A/N: Another 8059! This pairing is seriously taking over my life. Quick make them canon, Akira Amano! The suspense is killing me!
I hope the 'jump-in line' will come in handy for all you fellow perverts out there! (A 'jump-in line' is what I call a line that lets you jump in on the action, namely the lime.) Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own KHR.
For if that were true Gokudera would strip a lot more often. Heck, I'll make him go naked.
Gokudera dumped Yamamoto's limp body onto the feathery bed, before collapsing on top of his long legs, huffing.
"Oi, baseball idiot, you all right?" He murmured, cocking his head to look at his classmate. The position he was lying in presented to him a very... scenicview of Yamamoto's crotch. And thanks to that, he suddenly found himself studying the zippers of Yamamoto's pants - and fantasizing what lies underneath.
Gokudera quickly shook his head furiously, shaking off his blush and stupid thoughts and cursed at himself. He attributed those wrong thoughts that have been buzzing at him for the past weeks to Ryohei, who was feeding them extreme info on the world of birds and bees under the disguise of 'sex education'.
Deciding that it would be best to get out of that awkward position before anyone bursts into the infirmatory and spreads rumours about them again, Gokudera gathered his remaining ounce of strength and leapt off the bed. "Oi," he elbowed Yamamoto, "Baseball idiot, talk."
Yamamoto merely furrowed his brows, seemingly unhappy that he was disturbed in his sleep. He let out a little moan of protest.
Gokudera suddenly felt something stir inside his chest, like a little fire licking the walls of his lungs. Damn baseball idiot and his moans. Profanities gathered at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out any moment. As much as he would like to screw that idiot in front of him right now... Wait, what the hell did he just say??
Gokudera let out a grunt, and proceeded to retrieve a wet towel for Yamamoto. Sometimes he wondered what wrong have he commited in his past life to have an idiot for a lover; an idiot who falls sick, nevertheless. He often pondered why he had to fall in love with single-celled organisms who are short of nothing but a brain.
Gently placing the towel on Yamamoto's clammy forehead, he couldn't help having a heartache at the sight of the once-tireless athelete, now reduced to the state of a useless, regular baseball idiot thanks to the ever-annoying fever. To Gokudera, he was not just any baseball idiot. He was a different baseball idiot, but a baseball idiot nevertheless. The way Yamamoto's eyelids crinkled up everytime he cringed in extreme discomfort seemed to pinch at Gokudera's sympathetic heart. Yamamoto's just so... vulnerable and helpless right now.
Vulnerable. Something shot down his nerves all the way to inside his pants. Gokudera clenched his teeth in irritation again. Stop with all those fucking thoughts will you?! All of a sudden all his benign concerns for the rain guardian dissolved and was promptly refreshed with fresh doses of annoyance. Why the heck must he be so fucking... seductive? That baseball idiot was really asking for a beating, but Gokudera decided it would be best to murder him after he recovers.
Gokudera's eyes were plastered on Yamamoto's heaving chest. He had fallen asleep on that broad chest of his countless times when 8 hours of nonstop coaching still failed to drill some common sense into that non-existant brain of his, but this time, it seemed so much more different. Maybe it was because his chest was rising more dramatically due to the fever.
That's right. It's the fever's fault. Once Yamamoto recovers, those thoughts will stop bugging him.
Gokudera contemplated whether or not to relief Yamamoto of his sufferings, given the current hormonal crisis he's going through. He sighed, cursing himself, Yamamoto, the fever, and the entire fucking situation. He bent over and started unbuttoning Yamamoto's shirt. Gingerly, his trembling fingers slid the button off the hole one by one. Damn it, why is his fingers shaking so hard? It didn't help that Yamamoto's addictive scent wafted so provocatively into his nostrils. The golden sunrays bounced off his skin, giving off a bland glow, with small droplets of sweat scattered across the surface of his toned chest.
Finally the last of the buttons came off. Gokudera flipped the damned shirt off to reveal Yamamoto's entire torso. Gokudera's jaws almost dropped, but thankfully he has enough dignity to keep it shut. He just gulped, hard, at the masterpiece laid out in front of him. Yes he is in a relationship with Yamamoto, but not once in his entire life had he seen him naked, or even topless. Their idea of skinship was a hug or lying on each other's stomach, nothing more. It was a totally different kind of experience actually. That burning sensation buried deep inside his senses tickled him once more.
No, it is perfectly normal, to do that to a patient with a fever. Perfectly normal.
