Friday, May 23, 2014

A Gokudera/Yamamoto Lemon -- Red Like Reluctance

Character: Gokudera / Yamamoto

Fandom: Katekyo HItman Reborn! [TYL]

OC: --

Inspiration: It's Valentine's Day and Gokudera is being stubborn~  I started writing this in February, but Yaoi's hard for me to write so that's why it took me so long |D  I'm not a huge Yaoi fan but I ship these two so freaking hard~

Perhaps Yamamoto should have known it would turn out like this.  Gokudera is not romantic or soft or gentle.  He is the most stubborn man Takeshi knows.  It would only make sense that he would totally ignore the holiday of love.  But it still makes him a little annoyed.  Annoyed enough to go find his stubborn lover and force him to acknowledge the day.
Gokudera is in his office pouring over mission reports (neatly stacked, organized, and color coded).  His glasses are slipping down his nose but he's too engrossed in finishing his current report to fix them.  In fact, he's so preoccupied that he barely even notices his door opening and the newfound fact that he isn't alone anymore.  But even though he's good at ignoring things in general, when it comes to his lover Gokudera is annoyingly transparent.
"You're still working," comes the dry voice of Yamamoto.  Silence, and then, "Trying to," comes the sharp reply as Gokudera tries to make it clear that he doesn't want to be interrupted.  The warning is either completely ignored or just goes right over Yamamoto's head (it's hard to tell sometimes), and Yamamoto chuckles that dry chuckle and steps forward, closing the door.
"It's February 14th you know."  Yamamoto sighs out and loosens his tie, blinking down at his adamantly working lover.  He tries again.  "I came down to tell you to answer your phone.  I called you three time already.  Dinner's been ready for ages."  It's probably cold by now, he wants to say, but he doesn't because he can see how Gokudera is sitting so stiffly and knows that he's probably getting angry.  He decides to wait it out.
"Oh," comes the short, curt reply.  Gokudera pushes his glasses up his nose and the sight would be endearing, if Yamamoto was in the mood for it.  But though his patience is normally boundless, especially when it came to his lover, tonight it is wearing thin.  "Oh," he agrees, stepping forward.  This time, Gokudera looks up at him with a scowl.
"I'll be up when I'm finished with my work, Takeshi.  It's a bit more important than some stupid mushy holiday."  But he could see from the way Yamamoto was standing, right in front of his desk, all stubborn like, that his answer would simply not suffice.  Not tonight.  Not on February 14th, day of love and unusually kinky sex, or so he'd heard from Dr. Shamal.
"Do you even want to know what I planned for today?" Yamamoto asks, faux surprise coating his eyes.  He is not surprised and both of them know it, but there seems to be some sort of game he's playing and damn if Gokudera falls for it.  He glowers, "I don't care.  I'm busy."  But the mention of Yamamoto and all his planning does peak his interest just the smallest bit.
His lover smiles that idiotic smile, but there is something dwelling just below the surface of it.  Something dark and delicious and unusually kinky, and it makes Gokudera a little curious, but just a little.  He watches Yamamoto walk over to the other side of the desk, slide onto the surface of it, and prod his swivel chair around to face him.  Then, amid the spluttering indignancies that are leaving Gokudera's lips (he's wrinkling his paperwork!) Yamamoto reaches down, slips his fingers around Gokudera's tie, and jerks him closer.  The complaints die.
There is a whisper of space between them.  Their mouths are barely brushing each other and the proximity has Gokudera's heartbeat escalating.  He's about to demand to know why Yamamoto hasn't fucking kissed him yet when his answer unduly arrives in the form of a shiver-inducing sentence, dragged over arching lips that are clearly struggling with the same desire to close the distance between them.  Yamamoto whispers, "You're not busy.  You're just stalling cause for some reason, you hate this holiday.  But Hayato, I intend to change that."
Gokudera can be surprisingly efficient in holding back his emotions.  He stops a shiver from ruining that image and sneers.  Yamamoto glances down at the twist of his mouth and then darts his eyes back up to his.  Then he smirks an unusually kinky smirk and leans in ever closer, pressing his lips just against Gokudera's and murmuring a low, husky, "You don't believe me?  Then maybe it's time to stop talking so I can start convincing you."  It is the single best suggestion Gokudera has heard all day.
"Che.  You can try," Gokudera mutters, then jerks his tie out of his lover's hold and leans back in his chair, stubbornly blinking up to see Yamamoto's reaction.  It is only interest, curiosity, excitement.  It washes over those eyes like waves and crashes against his heart like anticipation. 
