(A/N) I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I have this out when I should be working on other things. I realized that Gokudera's birthday came and passed about a month ago and I never even noticed until now. Aren't I a dedicated fan? I also felt like I've been writing too dark and heavy stuff lately, so I wrote some fluff. Not much of a birthday fic, but here you go.

Don't worry, it's a one-shot.

It was 3 AM, as it always seemed to be lately.

Gokudera came back into the bedroom, after heading downstairs to try and put himself to sleep with a glass of warm milk. He hated the stuff, but he had promised Yamamoto to try it at least once. The jock had thought it would help, which it didn't. Not that Gokudera had really expected it to.

He got back under the covers, watching his lover sleep. Yamamoto had always been the cutest sleeper, with his long limbs splayed out all over the place and his mouth wide open. Gokudera was just glad he never snored.

Tonight, however, Yamamoto's mouth was barely open. Instead, a small smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth. Gokudera reached up and softly drew his thumb against his lover's tan skin, tracing his cheekbone. Yamamoto's body relaxed; Gokudera could feel it against him.

A small smile made its way onto Gokudera's lips. It was the kind of smile that no one ever saw, not even Yamamoto. The gentle one, the side of him that Gokudera didn't like people seeing.

He traced his thumb all along Yamamoto's face, sometimes causing the baseball player to twitch in his sleep. Eventually he reached Yamamoto's lips, where his thumb was replaced. It was a gentle kiss, one that only ever happened at three in the morning.

Gokudera disconnected from the kiss and lay back on the bed, watching the baseball player's chest rise and fall. He eventually moved his arm and reached for Yamamoto's hand; finding it resting on the baseball player's stomach. Gokudera took his lover's hand in his and squeezed it gently, rubbing his thumb against the metal band on Yamamoto's ring finger.

It'd been seven years since then. 2257 mornings at three AM of gentle kisses and love. They had a family now, somewhat. Two overly friendly dogs (if you counted Yamamoto), a vicious feline who'd gotten softer over the years, and a calming bird, which almost made Gokudera not want to leave for work in the morning. He'd gotten too used to things leaving him when he just started to like having them around.

But he knew this would be there when he came back, which may be the only thing that ever let him leave.

This was why he knew he was leaving for Italy today.

His sister had called him earlier in the week and told him that their father had died and there were some issues they had to figure out. Gokudera didn't want to go, but he knew he had some loose ends to tie before he could abandon his childhood family forever.

But whatever. He had a real family to come back to, however long that would take, and he knew it'd be exactly the same as how he'd left it.

2258 mornings at 3 AM, and counting.