Oh, Amore… by EtoileCyberPrima

Here's my second fanfiction featuring GokuHaru! Yet again it's short, but this time unedited, so don't be surprised to find mistakes. I'm too lazy. After this, I'm planning on writing another 5986 fic with roughly 20 pages or so. So look forward to it. And yes, this is set with TYL!Haru and TYL!Gokudera.

Warning: Two mentions of the F-Word. XD That's Gokudera, deal with it. Other than that, nothing really, unless you're super sensitive towards any type of affection.

Summary: She didn't know enough Italian to recognize much more than his phrase of endearment, but this latest entreaty sounded suitably naughty. He could have been saying something as innocent as, "My shirt needs ironing," but it was the breathy way that he said it that got her pistons firing.

Genre: General/Romance

Pairings: Gokudera X Haru a.k.a 5986

Disclaimer: Gokudera Hayato, Miura Haru, and all things to do with Katekyo Hitman Reborn are the property of Akira Amano.

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They stumbled into the room together, in an intricate knot of entwined arms and legs. While Haru hunted blindly for the lights with one free hand, Gokudera swung the door closed behind them with an extended foot. Then, with their individual assignments accomplished, they set to again, purring and heaving beneath the strength and viciousness of their kisses.

They maneuvered themselves in the general direction of the bed, the hands of one fighting against the confines of clothes of the other. Gokudera, with the advantage of walking forward, was able to loose her tightly-braided hair from the elaborate knotted bun at the crown of her head. He had already flung the decorative ribbons to the floor, and he was starting to work on loosening her shoulder wrap.

Haru, meanwhile, was more inconvenience by the requirement of walking backward in her new high heels. After the third backward step that caught in the carpet and threatened to topple them both, she jerked off one shoe and fumbled awkwardly with the other. With her feet finally flat on the floor, she was able to focus fully on pushing off his jacket - it joined her ribbons on the carpet – and pulling at his tie.

Gokudera managed to unfasten her wrap and toss it to the side just as they made it over to the bed. With a courtesy that Haru found endearing, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and the small of her back with the other, and he lowered her gently to the bed.

She smiled at him, and giggled with a thrill that was almost elation. She sized up the parts of him that were readily visible from this angle, and she ran her palms over his shoulders. "Oh, baby," she chuckled. "You are fine."

He gave her a lopsided smirk, almost as if to be self-satisfied. The hand that had been supporting her head moved around to the side of her face, where he stroked his thumb over her cheek. He leaned down to kiss her again, panting through parted lips: "Oh, amore …"

She made an appreciative little half-sigh, half-hum noise in her throat, as their tongues danced languorously between their locked lips. They parted, too soon, and with feather-light kisses he marked a trail down her neck.

Haru ran her hands through his thick hair, massaging the shortest hairs at the base of his neck. "Say something else in Italian," she said with a just about tease.

Gokudera paused, and she could feel his smile when his next kiss came. Then he muttered something hoarsely to her, the brush of his lips against her ear sending tiny chills down her back. She didn't know enough Italian to recognize much more than his phrase of endearment, but this latest entreaty sounded suitably naughty. He could have been saying something as innocent as, "My shirt needs ironing," but it was the breathy way that he said it that got her pistons firing.

Haru purred into his ear. "Do some more," she mock-pleaded, pouting her lips for effect.

He paused for a lengthy moment, as if in deep thought. When he finally spoke again, his words were stilted, self-conscious, and nearly timid. At the end, he kept his head bent to the space between her neck and shoulder that he'd been favoring, but he just freed one, two, three long breaths, as if paralyzed.

Haru giggled, mostly to hide her sudden discomfort at his long pause. "Wow. That must have been really raunchy," she joked. She craned her head to look at him. "What did you say?"

Gokudera propped himself up on one arm. He stared at her, holding her gaze for a long while. Then he whispered, "I want to make love to you."

She fought against the sudden laugh that threatened to break from her lips. Not because she found his words amusing - she didn't - but because she was so taken aback by his sudden unnatural openness instead of the customary slurs dealing with the main words "fuck" and "fucking" . But then she recalled that this was Gokudera, after all; Gokudera had never been coy about anything.

Haru chucked him under his chin. "Why do you think I invited you up to my room?" She responded, with her own trademark irreverent audacity.

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Owari!

Definitely, not one of my favorite pieces. That stuff happens anyways.

And for those who are interested, my profile is up now. You can take a look although I might re-edited some thing's, here and there.