A/N: Hi! So I'm getting hormonal and decided to start a series of kinky 8059 role-playing moments. I swear I have been reading too much yaoi for my own good, and twisted my mind to what it is today. I thank thee, doujinshis and fanfics.

Just a warning though, Gokudera and Yamamoto and almost everybody will be super OOC, because let's admit it, we're all gathered here today for the porn. And I'm sorry to start off with a threesome, because I can't stop fantasizing when I'm doing my chemistry homework! (And there were test tubes and solutions and stuff!) And there may be other pairings when I feel like it. (Especially D18 with Hibari's new super suggestive weapon and Dino's whip!! Amano-sensei is testing our limits!!) AND! It will be updated as and when I like, because I am a very busy person. *nods nods*

So now that I've established the explicitness and senselessness of these perverted fics, please enjoy.

Roles of the day: Patient, Nurse and Doctor (TYL!59x80x59)
P.S. TYL!59 will be referred to as "Hayato"

Infirmaries Can't Be Entered Unless You're Seriously Injured

It was barely a second ago when Yamamoto felt nauseous and was ready to throw up anytime, but the moment he caught sight of the provocative nurse changing behind the translucent curtains, it was as if that was all the cure he needed. He felt better already.

He watched as the stand-in assistant pulled his shirt over his head and tossing it away, before grudgingly sliding effortlessly into a one-piece uniform Yamamoto couldn't quite make out of. But hell, the moment he reached under the dress and dropped his pants down, Yamamoto fell in love with it immediately.

The nurse stomped over to his bed, and yanked the closed fabric open. "Yeah what the fuck's your problem?" he grunted, scowling even more forcefully than ever.

Yamamoto laughed, and ignored the question - or rather, demand. "Gokudera looks cute in this nurse costume!" he commented, acknowledging the stirrings going on in between his legs.

Gokudera was clad in a pink attire, with sky-high hemlines that ended a few inches below his butt. The top half was buttoned on, with the exception of the first two buttons, which were left opened - dare he say it - deliberately. In addition to that, because Gokudera happened to be studying in the nurse's office before Yamamoto rushed in with his accident, the Italian had his notorious silver hair lazily tied up in a little tail, with stray strands falling attractively into place. His glasses were perched on top of his more-than-perfect nose bridge. Yamamoto was no fashion expert, but even he could tell Gokudera's porcelain skin matched the pink of the costume perfectly.

Gokudera scowled, "Shut up! If you hadn't banged the bloody door open so suddenly I wouldn't have knocked over my coffee and dirty my clothes and be forced to wear whatever was in the closet which happened to be this fucking thing! I swear if anyone came in and saw me like this your father'll be having idiot sashimi for dinner tonight!" Then, he hissed resentfully, "Stupid Shamal... Of all days to go on an emergency and leaving me to fucking stand in for you!"

Yamamoto laughed again in an attempt to calm the smoking bomber down - no pun intended. "Maa, maa! I think you're going to do a good job being a nurse! Even when you're just standing there I think my pain went away already!" Well, the nurse uniform did deserve its due credits.

Red tainted Gokudera's face, both from the anger and the embarrassment. Not wanting to dwell on this topic any longer, he barked again, "Shut up. If you do not need my medical attention then scram. I have better things to do." He purposely added the 'medical' in front of the 'attention', knowing full well what would be the answer if he hadn't stated explicitly.

Yamamoto clutched his abdomen and doubled over immediately. "Actually, I think the pain just came back," he announced.

Gokudera stuck his hand on his hips and rolled his eyes, "You're a terrible actor. Stop wasting my time."

Determined, Yamamoto collapsed.

"Not falling for that," Gokudera informed, and began to march away from him. He walked past the foot of the bed, and stole a glance at the stationary boy. He reminded himself that it was all an act again, peeled his eyes away and continued moving. When he picked up his dirtied shirt on lying on the floor, he peeked again at Yamamoto, who was still as frozen as his brain was. Gokudera thinned his lips, contemplated for a while, and sighed heavily.

"Oi, are you really alright?" he nudged with his foot at the Japanese. There was no response, so he jabbed at him a few more times.

