An old one I'm bringing over from my Livejournal account, rai_kai_lai

Warnings: A kiss.

Disclaimer: Amano's. Not mine.

Acetone. Cadmium. Butane. Methanol. Ammonia.

A light sigh forced its way from the boys half open mouth as he lay his pen down on the table before shifting his gaze from the notebook in front of him to the various pamphlets and posters covering the entirety of the remaining table surface, forcing his classmate to work on the floor.

Not that his classmate was actually working.

No, instead the silver-haired teenager was leaning against the wall, knees drawn up slightly as he read his book, his glasses threatening to fall from his face as he sucked lightly on the filter end of the cigarette that sat between his lips, the soft fumes of smoke rising and floating out the open window above his head.

Yamamoto sighed again, his gaze flicking from the Italian to the poster that dominated most of the table, its massive title reading "SMOKING: Not our future" in bold white letters at the top of it. Much of the main body of the poster, however, was covered by various other pamphlets, many of them explaining the effects of smoking.

Making a slightly disgusted face at the sight of the image of tar-filled lungs, he picked up his pen and resumed taking notes from the pamphlet about the different poisons that sat next to his notebook, trying his hardest to ignore the smoking presence of his friend, concentrating on the small object – a strong flavoured mint – that was rolling around in his mouth.

It was a Friday afternoon, and they had been sitting in Tsuna's room since they had arrived there after school almost – Yamamoto paused to look up at the clock – two hours ago. They had attempted to work on their Maths homework, but gave up when Lambo had decided to come and 'help them out', which only ended with the five year old getting hurt by Reborn, who had since disappeared with Tsuna, who was downstairs helping his mother with dinner by keeping Lambo and I-Pin out of the way, whilst entertaining Fuuta and keeping Bianchi out of the kitchen.

The baseball player laughed lightly to himself, smiling a little, slightly amazed at how talented Tsuna was when it came to people but how bad it was when it came to school related things.

"What's so funny?"

The brunette looked up from his notes and at his friend, who was staring – er, glaring – back at him, scowling slightly.

"Nothing," Yamamoto said with a light laugh and a smile to match it, watching as Gokudera gave a soft 'tch', the cancer stick still hanging from his mouth, and returned to reading his book, before returning to his own notes.

As he read back over what he had written, he couldn't help but think about why he had chosen to do his health presentation on smoking. As his gaze slowly lifted to his friend, his head still bowed slightly, he began to wonder how the Italian could smoke, even with knowing all the dangers of it, the poisons in cigarettes, and the fact that they were still at middle school.

And Yamamoto knew that Gokudera knew the dangers of smoking. The silver-haired, short-tempered boy had had to explain many of the chemicals listed on some of the more scientific pamphlets to him only a half hour earlier.

He had chosen to do his presentation on smoking with the hope that he could, somehow, convince the bomber to stop smoking altogether. He had heard stories about how hard it was for smokers to quit, but Yamamoto was confident that, together with Tsuna, he'd be able to get the boy off nicotine completely.

But Gokudera wanted none of it even it was for his beloved tenth.

He had proposed the idea to his slightly smaller friend a few weeks ago, in private, and he had ended up spending the next ten minutes dodging dynamite as it was flung at him while he ran across the main courtyard of the school. Gokudera had claimed that he only smoked when he was stressed. Looking at him reading his book, looking so peaceful and at ease, just leaning against the wall and not really caring about anything… He didn't look very stressed at all.

But, you could never tell with Gokudera. It was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking most of the time. He could look happy and cheerful one moment, and then, without warning, could instantly blow up in your face, if he didn't manage to – quite literally – blow it up with his rogue dynamite.

"Ne, Gokudera," Yamamoto said, lifting his gaze to the boy, his tone calm, neither serious nor overly cheerful. No acknowledgement of any sort. "Hayato."

Now that got his attention. It always would. Gokudera was rarely ever called by his first name, except by his sister or by Yamamoto when they were in private and not at someone else's house, especially not Tsuna's.

"What do you want?" He sounded slightly annoyed, Yamamoto noted, though he didn't really care. Gokudera rarely sounded anything but annoyed whenever Tsuna wasn't around. He rarely ever didn't glare, either, so the baseball player just smiled and gave a light laugh when he received an icy glare which seemed to be attempting to stab him with daggers.

"Why do you smoke?"

Gokudera blinked before scowling and giving a light growl, pulling the butt of the cigarette from his mouth and snuffing it out in the ashtray beside him. "I already told you," He said, his annoyed tone refusing to budge as he returned to reading his book. "To help relieve stress."

Yamamoto gave a light smile, and the next time the bomber looked up from his book, he growled and hit the brunette over the head with it, not exactly happy with the close proximity that the taller boy had taken up. He growled when the Rain guardian just laughed and acted as though nothing had happened, though he still kept his spot right in front of the Storm guardian, opting to rest his arms on his friends still bent knees, smiling widely as he continued to receive the trademark glare.

"But it tastes bad," The baseball player gave a soft pout through his smile, though his friends expression didn't budge. If anything, it just deepened. "I hate kissing you when you taste like smoke."

"Then my stress is relieved," Gokudera spoke as if it were the simplest thing in the world, which, to him at least, it was, and attempted to return to reading his book. Attempted being the word used because it's rather difficult to read when there's a hand pushing your knees apart, another hand on the wall beside your head and a pair of lips against your own. Gokudera gave a growl in protest, though made no move to push the bigger boy away, closing his eyes and opening his mouth slightly, both of them relishing the feeling of the rarely made contact briefly before it was lost, the brunette pulling away and returning to his seat by the table as footsteps made their way up the stairs.

Gokudera growled slightly, before growling again as he felt something rolling around in his mouth. He looked towards the door of the bedroom as Tsuna entered, weary-eyed and wearing a forced smiling. The bomber smiled to his Tenth before briefly glaring at Yamamoto and tumbling the mint around his tongue.

The next day found Gokudera leaving the convenience store nearby his house, the addition of a packet of mints in his pockets, one of the bitter sweets already in his mouth, as he shuffled towards the baseball diamond where he had promised to meet up with that damned baseball idiot.