Yamamoto had expected this stubbornness.  But that doesn't mean he has little idea as to how to counter it.  He chuckles and leans back on the desk, shifting his hips teasingly and wrinkling the paperwork even more.  The action has Gokudera's eyes firing up in anger, but that is all part of the plan too.  And then Yamamoto casually flicks a number of pens, spare paper, a folders onto the floor, and he knows that Gokudera has become sufficiently furious.
"What are you doing?" Gokudera growls, knuckles white and unyielding as he clutches the arm rest of his chair.  But Yamamoto only looks at him in mock surprise and says lightly, his voice almost a purr, "Making room for us."  And though his words have Gokudera feeling just a little excited, he mostly feels annoyed.  "No," he says, gritting his teeth as he watches another pen fall.  He swallows back a harsh wave of fury and says, "There's no way in hell I'm letting you fuck me over my desk.  Fuck -- do you even know how long it took me to organize all that shit?"  When Yamamoto only shrugs and doesn't stop, Gokudera growls again and pushes out of his chair, grabbing his lover's wrist and unknowingly falling directly into the trap laid out for him.
They're both fighters.  Men who play with the law and know how to do it properly.  So it's understandable that Yamamoto's got a few tricks up his sleeve.  But Gokudera certainly doesn't appreciate it when his lover twists out of his grasp and pulls a semi-complicated move that shifts their positions around and forces Gokudera's chest against all those pitifully wrinkled papers.  In fact, it makes him so annoyed that he growls out a, "Yamamoto, I swear to fucking God if you don't let me up right now I'll -- "
"Yamamoto?" his lover asks with a raised brow.  Gokudera tries to push himself back up, but the Japanese man just pushes him down again.  His hand clenches into Hayato's dress shirt as he struggles to keep his wild lover at bay.  A chuckle drifts past Takeshi's lips, "You must be pretty angry if you're using my last name."  He casually pushes Hayato's legs apart and leans his thigh against his lover's ass.  There is a slight hardness that Takeshi can just barely detect in his current position, but it makes him ridiculously excited.
Hayato presses his forehead against his desk and mutters something dark, something too low for his lover to hear.  Then he grumbles louder, "Che.  You're being kinkier than usual tonight."  Gokudera will not admit that he sort of likes this, being forced into this position.  The fact that he can feel Yamamoto's growing erection pressed up against his ass only makes it that much better.  The fabric of their dress trousers doesn't allow for a whole lot of protection in this regard.
Takeshi hums.  The edges of his mouth have twisted into dark, serious desire.  He can tell that Gokudera's anger is slowly draining away.  (How he knows this, he couldn't say.)  Carefully, he lets his grip on the back of Gokudera's shirt loosen.  He's pleased when Hayato pushes himself up onto his forearms and peers around his shoulder at him, not trying to get up.  The olive green of Hayato's eyes flash when they meet Takeshi's.  It's probably because, whenever Hayato sees that nonchalant desire set against the brown tones of Takeshi's gaze, he feels his body turn to ash and start blowing away.
Takeshi moves to trace along the hem of Hayato's trousers.  He slowly starts to pull out the tucked in shirt.  "Didn't I tell you that I had lots of things planned for tonight?"  His voice is casual, lazy even, but there is a wicked edge to it that strikes through his words like weights.  Hayato shifts a little, 'accidentally' rubbing against that delicious bulge in his lover's pants, and Yamamoto has to close his eyes for a brief moment in order to reign in all his desires.  It's more difficult than he'd like to admit.
Gokudera scoffs.  His voice is muffled against wood and it sounds erotic to Takeshi's ears.  He mutters, "Hurry up and do it already.  I have three more missions to file before midnight."  But even though his gruff prompting sounds annoyed, Yamamoto isn't convinced.  He's been with Hayato enough times to distinguish when the slight tremor in that voice is born from eagerness and not fury.  He chuckles a little and hooks his fingers around the front of Hayato's hips, fiddling with the zipper of his trousers. 
"Maa, maa," he laughs, "so impatient.  And you're already pretty hard, too."  He smirks when Hayato stiffens just a little bit, probably from embarrassment.  "Just get it over with already," comes the muffled, brusque reply.  But before Takeshi pulls back, he can't resist the urge to roll his fingers against the thin fabric of Hayato's boxers.  He's more than just a little hard by now, and it makes the both of them shiver delightfully.  It gets much better though, when Takeshi pulls back and peels away both layers of clothing.  He tugs them to the ground and watches Hayato steps out of them, shaking that ass just a little. 
