(8018, no major spoilers) This is dedicated to my good friend rookie-chan, who has finally entered the wonderful world of yaoi. Hoping that you'll write for this fandom, too, in the near future. Story was written with 10_orders' prompt, 'smile for me' in LiveJournal. Please consider the rating and the pairing before reading, and the fact that this is on the EXTREME! randomly angsty cheesy side.All disclaimers apply.


SMILE

If you fall, stumble down

I'll pick you up off the ground

If you lose faith in you

I'll give you strength to pull through

Tell me you won't give up

Cause I'll be waiting if you fall, you know

I'll be there for you

- Save You by Simple Plan


"Stop."

He says that, but he hangs onto me. I say nothing in reply, and bury my head into the crook of his neck, fitting my body into his. And he fits himself back, grunting, closing his eyes as if trying to block the sight of me out. I inhale the scent of his skin, trying to leave it as another part of my memory – this is because he almost smells like nothing.

I dip my head down to kiss him; it is a deep kiss, and he gives a sound from his throat – I don't know what, exactly, but it's beautiful, and I smile when I hear it again. I run my hands across his body from under his shirt, and though he flinches, he says nothing to resist. His hands are clenching the front of my shirt, and he adjusts his body. I wait until he is comfortable, and I push away the clump of hair clinging into his forehead.

"Someone will see us," he hisses, placing his mouth near my ear, but not stopping. The warmth of his breath feels good against my skin. I open the top buttons of his shirt, ignoring his voice, blocking him out.

He pushes me away until I am at an arm's length from him, but he grips my shoulders hard. "Get out of my sight."

I smile and arrange my clothes, not taking offense. He's always like this. I'm used to it. "I'm sorry," I offer, and I pull his hands away slowly. I reach up to tighten my tie.

He arranges himself, as well, his cheeks still flushed, and his lips still a bit swollen. "I have something more important to do, Yamamoto." He says my name with emphasis, and it, for some unknown reason, makes me beam in silent pride. It has taken me quite a lot of persuading in the past to have him do so.

"I know."

He has to stop some European branch of the famiglia and their recent quarrel with another branch. He then would fly over to somewhere here, in Japan, to settle something with their yakuza. And a few more countries after that. Though he has never told me directly, I know he is tired. Exhausted. He wants to have his peace, but it seems that those who want to destroy it keep coming back, especially now that he has made the world his turf.

"For giving me so much trouble, I'll send those delinquents to hell," he mutters under his breath as he tucks in his shirt. "And I don't have time for horny bastards like you." There is venom in his voice. He pushes me out of his way and storms out, ready to finish his job.

"Take care!" I call out, smiling, and I arrange my own tie again, loosening it again, before following suit minutes later.

When I try to look for him in the conference room outside, I find out that he has left.

-

After a month or so, he is standing outside my unit. It's raining, and he had walked without an umbrella. Like always. I smile and welcome him inside, throwing him a towel as I go into my kitchen to make him something hot. I hear him sit down on one of my couches – wet clothes and all – and I go to him as soon as I finish.

I need no explanation; his blank eyes say it all. I take the towel from him and wipe his hair, myself. He is so much like a kid, I think. So smaller than me, so easy to read when we're alone. He lets me wipe his hair, until it stands up in all directions, and I laugh but he does nothing but grunt and run his hands through it to put them back down.

"So," I begin, watching him drinking. "How's Europe? The yakuza? And the other places I can't remember?"

"Dead."

I laugh. "You're joking."

He sips from his mug of chocolate. "I injured them enough to make them learn their lesson," he admits, anyway.

"Ahaha, good job, then."

He stops drinking and looks up at me, his face unchanged, his mouth in its usual straight line. I understand at once. I reach from across the small table between us, caress his pale cheek with my large hand, and pull him towards me for a kiss. "Welcome home," I whisper, and he says nothing. But he does not stop me.

-

Whenever he comes to me, I do not sleep. I lie in bed, pretending I am.

In the middle of the night, he sometimes sits up and does nothing, like he's thinking about something he doesn't want me to know. Some nights, he hesitantly runs his hands on my cropped, spiky hair, and when I turn slightly, he takes his hand away. On some nights, he gets out of bed to walk over to the window and watch the city below.

But this night is different. His breathing is strange – erratic and shallow. I can feel the slight tremble from his side of the bed. He sits up, and he reaches for my hand under the bed and squeezes it. Quickly, though, he loosens his hold and pulls away, embarrassed. "You're awake, aren't you?" he asks.

I reach out and squeeze his hand in reply.

"Bastard," he mutters, but he squeezes back. "Idiot." He leans over and takes away the blanket covering my face. He stares into my face, as if seeing something not right. "You're not smiling."

"Ah." I can't. I am worried. But I can't tell him that. I just stare at him, trying to hold back what I wanted to say.

He leans down and kisses me; a small, chaste kiss. And he mutters, "Smile. That's the only thing you're good at, anyway." And when I do, he almost smiles back, but he bites his lip and lies back and covers himself with his blanket

At that moment, I feel important; that maybe, no matter how strong he is, or how much stronger he'll become, he'll need me to support him, and to be able to smile no matter how tired he is, or take him in no matter how much he pushes me away.

I fall asleep, still smiling.

Hell, I'll probably smile all my life if he needs me to.


FIN.


A smile: a curved line that sets everything straight. CHEESE! 8D

I'm just starting on the 200-something parts of the manga, and around 30 more chapters before the recent one. So if I've overridden some canon facts, please forgive me! The use of Europe does not generalize. Reviews/concrits are loved?

- BT