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“You know,” Yamamoto told him, seated backwards in one of the other piercing parlor chairs with his long legs sprawled haphazardly before him, “most people get one on each ear. When they get two.”
Gokudera rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to jerk his head, trapped by the girl patiently swabbing his ear with alcohol. He suspected Yamamoto had timed it like that on purpose. He was stupid, but cunning.
“Don’t think so hard. You’ll strain something,” he finally retorted. Yamamoto laughed, a tactic neatly calculated to be as maddening as possible. A stalling tactic; he couldn’t argue with a laugh, though God knew over the last seven years he had tried.
The piercings were quick, almost painless, two sudden punctures and then nothing. He didn’t flinch. Yamamoto watched the whole process with that weird quiet look in his eyes that said something was going on in his head, inasmuch as that ever happened. Past empirical evidence suggested a roughly sixty-five percent chance that Gokudera was going to want to kill him for whatever it was later. Forewarned, he tried a quelling look when Yamamoto opened his mouth again. It had never, to date, actually worked, but the possibility was always nonzero. Some part of him must’ve believed that or there was no explaining why he was still willing to be seen anywhere in public with Yamamoto.
“Looks good,” was all Yamamoto said, and when no amount of suspicious staring provoked anything Gokudera could smite him for he only grunted in answer.
“Yeah. ‘Course it does.”
Tsuna blanched a little the first time he saw it, predictably. Tsuna wasn’t really the type who went in for recreationally punching holes in his body. Yamamoto, who considered a weekly Squalo-baiting to be the height of hilarious good fun, naturally understood.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not really, Tenth,” Gokudera was quick to reassure him. Tsuna’s fingertips brushed feather-light and hesitant over the helix of his ear, carefully above the piercings, and Gokudera shivered with a sensation that had nothing to do with pain. The pads of Tsuna’s fingers took careful inventory, touching both piercings in turn gently enough to barely jar them. Two.
He wouldn’t have explained himself for anyone else. For Tsuna, who never needed the explanation in the first place, he always tried: “‘S a reminder.”
“Huh,” Yamamoto pronounced thoughtfully.
It was easy to forget, with as big as Yamamoto was, just how quietly he could move. There wasn’t really any space left to jump--Yamamoto’s arm closed around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. Too close to be headbutted effectively, but Gokudera put his palm to the man’s forehead and shoved pointedly just for the form of things.
“Oh.” Tsuna blinked, studying the small cuffs again with solemn eyes, and finally smiled almost wryly. Gokudera smiled back. It was always instant with Tsuna, catalytic chemicals in action, and he could ignore the enormous dipshit leaning heavily on him for the moment.
“You didn’t have to,” Tsuna finally finished, but kissed him so softly that he could still feel the way his lips were curved in a smile.
“Could’ve just gotten you a memo book, or something--oof.”
Tsuna silenced Yamamoto with another kiss, more efficient than Gokudera’s elbow to his gut, effectively sparing Yamamoto’s life for a few more seconds. At least for as long as the silence lasted.
Gokudera rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to jerk his head, trapped by the girl patiently swabbing his ear with alcohol. He suspected Yamamoto had timed it like that on purpose. He was stupid, but cunning.
“Don’t think so hard. You’ll strain something,” he finally retorted. Yamamoto laughed, a tactic neatly calculated to be as maddening as possible. A stalling tactic; he couldn’t argue with a laugh, though God knew over the last seven years he had tried.
The piercings were quick, almost painless, two sudden punctures and then nothing. He didn’t flinch. Yamamoto watched the whole process with that weird quiet look in his eyes that said something was going on in his head, inasmuch as that ever happened. Past empirical evidence suggested a roughly sixty-five percent chance that Gokudera was going to want to kill him for whatever it was later. Forewarned, he tried a quelling look when Yamamoto opened his mouth again. It had never, to date, actually worked, but the possibility was always nonzero. Some part of him must’ve believed that or there was no explaining why he was still willing to be seen anywhere in public with Yamamoto.
“Looks good,” was all Yamamoto said, and when no amount of suspicious staring provoked anything Gokudera could smite him for he only grunted in answer.
“Yeah. ‘Course it does.”
Tsuna blanched a little the first time he saw it, predictably. Tsuna wasn’t really the type who went in for recreationally punching holes in his body. Yamamoto, who considered a weekly Squalo-baiting to be the height of hilarious good fun, naturally understood.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not really, Tenth,” Gokudera was quick to reassure him. Tsuna’s fingertips brushed feather-light and hesitant over the helix of his ear, carefully above the piercings, and Gokudera shivered with a sensation that had nothing to do with pain. The pads of Tsuna’s fingers took careful inventory, touching both piercings in turn gently enough to barely jar them. Two.
He wouldn’t have explained himself for anyone else. For Tsuna, who never needed the explanation in the first place, he always tried: “‘S a reminder.”
“Huh,” Yamamoto pronounced thoughtfully.
It was easy to forget, with as big as Yamamoto was, just how quietly he could move. There wasn’t really any space left to jump--Yamamoto’s arm closed around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. Too close to be headbutted effectively, but Gokudera put his palm to the man’s forehead and shoved pointedly just for the form of things.
“Oh.” Tsuna blinked, studying the small cuffs again with solemn eyes, and finally smiled almost wryly. Gokudera smiled back. It was always instant with Tsuna, catalytic chemicals in action, and he could ignore the enormous dipshit leaning heavily on him for the moment.
“You didn’t have to,” Tsuna finally finished, but kissed him so softly that he could still feel the way his lips were curved in a smile.
“Could’ve just gotten you a memo book, or something--oof.”
Tsuna silenced Yamamoto with another kiss, more efficient than Gokudera’s elbow to his gut, effectively sparing Yamamoto’s life for a few more seconds. At least for as long as the silence lasted.
pyrodynamo here
(Anonymous) 2011-07-29 01:57 pm (UTC)(link)I do so love this though, I mean parts like this:
Tsuna wasn’t really the type who went in for recreationally punching holes in his body. Yamamoto, who considered a weekly Squalo-baiting to be the height of hilarious good fun, naturally understood.
It was so adorable and Reborn, I loved it, and then that poignant but gorgeous moment where they're so perfectly together:
“You didn’t have to,” Tsuna finally finished, but kissed him so softly that he could still feel the way his lips were curved in a smile.
I loved this, omg. You definitely need to write more
Gokudera topping Takeshi:'D ♥no subject
thank youuu it was fun to write, I just like drabbling random things. I should dig out some of the toppydera stuff and post it somewhere LMAO.
insidious subliminal messages there.