Yamamoto swallows back a thick, hazy wave of desire and chuckles.  His fingers drift to his own trousers as he says lightly, "'S okay.  I'm pretty hard too.  Should I show you?"  And the end of his sentence is full of meticulous quivers, the kind that makes a person feel like they're shaking right into the earth.  Hayato feels those shivers a moment later, when Takeshi kicks off his pants and presses his stiff length against the curve of his lover's rear.  Hayato's lower back arches just a tiny bit, like his body is reacting without his consent.  Takeshi chuckles, and can almost hear the embarrassed scowl the is no doubt strewn against his lover's face.
Yamamoto's hips rock forward.  His hands push up the dress shirt that is still splayed against Gokudera's upper half.  Then he asks in a hasty voice devoid of that patience, "Where's the lube?"  One hand curls around Hayato's hips to touch his lover's erection.  It's no surprise, then, when Gokudera's answer comes out breathless and hurried.  "Middle drawer…left…"  And there's a moment of scrambling as Takeshi leans over, pulls out the drawer, and fishes around for the bottle.  All the while pumping his lover's erection and watching the visible muscles of Hayato's back strain and pull from the pleasure.
Yamamoto's hand draws back to uncap the bottle.  He pours a bit of the cold liquid onto his fingers and rubs heat into it.  Then, with the seasoned movements of a person well acquainted with another's body, Takeshi nudges his lover's legs further apart and slips his fingers over his hole.  The shuddering arch that immediately pulls at Hayato's spine has fiery desire ripping through Takeshi.
"F-fuck, that's cold," Gokudera growls.  He swivels his head around to send his lover a glare.  Takeshi's responding smile, careless but serious, has Hayato clenching his fingers around the edge of the desk and swallowing hard.  When he feels his lover's finger inch into him none too gently, his eyes slip closed and he pushes his weight onto his elbows.  "Tch!  At least be gentle, moron!" he angrily says, his voice like sandpaper and lust.  But it's all for show, Takeshi knows it is, and it makes him smile darkly and add another finger.  As he slowly begins to stretch his lover, Takeshi lightly murmurs, "I'll be gentle when I put it in."  Like it's some sort of negotiation or something.
Gokudera would like to argue (very much so) but his words die as soon as they are born.  It takes too much effort to speak.  He can't concentrate when Takeshi's playing with him like that, rolling his fingers into his ass, spreading his butt and rubbing his cock against his thigh teasingly.  So he only huffs, tries to pretend as though the stiffness of his back is due from fury and not ferocious desire.  He doesn't care if he fools anyone though, which is good because he doesn't, at all.
Apparently, talking doesn't take nearly as much effort for Yamamoto.  "You know…I don't think we've ever done it like this before."  Which is crazy, because it happens to be a position that they've both daydreamed about countless times.  When Takeshi voices this, Gokudera scoffs and mutters, "Idiot."  He'd say more but…well, Takeshi's fingers aren't exactly idle.
"Would you hurry up?" Hayato says instead, clenching his teeth against the brusque pleasure.  Takeshi chuckles and peers down at his lover, smiling that idiot-serious smile that always makes Gokudera shiver with inexplicable emotion.  Another chuckle, and, "Sure, sure.  Just wait a sec."  Gokudera would like to tell him that he's been waiting for ages, but instead he only makes a displeased noise and glances behind his shoulder to see exactly why Takeshi is telling him to wait.  The moment his eyes lock only the scene taking place behind him, he wishes he hadn't looked at all.
Takeshi's rubbing lube over his cock.  It's not like Gokudera has never seen him do it before, but for some reason it feels more intense tonight.  Perhaps it's because he has to stretch his neck painfully to see it.  Perhaps it's because they aren't on a bed, facing each other, breathing in the other's breath and making love in a more conventional-while-not-being-conventional-at-all way.  Perhaps there's a lot of reasons, but regardless of each and every one of them, it feels different and that makes Gokudera feel a fuzzy sort of pleasure dribble through him like slowly falling rain.
Takeshi's lips curl into a crooked grin.  His eyes are bolts of semi-serious, semi-amused brown, and they make the rest of his expression into some erotic, impish mystery.  It's unsettling to watch that mouth and those eyes, so instead Hayato focuses on Takeshi's hand and the way he's stroking the lube over his shaft.  After a moment of them watching each other, Takeshi murmurs all low, "Like what you see, Hayato?"  And the use of Gokudera's first name, while not at all uncommon at this point, makes the Italian clench his fist and swallow back a harsh and overpowering wave of twisted desire.