And then he noticed that really microscopic twinkle in his extremely narrow slits of eye. That idiot's eyes were half-opened! That imbecile! And that blatantly obvious smile that's starting to tug at his lips pissed Gokudera even more. As if trying cool down his anger, a gust of cold air from the air conditioner blew, and Gokudera felt especially breezy down there.

Mother-effing shit he forgot he was wearing a damned skirt.

Gritting his teeth at his loss this round, he heeled Yamamoto hard in the face before quickly backing down, tugging at the hems of his skirt like a shy schoolgirl. "Watch what the fuck you're looking at!" he threatened.

Yamamoto jolted up straight and rubbed his bruised nose. But he quickly recovered and chuckled again. "Gokudera's wearing my favourite today."

Gokudera's face grew such a deep shade of scarlet red it was as if his head would explode any moment. Before he could open his mouth to shout back, Yamamoto laid back down, and flashed a contented grin, saying, "Isn't Gokudera supposed to take my clothes off for check-up?"

Gokudera spat, "Hell no. You have hands to do the job for you."

"Isn't that what nurses are supposed to do?"

Gokudera folded his arms over his chest, and retorted, "I'm underpaid and overworked. Live with it."

Yamamoto then proudly flashed his arm with Band-Aids plastered everywhere, boasting, "My arm is injured. I can't take off my clothes by myself."

He was about to answer back, when his rationality told him that the wisest move at the moment would be to put to good use the policy of appeasement, for instant and effective shutting up of the mouth. "Fine," he groaned, making sure his irritation was apparent. "Where?"

Gokudera carefully lifted up his baseball shirt, which smelt so warmly of Yamamoto right now, and had a slightly rude shock when he saw the large patch of redness spreading from his left hip to inside his pants. Gokudera had to tug the ends of his fitting pants a little lower, just marginally, to catch a full glimpse of the unsightly swell. "That's where the bat hit me, haha," Yamamoto explained.

Gokudera's furious blush drained immediately at the sight of his lover's injury. He furrowed his eyebrows in intense concentration, as he inspected the swollen area. He tapped his fingers on his chin thoughtfully as he tried recalling every medical book he had read to put to good use here.

Yamamoto, on the other hand, was leaning against the propped-up pillow quite blissfully, with Gokudera's head placed in such a satisfyingly suggestive position. That is, until a sharp pain shot up his spine. "Ow!" he exclaimed, straightening his back.

Gokudera looked up, his glasses now fallen to just the tip of his nose. "Sorry, did that hurt?" he apologised casually.

Gritting his teeth in an attempt to restrain himself from squealing at the adorable look on Gokudera's face, Yamamoto replied, "Yeah, a little."

"I'll be more gentle then," Gokudera promised in a professional way, before impatiently returning to examine the injury.

His fingers drew feather-light touches across Yamamoto's firm skin, sending millions of volts of electricity striking up the Rain Guardian's body. He bit down sharply on his lips to prevent those impeding moans from escaping. But there was no stopping that honest fellow down there.

Gokudera noticed the growing bulge in between the figure-hugging pants, and from then on became increasingly distracted by that. Some remedy for the wound was already on the tip of his tongue, before the Projection of Doom made its grand appearance. He tried shaking it off and attempted to recall the escaped information. But soon, somehow the stroking meant for inspection were reduced to pure, mindless stroking. Gokudera decided that he'd given up on that battle tactic long ago, and should move on to a new one. Besides, looking at the way Yamamoto's clenching his eyes shut and practically chewing on his lips, it seemed that neither of them are complaining.

Really, Gokudera had an amazingly strong resistance to temptations, nothing anyone said could ever sway him, except Tsuna of course. But perhaps his manhood and him were of two separate articles; its tolerance level was akin to that of Hibari's when he's having a bad hair day and lost his gel.

He caught sight of one strand of a short raven-black hair that strayed from the pants, and a smirk crept upon his lips. It's payback time for the humiliating defeat he suffered just now. He pressed the the tip of his index finger on it, trapping the thread, and began to rub it on the smooth skin.

Yamamoto pried his eyes open, and the scene that greeted him just made his buckle more acutely painful than ever. Gokudera with his ponytail that's starting to fall apart and jade green eyes that's almost covered by his long eyelashes, chin in hand as he toyed about with the strand sexily, and not forgetting the part where his arched back made his butt stick so seductively into the air, Yamamoto was at his limits.

