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Fic: Light it up and fight it out
So, nothing better to do then post a fic that has just been sitting around for awhile. Like, months.
Title: Light it up and fight it out
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: uh... pre-slash Gokudera/Yamamoto.
Notes: Un-beta'd, serious smoking what not.
Summary: Gokudera is a smoker. And that can mean a lot of things.
"Je ne veux pas travailler
Je ne veux pas déjeuner
Je veux seulement oublier
Et puis je fume"
"I don't want to work
I don't want to lunch
I want only to forget
And then I smoke"
- Pink Martini
Gokudera doesn't remember the reason he started smoking. There's enough reasons now so he doesn't bother with the past. What he does remember is realizing for the first time how good it felt. Early morning and cold, still sleepy and walking outside to lean against the door. The sour smoke from last nights job lingers, mixing with the lighters. The cigarettes.
He breaths in, feels dizzy and thinks.
This tastes good.
Gokudera has never found a reason to quit smoking, only reasons to buy cartons and invest in lighter packs. With a kilo of dynamite strapped to his body most of the day, the health hazards never held any weight. It's expensive, but so is quitting. He needs that deep breath in, one that calms nerves and slows his heart rate, buffering the underlying panic and agitation that is his life.
He could also hold the argument that quitting would begin with drinking and that would only end his life sooner.
There's no reason to quit.
Gokudera has never craved smoking more then he has now - now being involved with Yamamoto Takeshi's cool, calm ways and carefree attitude towards the tenth, reborn and the mafia as a whole. Things that he has been working towards and slowly blowing himself up for, piece by piece, Yamamoto is able to accomplice with a grin on his face. Constantly trying to prove himself and just then as he can show his work, hope the Tenth will turn, smile and hope Reborn will see him as part of the group. Then Yamamoto will step in like he was always supposed to be there. It's a game Gokudera feels stuck in, Yamamoto standing on the pitch and all he can hear is. Strike. Strike. Strike.
He's out and Yamamoto is slowly working his way into the Tenths right hand man spot without even trying.
Yamamoto doesn't understand personal boundaries, at least Gokudera has never noticed him being anything but there, close and touching. Over and over again with a pat on the back, an elbow in the side or rubbing shoulders on the way to school. Next to him on the couch, slouching down and spreading his legs open, knees touching . He does the same on the trains, one arm raised holding tight to the bar above Gokudera's head, leaning in and he can smell soap and sweat and feel warm puffs of air next to his ear.
Even when he's quite, Yamamoto can never keep him mouth closed.
The more he's around Yamamoto, the more his palms itch. The closer they get, the bigger the need to be outside. His hand gripping the lighter inside his pocket, waiting to light up. When they touch it feels like its pooling up inside, marking him more and more. To the point that Yamamoto just needs to stand next to him before he starts biting the inside of his cheek and looking for a place to light up. He takes up chain smoking, deep lungs fulls of hot air. It turns into packs a day, a carton a week. Replacing meals with cigarettes and losing weight.
Gokudera has never had anything like this get to him before and doesn't know how to make it stop.
He holds Gokudera's hands as he helps clean and bandage them, his own long, thin fingers with squared ends and short nails. They have nicks in them, from sushi or practice he's not sure, nicer then Gokuera's own discolored from smoking. The scar tissue and dry cracked palms. Ragged finger nails, the one that doesn't grow anymore, suddenly he doesn't want anyone looking at them. Yamamoto lets out a startled "hey!" when he flinches and pulls his hands out of the grip. He says it's the sting from the antiseptic. Yamamoto just reaches his hand out with a strained smile. He gives in and frowns while reaching his hand out, palm up, to finish the job.
The simple care in which his fingers are taped only makes Gokudera grip and flick his lighter over and over and over.
He is worming his way into Gokudera's daily life, taking over and doing a better job. He holds conversations with Biancha, small talk that has never taken place between brother and sister. Its about her cooking, Reborn and her jobs. He's almost jealous, but it doesn't feel so ugly. He talks to Reborn, casually, so easily and earns his approval. Something Gokudera is not sure he will ever accomplish, that even flowing conversation. Its a talent he might admit he's been admiring. He talks with everyone and anyone, the small family the Tenth has built is looking at Yamamoto for answers and he always seems to have them. He asks for help on homework, tests and studying. Saying he has never had better scores until he started to tutor him.
Gokudera knows Yamamoto ranks 2nd in class to him. Who knows what he might do once be starts studying in earnest.
He does start getting used to it, blocking it out. Maybe it's the increase in Nicotine or the self awareness that he can't pit himself against someone who is so completely different. But that stops all together when early one morning while walking to the Tenths house he gets stopped by Yamamoto, who plucks the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, leans in and brushes cracked dry lips against his. He feels a tongue slip along his lips before the cigarette is replaced in his mouth. Not sure why it's happened, but sure of what it is now. Yamamoto licks his lips and smiles, says, "not too bad." Stands next to him, grabs his arm and drags him along. Starts chattering about baseball, training and whatever his days holds.
Gokudera lites up and listens to him ramble on and waits for the head rush from his first breath in.
And starts thinking about investing in gum.
Title: Light it up and fight it out
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: uh... pre-slash Gokudera/Yamamoto.
Notes: Un-beta'd, serious smoking what not.
Summary: Gokudera is a smoker. And that can mean a lot of things.