"Fuck," he mutters to himself, and closes his eyes briefly before tearing them open again.  He meets his lover's eyes brashly, callously, and says in a strained voice, "Fuck, yeah, I do Takeshi."  The Japanese name rolls off his tongue without his own consent, like foreign drops of a smooth, smooth liquor, but it creates an effect in his lover that makes the slip worth it.  And the sight of Yamamoto, that baseball idiot, closing his eyes and shivering violently and making that little moaning sound…well, it's all fucking worth it.
After a moment, Takeshi chuckles breathlessly.  There's a tautness in that voice and those eyes that hadn't been there before, and it sets Gokudera on edge in the most brilliant of ways.  And all at once Gokudera knows, just knows that there is no way they're waiting another minute, and he watches with dark olive eyes as his lover spreads his ass and presses his hard length up against his skin.  Their eyes meet over Hayato's slender shoulder and fuck if Takeshi's expression doesn't make him utterly, immensely, deliriously insane.
"Ready?" Yamamoto grunts, but it's more of a warning than an actual question.  Gokudera makes a noise and presses his face against the wood, shivering when he feels the tip of his lover's cock brushing over his hole.  And then he feels the cock push inside, slowly, gently, but it still makes discomfort flourish through his body.  He tries his best to relax, and after a minute or two goes by, the discomfort begins to fade away and Takeshi starts to slowly, gently thrust.
First, there's an untethered amount of pain and it's blinding.  But Takeshi is slow and steady, and soaks up his lover's trembles as best he can even as Gokudera painfully clenches around his length and makes it difficult.  Yamamoto shifts a hand to Gokudera's lower back and softly draws circles into his skin.  After a few moments, that hand snakes around his waist to seek a more intimate touch.  When Takeshi's calloused fingers curl around Gokudera's stiff member, the pain of their coupling is ripped from them like a bandage over skin, and Hayato immediately moans and arches back, yearning to feel more.
It is a sight that Takeshi won't easily forget.  He swallows hard and pumps his lover's cock through his fingers, which are still oily from the lube.  His other hand grounds Hayato's hips, steadies his thrusts, clenches against his skin.  And Yamamoto wishes he could see that face, that doleful, brain dead, lustful expression he knows is coating those olive eyes.  But there will be plenty of time for that later, at least if he's got anything to say about it.
"A-ah…" he tips his head back with a sigh.  His hips snap forward and back like they've got a mind of their own, and Gokudera is pressing his pleased whimpers into the wood of the desk.  But Yamamoto can still hear them and they still make him feel like he's going to explode.  This naturally erotic, sinful, wicked atmosphere is all but tumbling over them like a thinly twisting vine, and Takeshi hurtles ever faster, ever deeper.  It is a phenomenal feeling.
Yamamoto's hand comes down hard on the desk near Gokudera's head.  Then he's leaning forward, moving his hips harder, letting out short little breathy moans with every stark, raw thrust.  And he knows he's being rough but it only makes Gokudera that much more excited, because he likes when it's rough and heady and anxiously bitter.  And it's no surprise that Hayato goes crazy when those hips slam against his, pushing them almost up into the air with their force.  It's no surprise but it is a lovely sight, the way Hayato peers just a little over his shoulder in thankful, erotic passion.  Yamamoto really can't help but bring his free hand over to clasp his lover's, and their fingers intertwine like rope knotted at the center of some great net.  The tiny shard of that comforting, loving touch makes the rough, heady moment sweeter.  Like minty, sugary iced tea on a bitterly hot summer day.
Their bodies are low, nearly touching but not quite.  The gap of space between them cannot be attained while Yamamoto is still nestled inside him.  But those blank, empty inches are not all that empty.  They are filled with heat and panting breaths and gasping bodies and thundering muscles.  And while Yamamoto cannot lean down and kiss his lover's flesh, he can kiss the air that thickly waves between them, kiss the scent of their coupling as it wafts delightfully through the room, kiss the caustic emotions that pour into that little gap of space and yearn from complete and total togetherness.
