was very democratic and organized. Haru, of course, wanted Tsuna to be at the top of every list, though she was willing to compromise and relent on occasion. (Gokudera Hayato did, in fact, look the best in a pair of jeans, even if he was a despicable human being.)
After high school, the group disbanded for college or marriage. Haru often wondered what became of the list and whenever she met a new boy, she found herself unable to refrain from ranking him.
***
After the wedding, Haru found herself in the dining room of Takesushi, helping Yamamoto return the catering equipment. Her arms were stacked high with platters and bowls. Yamamoto carried containers full of leftovers.
"Not much left," he said, laughing in that soft, deep way of his, "not with Ryohei around, huh? Good thing my dad's not home to see so much uneaten sushi!"
For the first time Haru could remember, she didn't really have anything to say. She'd been in love with Tsuna since she was fourteen years old. She'd watched him grow through his extended awkward, dweeby stage (which was so cute) and into the soft-spoken, reserved man he would become. She'd watched him acclimate himself into the position of Tenth Boss of the Vongola Family, standing as his unwavering supporter. She even supported him when he asked Kyoko out on a date, when he asked her to marry him, and when he asked Haru to help with planning. She was happy to.
But it didn't mean she wasn't a little sad right now.
Inside Takesushi, she lay the platters on the counter and helped unload Yamamoto's arms of food. Even now, his white dress shirt rolled up to just below his elbows, the tie hanging loose around his neck, she understood why Yamamoto had been at the top of so many of those silly lists back when she was a teenager. She watched him mill around the kitchen, putting things away, rinsing off the dirty dishes. He was sad too; she could tell. He moved like she did.
"I hope they have a nice honeymoon," she said, looking at her hands resting on the counter.
"Yeah," Yamamoto said, his voice muffled by the refrigerator.
"They make each other very happy."
"They do!" The extra push in his voice was so obvious. Haru had to laugh a little.
She watched him for a moment, his face visibly exhausted from the long day and the revelry. He'd stood beside Tsuna, along with Gokudera and Ryohei as Tsuna and Kyoko were married. Haru had stood on the opposite side next to Kyoko and Hana and I-pin. But the entire time she felt like maybe she should have still been at Tsuna's side, even then.
Finally, "It's okay,"she said, "it's okay to be sad."
Yamamoto paused as he slid a container full of temaki into the refrigerator. "Haha," he laughed quietly, "am I that obvious?"
Haru couldn't stop the small smile on her lips. If nothing else, she was observant. Being receptive to the subtlest of hints, analytical of barely-there gestures and stolen glances, she had become the chief matchmaker among her friends. She was good at it. And Yamamoto never wore his heart anywhere but in his outstretched palm.
"Maybe a little," she said, and passed him another container for the fridge, "sorry."
Yamamoto shrugged. "Not much to be done about it, I guess. Some things just aren't going to happen even if you want them to, and you just have to keep moving, right?" And he smiled.
"I knew it! You were in love with Kyoko!"
Yamamoto smiled sadly and raised his eyebrows. And suddenly Haru remembered the way he'd followed another friend home every day, easy arms slung over shoulders, the vicious scowl that said, "Get away" to Yamamoto, but would turn into a smile like the sun when Tsuna showed up. And it didn't take long for her to remember how stupidly drunk Gokudera had gotten during the reception, watching Tsuna dancing with Kyoko. There was nothing sadder, she supposed, than watching the one you loved, be in love with someone else.
"Ah," she said, "of course not." Yamamoto simply smiled in response.
If Haru remembered correctly, Yamamoto had always ranked in the Top Five for his smile, usually hovering around a rank of three. A couple of upperclassmen battled for the top two spots, swapping back and forth as they flirted with Haru's group of friends. But Yamamoto was always there too. The flush on her cheeks told the story well enough.
But what had always stood out to her was his eyes.
***
Countdown of the Top 5 Best Eyes
5. Tanaka Daichi
4. Sawada Tsunayoshi
3. Nakamura Yuudai
2. Hibari Kyouya
1.--
"No, no, no," Haru said, "Tsuna is definitely number one!"
Hana rolled her eyes. "That loser can't be number one for everything, Haru."
"In fact," Natsuki said, "he shouldn't even be on the list at all."
"But!" Haru turned to Kyoko for solidarity, but even Kyoko shrugged and nodded gently. Heartbroken and betrayed, Haru sighed and put her hands in her lap. "Fine," she said, "so who's number one?"
The other girls smiled. And when they said in unison, "Yamamoto Takeshi," Haru found that she really couldn't argue.
***
"And you know what else sucks about this whole wedding thing," Haru said, gesturing so fiercely at Yamamoto with her small bowl of sake that a little splashed and trickled down her hand. Yamamoto laughed, and a moment later Haru did too. "Oooh, that's wet!"
He laughed again and this time it rocked through Yamamoto's whole body and he leaned against the table. He rolled his forehead back and forth against the surface. Then he sat back up and raised his glass. "Wait. Wait. I'm listening. What sucks?"
Haru stared at him and tilted her head to the side. "I don't remember," she said. She heaved a mighty sigh. "Waahhh, Haru's drunk."
Suddenly a broad palm was pressed to her forehead and brushing away her bangs. "Your face is all pink and warm!"
Haru only served to make it even pinker with her blush. Funny, she thought, how she and Yamamoto had never really hung out before. She spent time with all of Tsuna's other friends, even being stuck babysitting the kids with Gokudera once (which had been of the most frightening and dangerous experiences of her life). But she had only ever crossed paths with Yamamoto when they all hung out as a group.