But his eyes just remained transfixed on Yamamoto's body. His eyes and body seemed to be of two separate entities as he soaked the cloth in cold water once more. He felt his breathings become shallower as he drew the damp cloth closer to him. Taking in a deep breath, knowing that it could mean life or death, Gokudera slapped the cloth down on Yamamoto's torso. On the surface, he was merely wiping his friend's body to cool him down. Normal, brainless people would have seen it as that and just leave it there and then, because it was supposed to be a perfectly normal gesture of concern for a perfectly normal friend.
So why can't he think like a normal brainless person?
Gokudera felt his face boiling bright red, whether from embarassment or that burning sensation inside his pants he didn't know. That feeling was just screaming for his urges and desires to explode out of him, or out of his pants in this case. Gokudera almost couldn't take it anymore, having to bite hard onto his teeth to restrain himself.
A sudden familliar contact on his wrist made him jolt. "Ah!" Gokudera crashed backwards onto the ground from the overwhelming shock. Rubbing his sore butt, as much as he'd hate to rub at the moment, he hissed, "Yamamoto? What the fuck?"
Yamamoto chuckled at the sight of the Italian. He tilted his head over and flashed his cheeky grin at him, as though Gokudera would understand what it meant.
Unfortunately, Gokudera did get what it meant. Face still lobster red and gaze falling on the floor, he sulked, "What?" It was a statement rather than a question, and he mentioned that quite unconvincingly.
Yamamoto laughed somemore, jolting straight up into a sitting position. "I've seen everything, Gokudera," He confessed. "That red face of yours when you were wiping my body."
Gokudera's blush just deepened several shades, appearing as though his pale skin would be torn apart by that dominating blush of his. The way Yamamoto's abs grew more defined when he sat up didn't help to tone down his embarassment at all. Quickly gathering anything he could rebutt with, he barked, "You asshole! You weren't sick were you?! And you freakin' made me lug the entire 63 kg of you all the way here!?"
Yamamoto's eyes merely widened in innocence, as he rested the back of his palm on his forehead. "No, I'm really having a fever. Want to check?" He pointed at his forehead.
Tch, is this fuckhead doing it on purpose, or is he really stupid?
Gokudera heaved himself off the cold floor and stood up, waving to signal his rejection. "Anyway, you don't seem to be seriously in need of my help anymore. I'm heading back to class. See you later," he pivoted around and strolled towards the door.
Yes, quick, get the fucking hell out of here.
"Gokudera," Yamamoto clasped Gokudera's elbow. Gokudera had to clench his teeth at the tingling sensation that shot straight to his manhood the moment Yamamoto's skin landed on his. Gritting his teeth, he slowly turned his head around to glare at the patient, "WHAT."
Yamamoto blinked at him, seemingly unsure himself, before exploding in his bouts of laughter again. "No... Nothing. I didn't know why my hand just..." He scratched his head sheepishly, saying it as though there was nothing wrong about that.
Gokudera hissed and jerked his own arm back. All of a sudden his hand felt cold. Sheesh, that idiot's fever must be really high. "Tch," he spat, "I guess I'd have to stay. The fever's burning your non-existent brain."
What is he doing? You're bringing yourself to death's door, smartass.
Yamamoto beamed like a child. "Thanks!" he smiled. "Ah, this is so troublesome!" He complained as he stretched his arms over his head, pulling every single muscle Gokudera didn't want to see into view.
Gokudera's eyebrows twitched in frustration. Ignoring the commotion that's starting inside his pants, he crossed his arms, nagging, "That's just how it is. Now shut up and get back down on the bed."
Yamamoto's eyes widened for a moment, before obeying Gokudera's orders, lips trembling with amusement.
"What now?" Gokudera cursed, annoyed.
"Ahaha, I guess this is what Ryohei-senpai calls 'kinky'," Yamamoto laughed, completely un-embarrassed by what just came out of his mouth.
Gokudera, on the other hand, turned into a tomato. "Sh... Shut up, baseball idiot," he barely managed to force these words out of his throat. Damn it, why does everything sound so... perverted now?
Yamamoto just ignored his instructions and continued peering into his green eyes, "Gokudera, I... I don't know if it's because of the entire 'kinky-ness' of the situation now, or the fact that I'm topless and lying on a bed. But I... I have this sudden urge to kiss you."
Gokudera almost tripped over his own foot. "HUH??!!"
Here we go!
Before he could react he was shoved towards Yamamoto, who met his lips with his own mesmerizing ones. The moment that familliar taste dissolved in his mouth, any signs of resistance ceased. He felt Yamamoto's strong arm wrap around his slim waist, pulling him closer. Gokudera's entire weight was on him, albeit being precariously balanced by one foot.
