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“Okay so in this triangle,” Gokudera said as he used his pen to point at the figure in Yamamoto’s book. “You use this formula to find the angle — hey, are you listening?” He looked up, a scowl present on his face, only to find Yamamoto frowning at the figure he was pointing at. They’ve been at his place for an hour now, and they were still at second question, and from the look of it, they wouldn’t be getting past it anytime soon. “Oi. Baseball freak,” he said as he poked Yamamoto’s chest with his pen. “Are you there?”
Yamamoto jumped at the mention of his name as he looked up at Gokudera, eyes a bit wide. “Huh? Sorry, you were saying?” He said as he offered him a smile.
Gokudera furrowed his eyebrows and took off his glasses as he observed him; his hair was a bit dishevelled, brown eyes a bit hazy with his eyelids almost drooping, while his shoulders were slouched — he looked dead tired and sleep deprived. And it struck him, Yamamoto just came from baseball practice, and went straight to his place. “You,” he said. “Did you just come from baseball practice? Is that why you look beaten up?” Although, he must say, even when he looked really exhausted, Yamamoto still looked good; not that he’d ever admit that to him, ever. (He’d rather choke than tell him.)
Yamamoto chuckled as he scratched his head. “Was it that obvious?” he asked. “I didn’t want to waste another second so I went here right after practice.”
“Waste another second of what?” Gokudera frowned. “You could’ve told me, idiot.”
“Oh? Is this you getting worried for me?” Yamamoto teased, flashing Gokudera a mischievous smile with his eyebrow raised.
Gokudera could feel his cheeks turn warm at the statement Yamamoto made, which made him scowl and hit him on the shoulder. “No!” He denied as he turned his face back to the book, trying to avoid Yamamoto’s gaze. “It-it-look idiot, you made me explain these for an hour! I’m not worried, I’m just annoyed because I wasted an hour on you!”
“Hmmm,” Yamamoto hummed. He leaned in closer to him as he rested his cheek on his palm, his lips curled up in amusement. “Yes, yes, so why are you suddenly red?”
Ah! Idiot! I’m not that red! “I’m not!” Gokudera defended as he stood up. “It’s because -“ he rushed to the windows and opened them. “It was hot! It was hot, that’s why!” But then, a gust of wind flew in the room, making Gokudera shiver when it hit him directly as he turned and headed back to his seat in front of Yamamoto.
Yamamoto let out another chuckle. “You’re hot in the middle of winter?”
Gokudera glared at him; he had enough of the teasing for the day. Not only did it make him pissed, it also gave him an unexplainable feeling in the gut of his stomach, partnered by the heat that wasn’t leaving his cheeks, which was weird, considering that he could feel his whole body shiver from the cold wind that entered the room, making his hair rustle and move to the front of his face. He cleared his throat. “Are we even going to study? Because if we’re not, then just go home—“
“No!” Yamamoto suddenly exclaimed, which made Gokudera’s eyes widen. “Sorry, I’ll listen this time, please explain it again.” He said as he gave out another smile.
Damn baseball freak and his smile. He mentally slapped himself. Don’t mind it, don’t mind it. Gokudera put on his glasses and turned his attention back to the lesson. But then another gust of wind flew inside, making his silver strands dance in his face, blocking a bit of his vision. He groaned as he shook his face to clear them off. “So, in this question—“ more strands of hair went to his face, and at this point Gokudera decided to ignore them and continue speaking. “In this question, you’ll use this formula to find the angle in the triangle. So here,” he stated as he began to write the solution on Yamamoto’s book. “This right here, use this, and then put that value here, and then compute—“ and then, he froze. Gokudera froze, and felt his cheeks completely melt, when Yamamoto’s finger brushed against his cheek, gathered the strands of hair that were lingering near them, and tucked it behind his ear, making him look up, only to see Yamamoto beaming at him innocently.
“Hmm?” Yamamoto hummed again, eyes warmly welcoming his. “Why?”
Gokudera didn’t speak for a while and only looked at Yamamoto; for once, he couldn’t find anything to say to him. Inside him, a lot was going on, and he was doing his best to ignore all of them — the way his cheeks were probably burning as bright as his storm flames, or the way his pulse suddenly became erratic, or the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of his, getting completely lost in them, or the way his stomach was fluttering at the sight of Yamamoto beaming at him brightly — it’s nothing, maybe I’m just tired.
Funny how one simple gesture made him this way.
“Oi, Gokudera,” Yamamoto said as he waved a hand in front of him, cutting off his trail of thoughts. “Are you okay? You look really red you know!”
But Gokudera didn’t respond, so Yamamoto inched closer to him, his smile never leaving his lips. “Gokudera?”
Gokudera wanted to take a step back and run away from Yamamoto, who was inches near his face; from this distance, one small inch could make a difference, and he couldn’t find himself moving. If he was being honest, he was hesitating to move, hesitating to move his face, hesitating to speak, and hesitating to hold the collar of his shirt. He couldn’t understand it, but he wanted to do it, but at the same time, he was frozen, hence the hesitation.
But, what the mind denies, the body knows.
Which was why, Gokudera’s eyes widened when his hands made their way to Yamamoto’s collar, questioning himself as his eyes moved to Yamamoto’s lips that were curved up in a smile. For some reason he wanted to lean in...and... wait, what?
Yamamoto’s eyes widened too, with his smile growing bigger. “Gokudera?”
Suddenly, Gokudera lost all of his strength, and dropped his hand and turned away from Yamamoto. What was that just now? What was I trying to do? Nevermind, Yamamoto wouldn’t think of it anyway. Besides, he’d just tease me about it, right? Never mind, never mind. Let’s study. He avoided his gaze as he cleared his throat, but Yamamoto wasn’t budging from their position at all.
But Gokudera couldn’t look at him now; possibly because of how hot his face felt, or how dry his throat was, or because Yamamoto was inches near him.
He heard another chuckle from Yamamoto. “Gokudera? Look here?”
He didn’t reply. Hell no.
“I get it Gokudera,” Yamamoto softly said. “So look here?”
Still, he didn’t answer. What do you possibly get, you baseball freak? “Get what?” He demanded, gathering the little bit of strength that he had and turned to look back at Yamamoto.
Yamamoto let out a soft chuckle this time, before he leaned in closer. “I get it, hmm?”
“Get what?”
“This,” Yamamoto said, before he leaned in and closed the distance between them by crashing his lips against Gokudera’s softly and eagerly, while his hands moved the table between them aside, diminishing any sort of distance that was between them, and engulfed him in his arms.
And Gokudera didn’t understand (or maybe he did), but he kissed back, matching Yamamoto’s pace as his hands went to his hair and caressed them.
When Yamamoto broke away from the kiss, both of them were panting. “You see? I told you I get it!” He laughed.
“Shut up, baseball freak.” Gokudera rolled his eyes, before he met his lips again, to which Yamamoto happily obliged, smiling as he kissed him back.
Oh well, looks like the trigonometry lessons could wait.