Title: Seduction - His Forte
Rating: PG-15 to R
Characters: Yamamoto, Gokudera, Squalo, Tsuna, Ryohei and Hibari
Pairing: 8059, more of 59 subtlely chasing 80 actually.
Warnings: There's sex, Gokudera and massive fail!
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me
"You look so good with that jersey on, Hayato"
Hayato? When had the baseball freak started calling him that. But before he could voice it Yamamoto did something with his hands that made his back arch and white flood his mind. "Oh, do that again?" He heard himself moan softly. He felt Yamamoto chuckle before his hands closed around his weeping erection and it felt like heaven.
He moaned and mewled appreciatively while trying to rub himself against the taller teen to stimulate himself even more. He wanted more and the damn freak was going to give him that. He threw his arms around the broad shoulders of the baseball player pressing himself against the well defined chest, moaning when he felt his overly sensitive nipples rub against the cloth of Yamamoto's baseball jersey. "God, Hayato!" he felt more than heard the whisper against the side of his neck where Yamamoto was busy nipping and sucking, marking him. Heat pooled in his gut.
He moaned in disappointment when he felt Yamamoto's hand leave his weeping length, but then threw back his head in a scream when he felt the other teens throbbing length rub against it. Vaguely he could hear Yamamoto cursing in the background, but he was far too lost in the sensory overload to give it much thought. "Hayato, god, oh god!"
He continued rubbing against the baseball player wantonly, pulling mewls and moans from himself and curses and non-sensical whispers from the baseball player. But something was missing, he was not sure what. He needed something more. He raised his legs, slowly dragging them up the back of the other teen's legs drawing a low moan from the taller boy before wrapping them around his hips, crossed at the ankles. He arched his back to further increase the wonderful friction when Yamamoto whispered, "Let me in, Hayato," and it clicked in his head. The groan that rumbled out of Yamamoto sounded raw, almost animalistic in his need. And Hayato was lost.
Gokudera jerked up with a gasp and groaned at the feeling of something cool against his skin and boxers. It was incredibly unpleasant, but he felt too relaxed and tired to move. He couldn't sleep either. The memory of the dream, no, nightmare was still too fresh in his mind. He felt like throwing something at the wall in frustration. Sure, he had never been the most normal guy. But at least he hadn't fancied men. At least he had dreamt about… serving the tenth before.
He shook his head to clear his head of all the unpleasant thoughts. This had been happening since the assassination attempt on the tenth. His heart clenched with fear at the thought, his stomach still doing flip-flops whenever he remembered the absolute terror he had felt when he heard that the tenth had been attacked. If Yamamoto hadn't been there with that kintoki of his, (he swallowed to wet his dry throat) tenth would have died. He shook his head again to clear it. He didn't need to think about it. The tenth was safe.
But his stupid mind instead latched onto the image of Yamamoto, how he had looked like. All serious with his jaws clenched, mouth set in a grim line, eyes burning with blood lust. He shivered. It was a weird look on Yamamoto, a part of him didn't ever want to see the look again. But another part of him – the more twisted side – wanted Yamamoto's eyes fixed on him with the same intensity.
He groaned when he felt his length harden at the image. To make matters worse, his body was gay for the one and only baseball freak. Life couldn't get worse.
Gokudera finally decided to do something about it when he realized that the lethal GAY-ness he felt for the baseball freak was not going to go away by simply ignoring it. In fact, it actually got worse. And instead of focusing on his duties to the tenth, he got distracted by the stupid baseball freak. If Yamamoto was present around him and the tenth – which was always – he would end up focusing on the baseball freak. Yamamoto's stupid smiles, the occasional smirks he had taken to flash here and there, the brown eyes that would sharpen with startling intensity, the broadness of his shoulders. The stupid freak was still growing. He towered over Gokudera, and Gokudera had shot up himself. A lot.
The baseball freak was altogether too distracting for his own good. And the stupid girls that had taken to following Yamamoto around wherever he went, he felt like blowing them up. But the tenth had advised him not to do anything like that, so he restrained himself. The tenth was all too nice, Gokudera adored him for it. But Yamamoto, he was stupid and a freak. And if Gokudera had to suffer from lethal GAY-ness, then so did Yamamoto.
He would kill himself before he made the first move. Hence the logical conclusion pointed to Yamamoto confessing to him. So all he had to do was make the dumb runt realize that he had the HOTS for Gokudera. Simple.
Now all he had to do was come up with a plan.
PLAN A: Make Yamamoto long for him by dressing sexily.
