DISCLAIMER: I don't own KHR! (big frigging suprise).


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They've been living together for four years now. He knows it when the idiot is up to something.

The hairs on the back of his neck standing like a wary street cat's, Gokudera jerks his head abruptly to shake Yamamoto's insistent gaping off. When even that doesn't work, the pen he's holding between his thumb and forefinger snaps in a half, red plastic splinters flying in all directions as Hayato's temper reaches at sight blurring speed its breaking point.

"Will you stop fuckin' staring?"

Yamamoto really has got a nerve, to dare blink nonchalantly and play his I-don't-get-where-you're-coming-from-with-that card on him of all people, the Storm muses sourly. Honestly, a man half as smart as Gokudera would have grown to read through their flatmate's facades with no difficulty by now. "Huh, sorry. I wasn't aware I was." The swordsman cocks his head to the side and offers a make-up smile (which works like a charm; yeah, to infuriate Gokudera even more, that is): "It's just, I was thinking something through."

A silver eyebrow shoots up sardonically at the statement. "It's a cold, cold day in Hell today, isn't it?" Takeshi smiles blankly, and it's all the Italian can do not to smash that goofy head on the coffee table to let off some steam. "Leave it. So, what's the big deal?"

"I've come to a conclusion regarding Gokudera's character."

Oh, this now. Ocean green eyes roll in their orbits with supreme annoyance. "Sweet. And what is it? Mind your wording, I'm kind of edgy already."

"Gokudera is a total nerd!"

Fine, so much for thoughtful wording. "Come the fuck again?"

"Of course! I mean, look at you!"

The pianist's face goes from a snow white to a mild pink then to an exaggerated red in mere seconds. Yamamoto's matter-of-fact air sets him off more than the man's usual general idiocy, which really is saying something. "Whatever do you mean by nerd?"

An excited sparkle crosses Takeshi's face like fireworks. The brunette even edges closer to Gokudera in a fit of suicidal boldness. "Just think about it and you'll agree with me in the end."

Scooting over to keep his distance from the insinuating moron he's disgracefully sharing a flat and a couch with, the Vongola's second grabs a carton of cigarettes previously discarded on the coffee table and tears the lid open, all the while casting the Japanese a dangerous look. "I'm afraid you need to explain to me bit by bit, assuming I don't accidentally chop your head off first."

Death threats apparently make for a laughable topic to Yamamoto. "Haha, how could you do something like that accidentally?"

Infuriating son of a…! "I have ways." Gokudera mutters darkly, eyes narrowing to slits as the smoke from his now lit cigarette reaches them and brings stinging tears to their corners. Great, his own comfort sticks are revolting against him. "Just spit it already!"

"Fine, fine." Yamamoto's grin stretches like the infamous Cheshire cat's. "Zero people skills? Check."

"What the hell are you pulling now?"

"You wanted to know why I called you a nerd, so I'm saying." The brunette shifts to sit crosswise on the large cushion and lifts his pinkie to start enumerating. "Nerd feature number one, no people skills." A glint of good-hearted mockery flickers in round amber eyes. "You can't not admit to that."

Gokudera won't admit to that, thank you very much. That or, say, any bullshit that comes out of the baseball freak's mouth. "Like fuck I can't. I have plenty of people skills!" A very meaningful glance from the other is all it takes to have Hayato blush furiously. "I do! You barely count as people anyway, so wipe that fucking smirk off your face!"

"Maa, maa. Whatever you say." As he shakes his head condescendingly, Takeshi's eyes are drawn to the various items scattered across the coffee table. His grin only widens when the sight reinforces his theory. "Nerd feature number two: glasses." The Rain guardian's ring finger shoots up somewhat triumphantly. "Check."

Gokudera follows the direction of the other's gaze with something akin to dread chilling his insides. Feels like a bloody horror movie, when the music rises and you just know something frightening is going to pop out of nowhere and scare you shitless. He never thought the day would come he'd be upset by his own glasses, though. "Please! Those are reading glasses, you jerk. Can't you tell the difference?"

"That just makes for nerd feature number three." The swordsman grins happily as his middle finger rises to join the other two. "Bookworminess: check."

"That's not even a word!"

"Haha, my point exactly."

Yamamoto must be having the freaking time of his life, the bomber muses while sucking nervously on his filter, he's never right about anything. Well, not that he is now. A taut frown creases the Italian's brow at his not-quite faux pas, his teeth grinding hard enough to leave a mark on the burning paper.

