Title: Off-Label Use
Pairing: Yamamoto/Gokudera
Summary: Flames can be good for more than just fighting.
Notes: Adult for smut. For KHRfest, prompt I-44: Gokudera/Yamamoto – rain flames; Gokudera needs to relax. 1874 words.

Off-Label Use

Hayato hated the world and everything in it. He said as much when the day from hell had finally come to a close and he was finally able to strip out of his jacket and tie and collapse across the bed.

"The world and everything in it?" Takeshi echoed, following after him. Hayato couldn't see him through the arm he'd draped across his eyes, but he sounded unconvinced.

"Everything," Hayato repeated. "Especially the stinking, lying, cheating, fucking Pozzo Nero." The Tenth wasn't that kind of boss, but just this once Hayato wished, half-guiltily, that he was and would have listened to Hayato when he'd suggested they unleash Xanxus and point him in the direction of the Pozzo Nero.

"Mm." Takeshi still didn't sound convinced as the bed dipped under his weight. "They are pretty obnoxious, I guess."

Hayato shifted his arm just enough to glare at Takeshi's easy smile. "They're fucking menaces."

Takeshi's smile didn't budge. "We caught on to what they were doing before they could do any harm." He reached over and ran his fingers along Hayato's jaw. "No harm done at the end of the day."

"But there could have been!" Everyone expected the other Families to try to disrupt the Vongola's work, that was a given, but they were supposed to be able to thwart those attempts before they even got off the ground, not in the nick of time at the negotiating table.

"But we stopped it in time. Chrome saw right through them, remember?" Takeshi's fingers were warm along his jaw, rubbing back and forth along it like Takeshi thought he was some kind of cat.

Hayato growled at him, because Chrome had seen through the Pozzo Nero's godforsaken Mist user, but he'd been just as taken in as the rest of Tsuna's Guardians. Fuck.

"Hey." The mattress creaked a bit as Takeshi leaned over him, pushing Hayato's arm away from his face and peering down at him. His eyes were so gentle that they cut like a knife. "It's okay. We figured it out. Tsuna's safe and the Pozzo Nero went away with their tails between their legs. That's the important part, right?"

Hayato looked away from him. "I guess."

He felt Takeshi's sigh rather than heard it as warm breath brushed across his skin. "You're thinking about this too hard."

That was an offer, if he wanted to take it. Hayato weighed it against the last bits of his temper, relying on the parts of him that were still capable of being logical—fuck, why not? "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Takeshi immediately started undoing Hayato's shirt.

"Why do all your solutions involve getting me naked?" He'd meant for the question to be sharp, but it didn't quite come out that way as Takeshi's fingertips brushed against his chest.

It didn't slow Takeshi's fingers down at all, either. He just grinned, fingers nimble as they sped down Hayato's buttons. "That's because all my solutions are awesome."

"Keep telling yourself that," Hayato muttered as Takeshi went for his belt and then his fly.

"Have some faith." Takeshi sat up and gesture. "Okay, clothes off."

"What, you're not even going to buy me dinner first?" Hayato sat up anyway, shrugging out of his shirt and shimmying out of his slacks as Takeshi peeled his own clothes off.

"If you wanted dinner, you should have said so sooner." Takeshi circled his fingers in the air. "Okay, lie down on your stomach for me." Hayato gave him a look and Takeshi softened the command with a smile and a "Please? Trust me?"

"Most people would at least try making out a little before getting down to the fucking," Hayato grumbled, pulling down the blankets and stretching out. He rested his chin on his folded arms, listening to the sounds of Takeshi rummaging around in the drawer of the nightstand.

"You jump to conclusions way too easily sometimes, you know that?" Takeshi climbed back onto the bed with him and knelt over him, straddling Hayato's hips and settling there, his weight warm against Hayato's ass. "Who said that's what we were getting down to?"

"Naked?" Hayato reminded him. Then something cool splashed against his shoulder blades and began trickling down his spine. "What the—"

"There's more things you can do when you're naked than have sex." Takeshi set his hands against Hayato's shoulders and stroked them down his back, slow and firm and—slick, yes, with oil, he guessed. He ran his hands back up Hayato's spine and made a distressed sound. "No wonder you're so cranky. Your back is full of knots."

"Cranky?" Hayato was fully prepared to be indignant about that—he was a grown man, he didn't do cranky—but Takeshi's fingers pressed against the nape of his neck, stroking circles there, and his outrage got lost in the gasp as that slow pressure made the muscles there creak. "Jesus."

"Seriously, your back is a mess." Takeshi's hands dragged over his shoulders, warm and slick, kneading slowly. "This explains so much about you, you have no idea."

"Fuck you very much." Hayato groaned as Takeshi's fingers dug into his shoulders, working his back slowly. Christ, that felt good.