"Go-Gokudera... Nn-!"

An evil crooked smile hung on Gokudera's lips when he cupped his hands over the tortured anatomy, and gave it a forceful sqeeze. Yamamoto yelped again in pain. When Gokudera released the victim from his clutches, he proceeded to parting the zippers on the pants where its fabric were directed towards the centre. "This is punishment for tricking me. Serves you right!" Gokudera chided. Even though he meant it quite literally, it was not his fault that the baseball idiot had another thing on his mind at the moment.

Tucking his hair behind his ear and positioning himself, he smirked and threatened with revenge coating his words, "Now do I have to clean your wounds?"

Wet, callous tongue wrapped around the leaking erection, relieving its itch by sliding up and down so dangerously along the shaft. The tip of the tongue dipped about in every possible corner of the organ, leaving not an inch neglected. Gokudera's spit-filled lips then enclosed themselves around the head of the shaft, fanning humid, warm air over the hot skin and swirling his agile tongue about the bulb, before sinking in deep into the slit in continuous motion.

As much as Yamamoto hated to ruin the Italian's hairstyle, he had no other choice than to grab his head because the sensation was too unbearable. He didn't know if Gokudera's head bobbing up and down was voluntary, or as a result of his hand's reflex actions. But that's not the point right now, what was important was that god, it felt good.

"Nn-! Go-Gokudera! I'm... I'm co-...!!"

The crazy tides of pleasure crashed in, but withdrew as fast as they came when Gokudera ended his ministrations abruptly. Disappointment flooding his senses, Yamamoto panted in between breaths, "...Huh...?"

Smacking his lips before wiping off the fluid with the back of his hand, Gokudera huffed proudly, "Che. This is for tricking me just now. We're even."

Unwilling to admit defeat, Yamamoto gathered whatever remaining energy he had and heaved the exasperated nurse in, until Gokudera was kneeling over the athlete. Smiling with the smug look Gokudera hated to see - for he was perfectly aware of what would happen next - Yamamoto hurriedly slid the buttons on his dress off.

"Oi, idiot. Crap, not here damn it!" Gokudera berated, but apparently Yamamoto's range of hearing was selective.

The minute the last button was off Yamamoto's impetuous hand yanked the side of the dress right off his shoulder, and then lapped urgently at his pink bud. Arching his back instinctively, Gokudera chided in between gritted teeth, "Nn, baseball idiot... Not... Nn... here!!"

His tongue compliantly left the hard nipple. But it was promptly followed by a finger sliding under the fabric of Gokudera's wet boxers. His fingers tickled Gokudera, having been massaging about the rim of his entrance. He asked again, "Oh, then here?"

The silver-haired boy gave, or at least tried to, his partner a menacing glare. But the tension building up backfired the attempt, making him look like he was pleading instead. (Goddamn it he actually looked like he was begging that idiot!) And as I've said, his manhood was displaying distinct signs of enthusiasm.

God knows how long it had been. God knows how many times they screamed each other's name. God knows where Gokudera's underwear disappeared to. On second thoughts, maybe God didn't really want to know.

Gokudera was spread out on his back, his uniform now unrecognisable with one side hanging loosely off his arm. His dress was pulled up to his stomach, revealing only his delicate red sacs dripping with liquid from the shaft hidden under the cloth. His ponytail went berserk, leaving the rubber band freely wounded around a few obedient strands. His glasses were knocked lopsided, with only one side left perched on his ear. "Ahn- Yama- Yamamoto..." he gasped, arms wrapped tightly around the taller boy's neck as he was being knocked into.

Plunging deeper and deeper into Gokudera's familiar hole, and disregarding the soreness on his bruise, Yamamoto replied with the same amplitude, "Goku-dera..."

The rhythm of the thrustings were at a crescendo. The pounding got even more agitated, both of them feeling it come very, very soon. Right when Gokudera was in his nth time of moaning, a new voice joined in.

"Nyahahaha! Is this where the candies are?!?!"

Yamamoto and Gokudera paused immediately, shooting each other looks that spelt trouble. 'Lambo!' they mouthed at the same time.

