A Collection of 8059 Stories!
Should I write another collection? Like a part II or anything?
Comments are appreciated!
They are at a base, away and independent from HQ. The room has a single bed and the two are forced to sleep on it together.
Takeshi is sure that Hayato is the one for him when he can sleep comfortably on a single bed with another person.
Everything is okay because his Hayato is in his arms. There is no rush or no need to be anywhere else in this moment. They only have to be here.
He buries his face into the silvery locks of hair and inhales deeply. The smell invades his nose with a warm and sweet smell. The smell itself is that of vanilla. Takeshi thinks about the wonderful smell Hayato has and how intoxicating it is.
Takeshi pulls the slender frame of his partner closer to his own. He inhales again, drunk from Hayato's scent.
"Pops," Yamamoto's voice is straining not to cry, "I just wanted to say 'thanks'."
The man on the other line laughs and responds, "University's treating you well! Look at you, your 18th birthday, you looked so handsome tonight. I can't believe my baby boy's growing up so fast!"
Yamamoto reclines in his chair and tries to smile. He scratches the back of his head as he responds, "I really appreciated that you came all the way just to have dinner."
Gokudera couldn't bother to have dinner with him.
"Of course, Takeshi!"
But then there was a pause. Yamamoto couldn't answer. "...Takeshi?"
He cringes. Of course his dad caught on. "Yes, pops?"
"Why aren't you hanging out with your friends?"
Why, pops? I told Tsuna and Hibari and Ryohei that I was going to my room hoping that Gokudera would come visit me. He couldn't be bothered.
"No reason, pops. I thought I'd spend some time alone." The now-legal baseball player blinks, trying to clear away tears. He coughs slightly and says, "Dad, I love you."
"Gokudera, I love you!"
"I love you, too, Takeshi." (Answering the statement)
...I know, baseball idiot. (Avoiding the statement)
The line is quiet. Yamamoto senior knows this isn't like his son. But, he doesn't question but instead states slowly, "Takeshi. I love you more than anything. You can have fun with your friends anytime. I love you and happy birthday."
Yamamoto can only nod to his cell-phone. He forces himself to say, "Thank you. Thanks for dinner and I love you. Talk to you later."
He has to hang up before he holds his face in his hands and begins to cry.
Selfish, I turn from him. My back faces the baseball idiot and I can hear him saying:
"Gokudera, please face me... Come on. Please?"
My eyebrow arcs and I ask, "Why should I?"
He's quiet and then he grabs my arm and kisses my hand gently. I still don't look.
He says, "If you look at me, I'll give you a kiss ten times better than that."
Slowly, I relent and look to his face. His usual smile is gone and he looks oh-so-serious.
He frames my face with his hands and his long fingers reach into my hair. He draws me close. His lips meet mine, he presses in and delivers.
The kiss was really ten times better than the last.
I saw him on TV today, playing baseball in the World Series now.
I'm right hand to Tsuna, but what happiness has it brought me?
I have achieved all I wanted from the beginning. That's why it's so painful.
When I see him hit the ball, I swear I can see the big smile on his face.
I want to punch him square in his stupid, dumb, happy smile.
Yamamoto blushes as Gokudera's hand goes to cups his face. He inhales sharply, waiting for the unexpected touches. Gokudera states, "You have an eyelash on your cheek."
Let down some-what, Yamamoto's smile disappears and he says, "Oh, thanks for getting that."
It's always this way though. Gokudera reaches for his hair but only fixes it, saying, "Your hair is always so messy."
One time Gokudera stared at Yamamoto's face for a long period of time and the poor boy thought that, hoped that, wanted that, maybe Gokudera was going to say how handsome his face was. Instead, the teen bluntly said, "You have a booger in your nose."
The baseball player was embarrassed and rushed to the bathroom to check that and other things: was his shirt wrinkly? was his hair messy? were his eyebrows too bushy?
To Yamamoto, it seemed that his boyfriend was always noticing the bad things and trying to correct him.
Poor Yamamoto, he could never get it right.