The pants rode low on his hips showing off his angular hips and the only reason why they clung on to him was due to the extreme tightness. The tank top was black, a good contrast for his skin making him appear pale. The shirt sufficiently unbuttoned both at the top and bottom so that when he stretched it would show off the bellybutton piercing. He felt sufficiently sexy, of course he couldn't be too eccentric with his style if he wanted the psycho prefect off his back. So this had to do. He could see the scenario already in his mind –
"Wow Gokudera, you look sooooo hot!" Yamamoto would whisper to him before bending down to nip at his exposed shoulders pulling a moan out of Gokudera. He would turn around and slide his arms around Yamamoto before leaning up to nip at Yamamoto's lips playfully.
"How hot do I look?" he would whisper seductively and Yamamoto's eyes would sharpen with the same intensity. A shiver would run down his slight frame and then they would kiss passionately, not caring about the rest of the world. It would be just the two of them.
And then Yamamoto, with a sweet look on his face, would drop down onto his knees with his arms open. And declare "Hayato, you look so hot that it's made me realize just what I've been missing out in my life. I've always loved you, so please be mine!"
OK, so the scenario was a bit exaggerated but with Yamamoto, anything was possible.
With one last look at the mirror he stalked out of his apartment, sure in the knowledge that he would run into the baseball nut on his way to the tenth's house. He cockily glared at anyone who stared. Sure enough, he heard the baseball nuts greeting before he felt the lamp post drape himself over him. He shrugged off the arm par usual, but today as he dislodged the arm around his shoulder his shirt skidded to a side leaving his shoulders almost bare. The tank top was there but it did nothing to distract from the pale skin.
When he turned towards the baseball nut he was staring at the exposed skin with an almost dazed look in his eyes. His ego purred at the look, and as if his body couldn't resist, he arched back in a yawn. Stretching his hands over his head so that the idiot noticed his piercing down there and the ridiculously low riding pants. He watched with delight as Yamamoto's mouth opened to let out a ragged breath and his eyes sharpen at the sight.
But then the spell broke.
"I will bite you to death for desecrating the Namimori School uniform!"
And the next thing he knew he was running for his life from the psychotic prefect, cursing and yelling as the psycho chased him, brandishing his tonfa's all around the place.
Later he would hear Yamamoto say to Tsuna "Gokudera's very skinny isn't he? And he's so pale. Maybe we should take him on a picnic to the beach and I'll bring the food!"
Stupid Baseball nut!
Plan A – failure.
PLAN B: Win Yamamoto over with his cooking.
So PLAN A had failed, Gokudera wasn't deterred. He could do this. He wasn't stupid, he knew Yamamoto was interested. Now if only the idiot would realize it himself. But who was he kidding? All that the idiot ever thought about was baseball, and more baseball. Stupid nut.
So he kinda not-invited the nut case over to his place one day. After the right amount of drama of course, the huffing and puffing on his side a sure-fire way to get Yamamoto to pester and follow him home. Surprisingly enough, it had been Yamamoto who had started the conversation about Italian food. And when Gokudera started huffing and puffing about that too, Yamamoto predictably started annoying him to cook for him. The idiot was too naïve for his own good.
Gokudera didn't usually cook for himself. Pizzas were fine for him. But in order to get Yamamoto to confess to him he had to do something special, like surprise the confession out of him. He could see the scenario in his head already –
"Mmmmm…. Hayato! This is sooo gooooood," Yamamoto would murmur straight into Gokudera's ears, wrapping his arms around Gokudera's smaller frame.
"Shut up, baseball freak," he would mutter squirming in the embrace, making sure to rub his ass against Yamamoto's crotch. And then Yamamoto would lose it all and go down on his knees and declare with open arms "Hayato, the food has made me realize that I love you. I have loved you for a long time!"
OK, so the scenario was a bit exaggerated, it wouldn't quite happen like that. But it would pull the confession out of the baseball freak. Now all he had to do was figure out the way to cook the Fusilli with eggplant and sausages. He had looked up the recipe from the internet last night and everything was ready to be made. How hard was it going to be to cook following a recipe?
An hour later Gokudera was too busy cursing himself for not looking up dicing and slicing in the internet. He was supposed to dice the onion, but what the hell was dicing? Why did the chefs have to use such flowery language? Couldn't they just use simple terms like cutting?
So there he was cutting the onion into pieces, busy sniffling and wiping the runny nose on his shirt feeling like a miserable mess. He hated cooking!