They tried to remain extraordinarily still and quiet, not even daring to breathe despite their desperate need for oxygen. Even Yamamoto struggled to continue being frozen, for if he moved sounds of pleasure would erupt from their throats again, which was extremely bad given the current circumstances. Shit, the curtains were not even closed!

The bubbly footsteps drew closer at an amazingly fast pace, especially when the feet are those of a child. "Nyahaha! Lambo-san will eat ALL the candies here!"

Yamamoto watched as the shadow on the floor traipsed closer and closer, clearer and clearer. Until a familiar looking afro-head popped out from behind the curtains.

His jaws dropped.

Their jaws dropped.

Everyone screamed.

Gokudera and Yamamoto were too flustered to be able to do much, except to panic and continue screaming. While Lambo burst into tears at the ferocity of the 'manly' screams (and at the monsters in between their thighs) and habitually whipped out the Ten Years Bazooka from his very functional hair.

"Oh no not the bazooka!" Yamamoto exclaimed.

"Fuck! Giving free shows to one idiot is bad enough already!" Gokudera became hysterical.

'Boom!' A cloud of dust exploded, and finally settled, while the duo ransacked their brains for a suitable explanation.

However, in Adult Lambo's place stood a certain silver-haired Italian Right Hand Man. He was dressed in a white robe, what seemed to be a doctor's, complete with a stethoscope strung around his neck. "What the-?" he asked, at no one in particular. His expression was a startled one, more at the sudden leap to the past than at the intimate activity his teenage self was engaging in.

"Adult Go-Gokudera?" Yamamoto was the first to break the silence.

Gokudera's face scrunched up in bafflement that finally set into his system. "Wa-wait. Where is Adult Lambo? Shouldn't he be here instead? Why are you here instead of him? If I'm here you shouldn't be here. And shouldn't I not be here if you were here? And shouldn't the idiot cow not be there if the idiot cow was there...?" Gokudera halted his track of thoughts, before slapping himself on his forehead, "Urrgh! I just confused myself!!"

Hayato dusted his coat, and began theorizing, "Looks like the bazooka's malfunctioned again. That worthless contraption was such a piece of crap in your time. But don't worry, ten years later it is much better than what it is now." Hayato looked up at them.

Yamamoto probed somemore, curious, "Haha, why is Adult Gokudera dressed like a doctor?" He wanted to ask about the stethoscope, but later realised that he couldn't remember the name, and so stuck with a simplistic way of phrasing the question.

Adult Hayato glanced at his stethoscope. "Oh this? I'm taking medical courses now, just in case that stupid old man Shamal dies. Then I will take over his position."

Yamamoto could only laugh at the cunningness of his future boyfriend, and Gokudera grew secretly proud of his rational thinking. And then they froze when they remembered the entire embarrassment of the situation, and hastily tried to pull out, although Yamamoto was very reluctant to.

"Say," Hayato's serious tone was suddenly dipped with a flavour of interest. A little revenge plan was hatching up inside his brain. This might be a little difficult, given the time limit. But then again he's the fucking Storm Guardian of Vongola, hell he's the fucking strongest Right Hand Man in the mafia. Heaven forbids him if he fails in such an elementary task.

He marched over to where the two-teens-becoming-as-one were and landed his hand on Yamamoto's flushed cheeks. Leaning in so close the younger boy could feel the other man's breath, Hayato asked in a low voice, "You don't look too well. Do you want a check up?"

Uneasy with how close the man was to his boyfriend - even if he was his older self, Gokudera snapped, "Hey! What the fuck are yo-"

Yamamoto, too, started muttering, even though he felt like Jiro was prancing about in his chest and Kojiro fluttering about in his tummy. "I- I- I'm oka..."

Hayato pulled on a smirk, and ran his fingers down his jaws, neck, and to his chest. He skillfully massaged his the area, feeling a small, hard protrusion form. "Well, you look like you need one. Your heartbeat's abnormal."