Outrageously enough, the baseball nut is not done yet. "And what do we have here?" His chin tilts towards a shiny magazine lying sprawled out next to Hayato's kindahotandtooseldomwore glasses. "Among Us: Close Encounters of the Third Kind." Takeshi can't help the amused chuckle leaving his lips as he reads out loud. "That's so easy it's no fun at all. Sci-fi obsession? Check!"

"Lift one more finger and I bite it off. I'm serious, shithead." Gokudera hisses through gritted teeth, and the Japanese's index curls back prudently.

"Haha, Gokudera's so violent!" The tanned man raises his hands in surrender, but the maddening smile on his lips doesn't fall one bit. "Anyway, that was nerd feature number four. Even if I can't count on my fingers, I have more."

"You think I care for your bullshit? Shut – "

"Big, bright, old style head cuffs." The Rain guardian picks the described item off the table along with the attached I-pod and makes a show of inspecting it from all sides.

What's this, "The Price Is Right"?, Hayato scoffs to himself.

"Nerdish passion for vintage pieces? Check. Nerdish rooting for Apple Corp.? Check. Nerdish love for… what kind of unheard of band is this?"

"It's fucking Joy Division! Don't make it sound like it's some snot-nosed rookies!"

"Subculture, unpopular musical tastes: check!"

"Oh, screw you!" Stabbing the butt of his abused cigarette in the nearby ashtray, the fuming silverette turns to his flatmate with the ferocity of a poisonous adder. "Fine. You wanna do stereotypes, then let's: I don't talk like a nerd, I don't dress like a nerd and I sure as hell don't look like a nerd!"

Yamamoto's expression switches from mild surprise to utter hilarity, then melts into a warm, warm smile that sort of causes Hayato's breath to hitch in his throat. "That's true, you don't." The Rain states neutrally, though the other man couldn't miss his subtle shifting and approaching if he tried. "But, that's what I like about stereotypes – they're all in good fun." Takeshi drawls his words a little, crawling closer and closer till his chin is perched upon Gokudera's shoulder. "Besides, it's not like there's anything wrong with being a nerd."

From such a close distance, the Italian bomber can feel his friend's breath caress his neck with every syllable. A calculated snort conveniently covers the nervous strain in his voice. "I think I'll pass. You start collecting action figures and sprain your wrists playing videogames, since you find it so cool."

Yamamoto laughs gently, causing his flatmate's skin to prickle visibly from the hot puffs of air. "Who's doing stereotypes now?" The tall brunette throws one long leg over the other man's and casually adjusts to fit perfectly against the sharp curve of Gokudera's hipbones, amber eyes drooping slightly as a playful half-smirk arches the Japanese's lips. "Ne, Hayato… you know there's one more nerd stereotype we've yet to defy."

"Hn." Gokudera has to clear his voice twice – twice, for fuck's sake – before he can trust his vocal cords to emit sounds other than feral growls. "And that would be…?"

"Nerds don't get laid!"

The Italian's thigh muscles contract spasmodically under the suddenly heavy weight of Yamamoto's leg draped across his lap. It just fucking figures the baseball sucker wouldn't waste such a golden chance to be a tease. But all the tiptoeing and dancing around each other they've engaged in the past months has started to take its toll, and this, today, is going just that bit too far Gokudera can't take in stride.

His frantic heartbeat the only sound drowning out Takeshi's startled gasp, the Storm guardian closes the gap between them and seizes the Japanese's lips hungrily, hands knotting in the mop of dark hair to keep that moronic head from detaching. He's got a keen feeling that wasn't exactly Yamamoto's intention, though – if the desperate eagerness Takeshi's kiss is filled with is any indication. The brunette grasps at the backrest for leverage and pulls himself up, making sure he's hovering over his smaller partner and leading their liplock with sheer enthusiasm in no time.

When Gokudera all but shoves him off to regain his breath, laughter fills the swordsman's eyes, though softened by such beautiful, childish contentment the tempered bomber can't stay mad for long. "What?" He grunts to dissipate the lingering surprise in the idiot's stare. "Told you nerd life doesn't suit me."

Understanding dawns on Yamamoto's features, then gives way to sudden graveness as Shigure Kintoki's wielder bites his bottom lip in response. "Shame…"

For the longest two point seven seconds of his life, Hayato's heart stops in his chest.

"… reading glasses are a huge turn-on!"

Nerds, Takeshi will have to amend, definitely don't punch like that.


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