"Hey Gokudera, the past is overcooked –"
"Get out of the kitchen" he muttered still busy sniffing. He rushed to the electric cooker to turn it off. Curse the pasta. Just had to ruin itself didn't it?
"Hey Gokudera, are you crying – haha?" Gokudera glared at the freak. Him? Crying? He restrained the urge to screech at Yamamoto. He was trying to get Yamamoto to confess to him.
"Does it look like I am crying, you idiot! I was cutting up onions," He viciously dumped the onions into the wok.
"Haha, nah! The onions look interesting though, haha"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Aren't you supposed to be stirring the onions? They look a bit brown now,"
"Shut up, you idiot! I know what I am doing, alright,"
"But Gokudera, I'm just trying to help,"
"Well don't! Stupid baseball freak," He threw the first thing that came to his hand, which turned out to be a bottle. White Wine? When Yamamoto ducked they both watched, with fascinated horror, the bottle fly and land in the wok full of burning oil and burnt onions. Miraculously, they managed to escape the explosion that took place in his kitchen.
Later, while he strained against the urge to just throw himself in front of a moving vehicle and be done with it, the baseball freak happily recounted the tale to a horrified looking tenth, an amused looking father and a condescending Reborn. Life couldn't get any worse for Gokudera.
PLAN B – Failure.
PLAN C: Make Yamamoto jealous by getting a girl friend.
That should be simple. Girls tended to stalk him everywhere. Creepy annoying things. Now all he had to was choose the least annoying love confession and go out with the girl until Yamamoto realized just what he had lost. And when Yamamoto lost control he would dump the girl and go out with the baseball idiot. He could see the scenario clearly in his head –
He would be leaning towards the girl when Yamamoto catches them. And then Yamamoto would transform into a beast and scare the shit out of the girl and pin him against the wall.
"Just what do you think you are doing, Gokudera?" He would growl against Gokudera's neck before biting it. Gokudera would scream wantonly and grab onto Yamamoto's broad shoulders.
"What do you think, baseball freak?" his defiant response would pull a growl out of Yamamoto before he dropped on to his knees all of a sudden, with a sad look on his face. Then he would open his arms to Gokudera and declare.
"Hayato, I love you. Please be mine and mine only,"
OK, so the scenario was a bit exaggerated, but he was sure it would be something like that.
So, that day at lunch when a girl approached them bravely on the roof top and confessed to him, he stood up. That got Yamamoto's attention focused on him. Gokudera usually ignored the girls after all. He almost threw up when he saw the pink envelope with the cute little hearts on it. BLARGH!! But he forced himself to extend a hand with a painful grimace on his face, saying a polite thank you to the girl. Quickly scanning the letter for the name of the girl he smiled at her painfully before nodding at her.
He watched the girl's eyes widen, they were a non-descript brown, not intense like Yamamoto's, his brain supplied. And a breathless gasp escaped her before she whispered.
"Are you accepting, Gokudera-kun?"
"Yeah," he mumbled softly.
The squeals that came from the friends of the girl horrified him, but he was used to the squealing. So with a raised eyebrow he nodded at the friends, then watched fascinated as some girls fainted, and others swoon before fainting. Nothing new.
With a stutter of apology, the girl, Yukari-chan, stumbled off to haul her friends out of the roof top.
Gokudera could feel a pair of intense eyes focused on him. He delighted in it. When he turned to sit down he caught Yamamoto's eyes and a jolt of desire shot down his body. Those eyes, intense and focused solely on him – this he could live with. He smirked at Yamamoto before sitting down at his spot, listening happily to the tenth while he congratulated him on getting a girlfriend. And then suddenly Yamamoto chuckled.
"Haha! Can't believe you accepted, Gokudera!" the tone sounded wistful and Gokudera waited with bated breath for the long awaited confession.
"I guess that means I should get myself one too,"
It took all of his effort not to fling himself at Yamamoto screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" but he couldn't stop his eyes from widening or "So if I break up with her, you wouldn't get one?" from flowing out.
He could feel the tenth's surprised eyes on him along with Yamamoto's. Which floor was the roof top again?
"Haha! Don't do that, Gokudera, you'll break her heart!" Yamamoto smiled at him stupidly and his stupid heart skipped a beat before sinking.
Later after seeing the tenth home, he called Yukari-chan and took her out on a date before apologizing to her. He was surprised when she didn't react like Bianchi when he broke it off with her. At least she hadn't thrown a tantrum.
PLAN C – failure.
PLAN D: Get Yamamoto drunk on his 18th birthday enough to lower his inhibitions.