And that is what he does, even as their ends race faster and faster, even as Gokudera curses heavily and tilts his head back and bucks his hips into Yamamoto's hand and against his cock.  Takeshi lets out the most luxuriously beautiful moan and it invades the inches of space and makes those inches alive with his love.  And he breathes out loudly in tight little pants and rams his hips harder, rougher, with such force that there's bound to be bruises all over Hayato's hips.  But neither of them care of even think twice about something so meaningless, because they're too busy being lost in each other. 
"Ha-Hayato!" Takeshi gasps.  He swears he sees stars spinning round and round his vision, like the cosmos is angrily weaving him a fortune.  And he can't control his body anymore, not his hips or his hands.  They both have minds of their own, like they're possessed by some explicable power which seeks only pleasure.  His hand jerks over Gokudera's cock, which is already dripping with come.  His thumb brushes over the tip of it and it's like that simple little move is what Gokudera has been waiting for.  He groans and shakes his hips faster, feeling himself spilling over those familiar, calloused fingers which continue to pump him to his absolute end.  And what an end it is.
He feels Yamamoto's hot sticky finish plaster him inside and out, leaking down his thighs and making him warm and cool at the same time.  For a very long moment, neither of them move.  They are too busy calculating the effects of their lovemaking, the way it has made their bodies crazed with passion, the way it has gone to their heads.  Then, after what feels like years, Gokudera grumbles a short, gravelly, "Pull it out."  And Yamamoto chuckles, probably because of the brash words, but doesn't argue.  He slides out of Gokudera easily, then watches his lover struggle into a standing position.  At the last moment, though, Gokudera stumbles slightly, and Yamamoto's arms rush to pull him to his chest.  His grumpy lover is surprisingly okay with this, being pressed up against Yamamoto, their naked bodies flush and warm.  It makes Yamamoto smile.  That smile only widens when Gokudera mutters something unintelligible about the mess of wrinkles papers on the floor. 
But the mess is worth it.  It is a sentiment that they happen to share, and even as Gokudera pulls away and starts collecting the fallen pens and paperclips and folders, he doesn't seem to be particularly angry about it.  Not like he'd been before, at least.  The gleam of anger in his gaze is just for show.  Yamamoto knows it and so does Gokudera, but the Japanese man lets him get away with it because the sight of him naked, crouching to the floor, cleaning up is oddly delicious.  Perhaps is the post orgasmic bliss speaking, but Yamamoto sort of wants to push the Italian onto his back, press their skin into the cold cold floor and start all over again.
But dinner's probably frozen by now and while taking Gokudera on the floor would undoubtedly be highly satisfying, it's not unusually kinky enough for a night like tonight.  No, he's got other plans that will fall into that category.  Other plans that he's sure Gokudera won't mind acting out.
The Italian seems to notice the glint of his love's gaze, the way it's cutting right through the thick atmosphere and making him starving for more physical touch.  He rocks back onto his heels, a fistful of papers clenched in both hands, and grumbles, "I've still got work, you know."  But that's just for show too, that reluctance, the grudging reminder.  Yamamoto can see that his lover has no inclination to start working now.  Not after being shoved against his own desk and fucked in such a raw and passionate manner.  But Takeshi doesn't let him get away with this one.  Not this time.
He chuckles and steps forward, around the desk.  Then he gently pulls Hayato to his feet, takes the paperwork from his hands, and lays it flat onto the desk.  When he turns back, the silver haired hit man is staring up at him from beneath long lashes, his olive eyes sparkling with anticipation and lust.  And the sight of it turns Takeshi on faster than ever.
"Tsuna won't be upset if it takes you an extra day to turn it all in," Yamamoto murmurs, stepping closer.  Every word is like a weighted promise, extending from the syllables to the breathless end.  And Gokudera's leaning into Takeshi's arms without even realizing it.
Just before their lips touch, Gokudera decides that really, Valentine's Day isn’t so awful.  Neither, he thinks, is having unusually kinky sex with the only man capable of making his heart hot and cold at the same time.


A/N: So…what did you think about my first Yaoi lemon?  :3  Also, let me know if there are any other Yaoi pairings you'd like to see and I'll consider writing some more this summer!


  1. Its pretty good; especially if you don't really write yaoi's.

  2. Mello x Near (Death Note). I'm not a yaoi fan either, but those two got me.

  3. Kaneki x Hide (Tokyo Ghoul)!! THOSE TWO ARE MADE FOR EACH OTHER!

  4. Jesus take the wheel. This was beautiful.