Gokudera could feel Yamamoto harden again inside him, and like an endless cycle, he too, got hard. He watched as Hayato's thumb circled about Yamamoto's nipple on top of his shirt, and his lover's scarlet face etched with erotic pleasure. His logic broke down again, like it always did when Yamamoto dominated his body. Mouth hanging slightly open and teary eyes screaming for more, he clutched Yamamoto's sweaty hand, and led it under his skirt, and wrapped around his own erection. From then on Yamamoto's hand automatically did what it was supposed to do.

Nobody knew when did Hayato climb onto the bed, not even Hayato himself. Yamamoto felt the nimble hand cease its ministrations, and suddenly his nipples were hit by a breeze of cool air when his shirt was lifted up by surprise. Hayato's skin met again with the surface of his abused bud, rubbing and flicking about it again with gusto, very much like what he did with Gokudera.

"Ahn-!!" Yamamoto moaned through gritted teeth, playing with Gokudera's dick even more roughly. Gokudera had to ball the bedsheets to restrain himself.

Chuckling, Hayato leant in, whispering into Yamamoto's ear, "Like it? That's ten years worth of vengeance right here."

Yamamoto shuddered, and vented his excitement all onto Gokudera's mucuous and firm length. The younger pianist's member felt like it was burning, as he jerked his own hip forward and back in momentum against Yamamoto's hard one, building up the pressure again.

Yamamoto, feeling the friction acting on both his member and sensitive areola, had to slice his teeth into his lips at the gratification. Hearing the emissions of whimpers from the carnal nurse and moans from the lecherous doctor might be too much for him to bear.

"Ahn-! Yama-Yamamoto... I'm going to... to..."

Hot, boiling liquid spilt on the large, slimy hand. Gokudera felt his body throb along to his strong and powerful heartbeat. His dick pulsated with much force as well. Yamamoto's hand was still relentlessly engulfing it. His chest heaved up and down, as his hand accidentally landed on his chest and brushed against his exposed pink blossom. "Nn!" He let out a soft cry. Sh-Shit! Why is he so... lewd right now?! It can't be the fucking nurse costume damn it!

Hayato, finally deciding enough time was spent with the foreplay, roamed his fingers downwards. His fingers trickled along the swordsman's waist, before yanking his pants down to his knees.

His fingers slid into the cracks, as he lectured the teen, "Do you know, where is the most accurate place-" Yamamoto gripped Gokudera forcefully when a digit slid into his wet virgin hole. "-to take temperatures?"

And with that, callous fingers drove into the tight hole, rubbing about the walls and mounting the tension. Yamamoto, who had never felt this sort of heavenly indulgence before, threw his head back, panting in uncoordinated breaths. He had forgotten about the work his hand was performing, which happened to revive the green-eyed monster inside his boyfriend. A jealous and thick-headed Gokudera, not wanting to lose out to that man who appeared out of thin air, reached for the trembling palm, and placed it over his drooling mouth.

He parted his thirsty lips and started nipping at the wet fingers, licking, suckling and sometimes nibbling on it. His hip started to move in motion again, albeit weakly. "Nn..." A sliver of the barely audible cry escaped his puckered lips.

Yamamoto's jaws hung slightly open, his jaw muscles unable to hold on any longer. When his gaze flitted down and saw Gokudera nibbling at his fingers, he had to blink. Nope, he's not dreaming. "Goku-Gokudera...?" Why is Gokudera so proactive now, when he's never initiated anything in bed? Could it- Could it be the nurse costume?

"Doubting all these?" Hayato's slick voice broke his thoughts. He scoffed, "Idiot. Do you think I would ever put on such a ridiculous costume at all?"

Yamamoto's eyes widened, as he glanced at the flushing Gokudera. Giving a strengthless scowl, Gokudera stammered, although he intended to hiss, "I-It's only f-for today. Do-Don't f-fucking bet on it that I will... do it again."

Hayato chortled, both at his teenage self and at the white juice streaking down the insides of Yamamoto's thighs. The next second they know, the Italian doctor was inside his patient, pumping clumsily, for this was his first time doing this, okay, these; at being the seme, and taking part in a threesome. Holy hell he's a whole new level higher than that baseball idiot at home. He gloated mentally at the win, although his body was gloating at an entirely different matter.