Alcohol worked miracles. It got Trident Shamal to treat boys, normal non-poisonous food out of his sister and even given the normally dangerously clumsy Dino grace. If alcohol could make such miracles happen, then surely it wouldn't be so difficult to pull a confession out of a drunken Yamamoto. He could clearly see the scenario in his mind already –
Yamamoto would be drunk out of his mind, tanned cheeks flushed pink and eyes bright with the haze of alcohol. He would stumble towards Gokudera wearing one of his really adorably stupid grins and then whisper to his lips "You look beautiful, you always look beautiful,"
Gokudera would then chuckle drunkenly and swat the baseball idiot on his shoulders before pulling him close. Yamamoto would goofily grin at him and sloppily kiss him on his lips and cheeks, before dropping on to his knees. And then he would declare with open arms.
"Hayato, I am a stupid idiot, a brainless troll who's obsessed with baseball,l" Gokudera's heart would flutter waiting for Yamamoto to continue.
"But I love you, have loved you since I met you, and I am very sorry that it's taken me such a long time to realize. So please be mine and no one else's,"
OK, so the scenario was a bit exaggerated, but alcohol was involved.
So as the day of Yamamoto's birthday approached, he convinced the tenth to throw a birthday party for Yamamoto, making sure to make the tenth think that it was his idea. Which had not been quite as difficult as he had thought, all he had to do was grunt a few times about the stupid idiot and him turning 18. Bless the tenth and his naiveté but he was there as the right hand man for a reason.
But for all his geniuses he hadn't calculated the possibility of the fucking long hair being there. A very DRUNK long hair – who was currently molesting and rutting against HIS very DRUNK baseball freak. And the baseball freak was happily sticking his tongue down the shark's throat. Had he no shame?
He drunkenly looked at the tenth. God, he felt like lying down. "Yes tenth?"
"Are you ok?" the tenth was flushed, tipsy his mind supplied, but the eyes were full of concern. Now, why couldn't he have fallen for a nice girl? Then the tenth wouldn't have to waste energy worrying about him like this. He beamed at the tenth as much as his drunken brain allowed and replied with an enthusiastic nod before promptly passing out.
Later he would wake up with a splitting headache, aspirin and a note from the baseball idiot thanking him at his bed side, feeling miserable but selfishly happy with the idea of Yamamoto bringing him home.
PLAN D – failure.
If he had thought that lawn head kissing him would make Yamamoto snap, he would have done it ages ago. But who would have guessed?
It was his birthday and another illegal drinking party. He was pleasantly buzzed, so he hadn't minded when Sasagawa pinned him to the wall of the hallway, away from all eyes. He had been confused and surprised when Sasagawa had crushed his lips with a forceful kiss. But he hadn't minded it that much, Sasagawa was good looking and it was not like as if the baseball freak was ever going to do this. And he was horny as hell.
He moaned wantonly, wrapping his arms around the older guy but then jerked back with surprise when Sasagawa was wrenched away from him. He watched with drunken fascination as Yamamoto punched Sasagawa, and then apologized to him, before dragging a very confused Gokudera away from the hallway to his room.
"You know, if you wanted to fuck someone so much, you should have just asked me," Yamamoto growled at him, pinning him to the door. What was with these guys and pinning him to hard surfaces? But Yamamoto looks so good, his brain supplied helpfully.
"What?" he mumbled, trying to glare at the baseball nut. He didn't receive a response to that. At least not a verbal one, his mind shut down as soon as Yamamoto crushed his lips with a forceful kiss. He sighed, winding his arms around the taller teen's broad shoulders.
"Why did you let him kiss you?" he heard Yamamoto mutter against his jaw. He blinked trying to process the question. Why had he?
"Why did you kiss long hair?" he drunkenly mumbled back, running his hands through Yamamoto's hair. He felt Yamamoto freeze against him, and he moaned at the loss of contact from the nut's lips to his neck where he had been nipping. A chuckle rumbled out of Yamamoto, before he lifted Gokudera and pressed him against the door more firmly. Automatically he wrapped his legs around the taller teen and ground against him, pulling moans out of the two of them.
"Hey, Hayato," Yamamoto whispered against his lips through kisses.
"Shut up, baseball freak," he snapped before freezing against the taller teen. Yamamoto was looking at him with those intense eyes again. He ground against Gokudera pulling a low moan from the smaller teen.
"Let me in, Hayato" Yamamoto whispered and Gokudera's eyes widened before his face relaxed into a small smirk.
"On the bed."
A/N: Please read and review! And hope you enjoyed it!! Much love.