"No, I mean—damn, Hayato, remind me to have someone check you for ulcers. This much stress can't possibly be healthy." Takeshi's hands kept working as he talked, slow and sure and strong despite the teasing and the genuine note of—distress? Hayato thought—that was lurking beneath it. "You get like this every time things get sticky?"

"How the hell should I know?" Hayato tucked his forehead against his arms, grunting as Takeshi's fingers probed deeper.

"Mm." Takeshi dragged his hands down Hayato's spine again and back up again. "I think this is going to take the big guns."

Hayato opened his eyes and tried to peer over his shoulder. "What the fuck does that mean?" he began, but Takeshi's hands turned warmer as they pushed against his back. Hayato groaned as the muscles beneath that pressure relaxed all at once. "Fuck...!"

"That's better." Takeshi sounded supremely satisfied.

Hayato couldn't quite care, resting his forehead against his arms and panting as Takeshi's hands smoothed over his back, preternaturally warm, and his muscles practically melted under them. It took him a stupidly long time to be able to gasp, "Are you using your fucking Flame on me?"

"Works really well, doesn't it?"

Takeshi sound so pleased with himself that Hayato would have punched him for it, if only he hadn't been in the process of turning into a mostly-limp puddle on the bed. "You asshole."

"Love you too." Takeshi spread his hands on either side of Hayato's spine and moved them up and down his back in lazy sweeps.

Each pass of his hands dragged a groan out of Hayato, both from the way his muscles felt like they were glowing with relief and with the way heat was curling low in his belly. Takeshi kept going till Hayato was nearly squirming under him, trying to find some relief from the weight that kept his hips pinned to the bed, trapping his cock against the sheets. "Seriously, you are such an asshole."

"You keep telling me that, yeah." Takeshi's hands left his back and his weight shifted from its place over Hayato's hips. "Guess that goes with the whole hating the world and everything in it thing, huh?"

Hayato only half-heard him, being more preoccupied with the chance to lift his hips and ease the pressure on his cock. "Yeah, well, I—oh, fuck." Takeshi's fingers were stroking against his entrance, slick and still hot with Flame, opening him up in one easy push. Hayato fisted his hands in the sheets, gasping as long fingers moved inside him, deliberately slow. "Fuck!"

Takeshi's chuckle was breathless. "Yeah, okay." His fingers slid out of Hayato with a twist that made stars flash across his vision. He drew Hayato's hips up, nudging his knees wide against the mattress, and held Hayato that way as he pushed into him in one long thrust that left Hayato groaning against the sheet with the way pleasure climbed up his spine. Or maybe it was how Takeshi held him, hands casually strong on Hayato's hips, holding them up at just the right angle to be fucked.

Either way, he sprawled against the sheets, fingers flexing against the sheets, and groaned breathlessly as Takeshi's cock slid in and out of him. Each thrust drew pleasure up Hayato's spine, building fast, till he could feel himself drawing taut against the pressure of it and gasped Takeshi's name, half in warning and half in something else. Takeshi murmured something indistinct to him and slid a hand under him.

Hayato cried out as Takeshi's long fingers curled around him, still slick with oil and warm with his Flame, at the way they took away the mounting need and replaced it with something languorous and deep and not at all urgent. "Fuck, Takeshi..."

"Good?" Takeshi's voice was husky as his fingers stroked up and down Hayato's cock, easing him into a place where pleasure wound through him, building and redoubling on itself, meandering and unhurried.

Hayato groaned something back to him, not even sure there were words in it, suspended as he was between the lazy movement of Takeshi's fingers and the deep thrusts of the cock working in and out of his ass. It wasn't even possible to think any more; Hayato let himself melt into the heat washing through him, allowing it to sweep everything away until there was nothing left of him but the fever-hot sensation of being held and fucked.

When Takeshi's hand finally tightened around his cock and his thrusts turned faster, it was almost a surprise to recall that pleasure could be urgent, too. Hayato's throat was dry with groaning when the sudden edge to the heat made him gasp; when the pleasure finally contracted on him, seizing him and turning him inside out, the sound he made was hoarse. It was hard to care about that when release had wiped his mind clean of anything but the hazy brightness of orgasm, and Hayato drifted in that aftermath as Takeshi's hands tightened on his hips and he went taut against Hayato's back.

He left everything else in Takeshi's hands, too, letting Takeshi ease him to the mattress and deal with the clean-up. He floated in the serenity of the moment until Takeshi finally settled with him, wrapping a long arm around him and murmuring, "That worked even better than I'd hoped it would."

Hayato roused himself enough to snort, though it sounded half-hearted even in his own ears. "I can't believe you."

Takeshi snickered. "I get that a lot, for some reason."

"I wonder why." Hayato leaned against him anyway, barely even bothered by the fact that he was smiling a little helplessly. At his back, Takeshi was practically purring with how smug he was; Hayato supposed he shouldn't let him get away with that for too long. "So now are you going to buy me dinner?"

Even so, he didn't even really mind it when Takeshi laughed hard enough at that to shake the whole bed.

end

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