Gokudera almost felt like he was dying, having just came and getting thrust forcefully into again. As lethargic as he felt, he couldn't complain much, the rhythmic thrilling sensation compensated for the exhaustion. He gave up on the wet fingers and dropped it using his chest as a platform. He arched his back, fists scrunching up the bedsheet over his head as gasps escaped his throat. His enervated tongue was hanging mildly off his salivated lips, a few stubborn trickles still dripping off the tip of it.

Yamamoto had to lean forward and support himself with his arms. The grinding on both his front and back was exhilarating, almost blissful. At first he was immobile, letting Hayato do the work pounding into the both of them. But he felt the inexperienced attacker grow strengthless, and decided to help out. Having the best motor coordination among the three of them, he met with Hayato's thrusts effortlessly, and slid away to meet with Gokudera's skin and raw. He could feel his legs trembling, and the patch across his waist was sore, but the pleasure of it all drowned the pain.

"I'm... co-comi-!" The patient's breathless voice gasped, and white liquid spilt into a pink and abused hole, spilling out of the core soon after.

As if it was all a chain reaction, the nurse and the doctor came too, squirting onto the clothes and into the virgin hole respectively, accompanied with grunts of pleasure.

Hayato slid out, aware of the urgency of it all. He rearranged his clothes fairly quickly. He stole a glance at the clock on the wall. Turning back to face the teenagers who are trying to pull out too, he announced with a weak smile on his mouth, "Che. We did it in four minutes. You guys are so easy."

Sitting up and tying his long-gone ponytail, Gokudera snapped tiredly, "Shut up. As if you didn't come within four minutes too."

Hayato opened his mouth and was about to give an intelligent retort, when suddenly another swift puff of smoke appeared. Yamamoto and Gokudera panicked again, as they scrambled to try to put on a decent face before the kid.

Lambo sat on the pillow, and looked around in astonishment. Then, his eyes teared up, and started brawling again, "Lambo-Lambo-san's candies are gone!! Waahh~!!"

"Hush Idiot Cow! If you start crying like this again they will see us!" Gokudera leapt forward to clamp his hand over Lambo's mouth. Yamamoto, too, attempted to calm down the wailing bovine.

A distant voice travelled into the room. "Lambo! Where are you! Urgh, where has he ran off to now? I shouldn't have agreed to bring him to school!"

Another voice came in. "Tsuna-kun, do you hear him crying? I think it's coming from the infirmary."

"I-Pin thinks Lambo's in there too!" It was a cute squeak this time.

A gruff and energetic yell joined in. "THAT LITTLE GUY COULD BE IN THERE TO THE EXTREME!!"


"Anyone who dares wreck havoc in my territory will be bitten to death by me."

"HIIII!!! Hi-Hibari-san! He's just a kid!"

"Stop whining and hurry up go in there to find that stupid cow back, Dame-Tsuna."

What the...??? What is this, a massive search party for one retarded cow? Why is everyone gathered at this time? While the couple were busy trying to accept the weirdness of the situation and coming up with explanations, the group had already ventured into the room.

It took them two weeks to wipe the image of Gokudera in a nurse costume out of their mind, and forever to erase the emotional trauma they suffered. Shamal, who learnt of the incident, burnt the costume immediately.

A/N: Lol, super long title. I apologise.

Oh yeah Gokudera seme for once! Ehheh, I had a great time relieving myself of my perverted fantasies. *gets depressed at corrupted mind* If you're wondering at the random and senseless pairing because Shamal would be a better candidate, it's because I think Shamal's too old (although hot) and it would be disgusting and disturbing to see an old man screwing two kids, worthy of nine continuous weeks of rinsing your eyeballs. Even though Hayato's still a pedophile in this case, at least he's a sexy pedophile, ne? :)

(And just to make things clear I'm against child porn as much as I'm against infanticide and other immoral stuff punishable by spending a day with grumpy Hibari locked up in a room.)

And special thanks to ExplosiveDevice for her advice! (And I recommend her 8059 fics too!)

So, I hope I relieved your perverted fantasies as well, and feel free to leave a review or PM requesting what other costumes you want to see them in, or drop by my profile to cast a vote! Or better yet, suggestions on how I can improve my lemon-writing skills! They may or may not be written depending on how functional my brain gets, but I'll try to write them if I could! They are all greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!! :)