Gokudera opened his mouth, and welcomed Yamamoto's tongue in. The tip of his tongue teased at the roof of Gokudera's mouth. Gokudera felt a whimper escape his throat. They've had thousands of french kisses before, all equally intense as this. But somehow, this time that ticklish sensation Yamamoto induced in his mouth made his senses throb more than it usually did. Tch, stupid Ryohei and his sex talks.
Their tongues left passionate trails all over the insides of each other's mouth, and was yet craving to claim more territories. Saliva threads broke off when they had to part to breathe, before colliding into each other's lips again. Gokudera ran his hand through Yamamoto's stained cheeks. Whether was it sweat or saliva he didn't really want to know. He just knew that the soft, silky texture of his skin was one of the many thousand reasons that lured him to expose his weakness to him. Yamamoto, too, slid his hand up and down the slight curvature of his waist, feeling the unlikely feminity of the delinquent. His other hand cupped the back of Gokudera's head, grasping his hair to place him in an ideal position for him. By then Gokudera's leg had already took off from the ground, such that he was lying on top of Yamamoto.
Gokudera's ruffled tucked-out shirt finally lifted up, letting Yamamoto's hot skin brush past his smooth one. It was one thing feeling Gokudera's waist through his clothes, but it was another feeling his bare skin. The sudden contact made Gokudera jump a little, before prying his hands off Yamamoto's face to pull it back down.
Yamamoto grabbed his wrist again, breaking off slightly from the passionate kiss to order him, "Don't."
Gokudera gazed right back into his eyes, submissiveness coated all over. He sighed, and inched back in for the kiss. Yamamoto, seemingly pleased, started suckling on the tip of his tongue. His own fingers started exploring Gokudera's body, etching his marks all over the white skin. Gokudera let out an uncontrollable grunt, and his hands found their way to what they had been itching for - Yamamoto's chest.
It was muscular, just as he'd expected it to be, firm, but at the same time there were hints of softness on the surface. His skin was simply unbelievably alluring. Yamamoto's hands drew Gokudera's shirt all the way up to just below his chest. He almost gasped in Yamamoto mouth when he felt the sudden chilling air whip him. Yamamoto, too, arched his back when he felt Gokudera's cold hands brush past his nipples, prompting him to take in Gokudera's body even more.
He caressed Gokudera's lean chest, feeling about the silky texture of his skin. He licked Gokudera's frail tongue vigorously, and ruthlessly toyed about with his lover's nipples with his skillful fingers. Gokudera bit down hard on Yamamoto's lower lip to restrain that moan from erupting out his mouth. They could taste a salty scent that dripped out, but none of them cared.
Unable to take it any longer, Yamamoto ripped Gokudera's shirt right off, sending buttons flying everywhere. Gokudera threw his head back, partly due to the beastly instinct that was so raw inside him now, and partly due to the need to restrain that instinct. "No... baseball idiot..." he panted, sounding almost subdued, "At this rate your fever'll..."
Yamamoto didn't wait for him to finish his sentence before crashing into his mouth again. It was a good minute before he broke off, "If this is what I get everytime I fall sick... I want to be sick forever." Then the lips collided again.
Yamamoto's hands were now lingering about the waistband of his boxers, tickling Gokudera so much. Gokudera's legs would freeze everytime his fingers got close to the burning sensation in his pants. As seconds flew by the waistband would lower, exposing more and more of Gokudera's snow white skin.
"Stop... teasing, baseball idiot," Gokudera reprimanded.
Yamamoto gazed back at him with his child-like eyes, "Then what should I do?"
Gokudera bit his lips, in a provocative way no less, seemingly annoyed that he had to spell everything out. Since when did the baseball idiot get to boss him around?
Oh yeah, everytime they makeout.
"Well?" Yamamoto probed, his burning fingers frozen to cruelly let that throbbing rhythm in Gokudera's nerves ebb away.
Gokudera clenched his teeth again to show his irritation, leering aggressively, but failing to, apparently, into Yamamoto's eyes, "Do... what Ryohei taught us,"
Thankfully nobody said anything the next day when Gokudera reported to class with a fever.
A/N: Phew. That was the most intense one I've ever written yet! I hope my lime writing skills isn't too bad though. XD And I hope you liked it! :D
I don't read enough yaoi so I don't have confidence in writing a 8059 lemon so I will just stick to fluff and lime for the moment. But if you guys want to continue writing the lemon for this please feel free to do so! I would appreciate it very much!
And please review or PM me to tell me how I can improve! Thank you! And thank you for reading!