Je ne veux pas déjeuner
Je veux seulement oublier
Et puis je fume"
"I don't want to work
I don't want to lunch
I want only to forget
And then I smoke"
- Pink Martini
Gokudera doesn't remember the reason he started smoking. There's enough reasons now so he doesn't bother with the past. What he does remember is realizing for the first time how good it felt. Early morning and cold, still sleepy and walking outside to lean against the door. The sour smoke from last nights job lingers, mixing with the lighters. The cigarettes.
He breaths in, feels dizzy and thinks.
This tastes good.
Gokudera has never found a reason to quit smoking, only reasons to buy cartons and invest in lighter packs. With a kilo of dynamite strapped to his body most of the day, the health hazards never held any weight. It's expensive, but so is quitting. He needs that deep breath in, one that calms nerves and slows his heart rate, buffering the underlying panic and agitation that is his life.
He could also hold the argument that quitting would begin with drinking and that would only end his life sooner.
There's no reason to quit.
Gokudera has never craved smoking more then he has now - now being involved with Yamamoto Takeshi's cool, calm ways and carefree attitude towards the tenth, reborn and the mafia as a whole. Things that he has been working towards and slowly blowing himself up for, piece by piece, Yamamoto is able to accomplice with a grin on his face. Constantly trying to prove himself and just then as he can show his work, hope the Tenth will turn, smile and hope Reborn will see him as part of the group. Then Yamamoto will step in like he was always supposed to be there. It's a game Gokudera feels stuck in, Yamamoto standing on the pitch and all he can hear is. Strike. Strike. Strike.
He's out and Yamamoto is slowly working his way into the Tenths right hand man spot without even trying.
Yamamoto doesn't understand personal boundaries, at least Gokudera has never noticed him being anything but there, close and touching. Over and over again with a pat on the back, an elbow in the side or rubbing shoulders on the way to school. Next to him on the couch, slouching down and spreading his legs open, knees touching . He does the same on the trains, one arm raised holding tight to the bar above Gokudera's head, leaning in and he can smell soap and sweat and feel warm puffs of air next to his ear.
Even when he's quite, Yamamoto can never keep him mouth closed.
The more he's around Yamamoto, the more his palms itch. The closer they get, the bigger the need to be outside. His hand gripping the lighter inside his pocket, waiting to light up. When they touch it feels like its pooling up inside, marking him more and more. To the point that Yamamoto just needs to stand next to him before he starts biting the inside of his cheek and looking for a place to light up. He takes up chain smoking, deep lungs fulls of hot air. It turns into packs a day, a carton a week. Replacing meals with cigarettes and losing weight.
Gokudera has never had anything like this get to him before and doesn't know how to make it stop.
He holds Gokudera's hands as he helps clean and bandage them, his own long, thin fingers with squared ends and short nails. They have nicks in them, from sushi or practice he's not sure, nicer then Gokuera's own discolored from smoking. The scar tissue and dry cracked palms. Ragged finger nails, the one that doesn't grow anymore, suddenly he doesn't want anyone looking at them. Yamamoto lets out a startled "hey!" when he flinches and pulls his hands out of the grip. He says it's the sting from the antiseptic. Yamamoto just reaches his hand out with a strained smile. He gives in and frowns while reaching his hand out, palm up, to finish the job.
The simple care in which his fingers are taped only makes Gokudera grip and flick his lighter over and over and over.
He is worming his way into Gokudera's daily life, taking over and doing a better job. He holds conversations with Biancha, small talk that has never taken place between brother and sister. Its about her cooking, Reborn and her jobs. He's almost jealous, but it doesn't feel so ugly. He talks to Reborn, casually, so easily and earns his approval. Something Gokudera is not sure he will ever accomplish, that even flowing conversation. Its a talent he might admit he's been admiring. He talks with everyone and anyone, the small family the Tenth has built is looking at Yamamoto for answers and he always seems to have them. He asks for help on homework, tests and studying. Saying he has never had better scores until he started to tutor him.
Gokudera knows Yamamoto ranks 2nd in class to him. Who knows what he might do once be starts studying in earnest.
He does start getting used to it, blocking it out. Maybe it's the increase in Nicotine or the self awareness that he can't pit himself against someone who is so completely different. But that stops all together when early one morning while walking to the Tenths house he gets stopped by Yamamoto, who plucks the unlit cigarette out of his mouth, leans in and brushes cracked dry lips against his. He feels a tongue slip along his lips before the cigarette is replaced in his mouth. Not sure why it's happened, but sure of what it is now. Yamamoto licks his lips and smiles, says, "not too bad." Stands next to him, grabs his arm and drags him along. Starts chattering about baseball, training and whatever his days holds.
Gokudera lites up and listens to him ramble on and waits for the head rush from his first breath in.
And starts thinking about investing in gum.
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And this is awesome. You showed how smoking is almost a sanctuary to him. And love his thoughts on Yamamoto's abilities; acknowledgement without spite. And that darling Yamamoto. ♥
Very well written. Thank you for sharing! :)
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Thank you so much for your awesome comment! acknowledgment without spite Yes, yes, this is so what i wanted to get across and I'm glad it did!
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well writting! =D
kissus
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I liked seeing how you describe Gokudera's view on Yamamoto :)
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And thank you so much, i kept rewording it over and over again and I'm glad it worked so well.