Adagio [December 2nd] [5927] [Reborn!]
Title :: Adagio
Prompt :: December 2nd, “make him tame so he can live in peace with the world” [31_days]
Pairing :: 5927
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 300
Summary :: It’s the little things that are most worth fighting for, after all.
After all this time, he still doesn’t care - if you asked Sawada Tsunayoshi to write down a list of his priorities, the mafia probably wouldn’t even make the top ten (especially when you consider that just writing the word is liable to send him spiraling into yet another panic attack). He doesn’t care about Vongola heirs or hyper-intuition or dying wills; and mostly, he just wishes that he could coax his own name from between his best friend’s lips and not fall down afterwards.
(Tsuna, look! he imagines that he might say. I’ve been practising, and I thought maybe - I could set off some fireworks with you? And his fingers would be burnt and smell like ash but thread so neatly through Tsuna’s own, and the name would be whispered into his hair with every spark, always somehow heard.)
It’s the little things that are most worth fighting for, after all.
Like the curve of Gokudera-kun’s smile - not the disturbingly maniacal grin, not the Everything’s okay; just leave it to me! façade he thinks a right-hand man should wear; but the way his lips curl upwards when he thinks Tsuna isn’t looking (and doesn’t realise that he always is). The look on his face when he watches his boss quietly from the corner of one eye, when there is no one but them and the world is quiet; the way he unconsciously taps his fingertips in time with Tsuna’s breathing, as though Tsuna is the most beautiful concerto he has ever heard and his hands itch to spread him out and play.
(And maybe Tsuna thinks he’s beautiful then, too, when he is so close and calm and content; thinks that maybe he would like to whisper Hayato, Hayato against those lips and teach him that it means Welcome home.)
Prompt :: December 2nd, “make him tame so he can live in peace with the world” [31_days]
Pairing :: 5927
Rating :: PG
Wordcount :: 300
Summary :: It’s the little things that are most worth fighting for, after all.
After all this time, he still doesn’t care - if you asked Sawada Tsunayoshi to write down a list of his priorities, the mafia probably wouldn’t even make the top ten (especially when you consider that just writing the word is liable to send him spiraling into yet another panic attack). He doesn’t care about Vongola heirs or hyper-intuition or dying wills; and mostly, he just wishes that he could coax his own name from between his best friend’s lips and not fall down afterwards.
(Tsuna, look! he imagines that he might say. I’ve been practising, and I thought maybe - I could set off some fireworks with you? And his fingers would be burnt and smell like ash but thread so neatly through Tsuna’s own, and the name would be whispered into his hair with every spark, always somehow heard.)
It’s the little things that are most worth fighting for, after all.
Like the curve of Gokudera-kun’s smile - not the disturbingly maniacal grin, not the Everything’s okay; just leave it to me! façade he thinks a right-hand man should wear; but the way his lips curl upwards when he thinks Tsuna isn’t looking (and doesn’t realise that he always is). The look on his face when he watches his boss quietly from the corner of one eye, when there is no one but them and the world is quiet; the way he unconsciously taps his fingertips in time with Tsuna’s breathing, as though Tsuna is the most beautiful concerto he has ever heard and his hands itch to spread him out and play.
(And maybe Tsuna thinks he’s beautiful then, too, when he is so close and calm and content; thinks that maybe he would like to whisper Hayato, Hayato against those lips and teach him that it means Welcome home.)