Work Text:
Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Characters: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Rating: T
Words: 538
Notes: Gokudera hates the rain. #138 for 
8059challenge. :D
“Oi. Is it raining?” Yamamoto asked with a curious expression as he placed his glass of water down on the table. His father, from behind the counter, looked up and greeted the drenched Gokudera with a nod of the head. Gokudera scowled and wiped his face on his sleeve. It was a futile action.
“Obviously, baseball moron. Use your brain for a change.”
Yamamoto laughed. He knew how much Gokudera hated the rain. He got caught in it so often these day on his way home, made it a habit to rush into Yamamoto’s house when he was close enough, and then scowl when the baseball idiot handed him some spare clothes. He would take it, anyway, and it would be too big for him. Then, the two of them would just wait until the weather got better, and Gokudera would take his leave.
“You don’t like rain?”
“I hate it.”
A smile. Yamamoto said, “That’s too bad.”
Gokudera knew he would regret it, but he asked—“Why?”
“They lead to rainstorms… sometimes.”
The Italian rolled his eyes. He knew it would be a dumb answer.
“I like storms.” And he kissed Gokudera on the ear, ignored the yells from him.
He didn’t like the rain because it was too unnatural for him. As a kid, he watched from the huge window in his room as it washed away everything. He didn’t like it because he wanted to hate it. He wanted to go out and do something, but the rain forbid him. He wanted to hate the rain but he couldn’t because it made him feel too calm, liked the feel of cool water falling on his face. Gokudera insisted that he hated the fact that he couldn’t run away from it, and that it always caught up with him.
Just like that baseball nut.
Even though Yamamoto knew that Gokudera ‘hated’ the rain, he liked it too much to compromise to what the Italian wanted. In the midst of a downpour, he would pull Gokudera close and laugh against his neck, kiss the spot under his ear and ask for a little indulgence. A little forgiveness, too, even though he knew Gokudera was lying when he said he hated this.
Gokudera would try to push him away with hands and curses, told him that someone might see them. “We’re on the rooftop; nobody’s going to come here in this weather, haha.”
“Yeah, they’re not idiots. Only a fucking idiot would want to be here… God…” Gokudera would complain, but he would involuntarily follow Yamamoto’s lips and bite down on it. Yamamoto would laugh again, and his hand felt smooth against Gokudera’s skin, under his shirt. His other hand trailed upwards and tucked Gokudera’ wet hair behind his ear.
Yamamoto rocked their hips together, slowly, and smiled when the shorter boy clutched his arms in a tight grip.
“Fucker, hurry up.” A growl against his skin, one that he couldn’t say no to.
”Do you still hate the rain?” Yamamoto asked as he dried Gokudera’s hair off with a towel.
“Yes.” He looked away.
“Hm. I thought the sex would’ve changed that. Haha.”
Gokudera glared at him, his cheeks red, and he shoved the boy away.