"I'll tell you what sucks," Yamamoto said with a faint, awkward wink. This wasn't the way he would talk normally, she knew it, but he was tired and a little drunk and a lot heartbroken. "You know, back in the future, when we were older? I thought I finally got through, right? That he'd stop pushing everyone away."
Haru watched him take another sip.
"Guess I was pretty dumb, huh?"
She frowned at him and rubbed her palm over the back of his hand in gesture of something approximating comfort. "He's dumb," she said.
Yamamoto snorted. He set his bowl down on the table. "This is so much better than when we were kids, isn't it," he asked, "we never got to hang out then."
And Haru barely needed to be convinced when Yamamoto rested a warm hand on her wrist and said, "Stay?"
***
When it came time to list the Top 5...Endowments, the girls stared at each other a little nervously. This was theoretical, of course. Speculation. But Hana, being the most mature and experienced in everything always, smiled slyly.
"Sasagawa Ryohei," she said confidently.
Kyoko looked momentarily scandalized, her wide eyes even wider. Hana looked appropriately outed. Then Kyoko dissolved into giggles and all was well.
"I won't sleep for a week," Kyoko said sweetly, her cheeks pink, but she added her brother's name to the top of the list.
And the rest of the list was mostly a toss-up. They'd heard rumors about Katsura from the year ahead of them, and Murata from the next school over, rumors were more than the rest of them had to go on.
Finally, Natsuki and Fumiko spoke up. "Definitely not Yamamoto," they said in unison.
They told a story of sneaking to the locker room windows after baseball practice and sneaking a peak into the windows. They told a story of anticipation and mischief. But, ultimately, they told a story of great disappointment.
"N-no way!" Haru was shocked.
"But he's so tall," Kyoko added, blushing slightly, "are you sure?"
The girls nodded firmly. "Definitely not Yamamoto," they repeated and his name was banished to the bottom of the list.
***
Haru's shirt was in the living room. One white, high-heeled shoe was behind the couch; the other in the hall. Yamamoto was down to only his black dress pants and his socks.
They stumbled up the stairs, a little drunk and rebellious but it was a little hard to remember why when there was no one else in the room but themselves. Yamamoto kissed her constantly, his hand on the small of her back. She walked backwards up the steps until he pressed her against the railing and nuzzled his face into her neck.
"Hahi?!" Haru was shocked, Yamamoto's body leaning against the entire length of hers. She felt his hardness pressed against her hip. "When did you fill out in all the right places?!"
Yamamoto looked at her, confused. "Ah? You too?" he muttered, and went back to kissing her neck.
It was true, she supposed, even as his hands worked up her back to unclasp her bra, she could feel all of the hard planes of his body pressing against her breasts. She was no longer the scrawny, flat-chested girl from before. She'd done this, she knew how to do this, and her hands drifted down Yamamoto's chest to unbuckle his belt.
Two soft clinks and the belt came free and dropped with a loud thud onto the steps below. The black pants slid down Yamamoto's hips, revealing waist and muscle, a fine trail of hair down his belly, and he slipped a hand under Haru's bottom and hoisted her hips against his.
"This okay," he asked, suddenly a little shyness showing on his face, all mixed up with boldness and want. Haru could only nod and shift her hips.
This isn't what she pictured at all, when she was a girl. She hadn't pictured anyone but Tsuna--certainly not one of his best friends, certainly not on Tsuna's wedding night--hadn't pictured this casual, easy thing, rubbing against someone else in a darkened stairway, her partner's childhood bedroom meters away, a ridiculously narrow bed awaiting them. She hadn't pictured any of this, but she didn't care.
As Yamamoto pushed her skirt out of the way, years disappeared around her. She remembered back to silly teenage days and secret lists and friends sitting together over coffee.
Yamamoto kissed her again.
(Nicest Lips: Yamamoto, original rank 7, revised rank 2.)
"You really did get to be so beautiful," he breathed against her clavicle.
(Sexiest Voice: a definite jump in rank of four or five places, at least.)
He dragged his tongue between her breasts, and then over the soft swell. Haru groaned and rolled her hips.
(Most Promising Oral Abilities: he hadn't even been on the list at all before.)
He sucked a nipple gently into his mouth, slid a hand down to cup her bottom, and all ranks and numbers and rational thought fled her mind. She rocked against him, felt his hardness and his heat, listened to his hastened breath, the soft hiss of fabric on fabric. She heard him whisper her name over and over. She felt his breath on her skin, the insistence of his hands on the curve of her hips. She felt the rough glide of his fingers as they skirted past the hem of her panties and slid into her wetness. He flicked against her, all rough callouses and broad fingertips and his tongue tracing the hot shell of her ear.
Haru slid her hand into the space between their hips and unzipped Yamamoto's pants. They sagged down around his knees. He groaned against the cool air and the sudden presence of her warm hands. (Natsuki and Fumiko had been so wrong.) She stroked him, rolled against his fingers, gasped into his hair, and when she came it was his name she breathed against his skin.
He followed, the mess spilling over her fingers and onto his pants, onto the stairs. He leaned against her, his weight supporting her against the wall, her weight supporting him.
"Geez," he muttered against her neck.
Haru nodded faintly, her breath still coming in deep waves. "Def-definitely at least a two," she said.
"Huh?"
"Never mind." And she kissed the top of his sweaty head.