Prompt: so tyl!ryohei with gokudera-- one of them has to be naked for reason OTHER than something sexual. rating is up to you.

AN: To clarify things before I start: this is completely AU, as I didn't know how to incorporate the bazooka in. Ryohei is 25 while Gokudera is 15. Enjoy. :)

Separation Anxiety

It's three am when he wakes up to the insistent banging on his front door. He turns over, away from the sound, fully set on ignoring it because he knows who it is and has no intention of letting him in. It takes awhile, as the man at the door keeps pushing the little button with frenzied, relentless fevor but after fifteen minutes, the racket dies down and Gokudera exhales, finally curling up in his blankets.

Only to be rudely awakened as Ryohei pushes his balcony's sliding door to let himself in. Gokudera could only stare: the insistent doorbell and other front door tricks were familiar to him, but this new development was entirely uncalled for.

"How did you get in," he stupidly asks, and even though the room is practically pitch black, he knows the older man has a gold medal worthy shit eating grin plastered on his face as he shuts out the freezing post-autumn wind.

"Parkour," he explains, but Gokudera's having a hard time figuring out how breaking into someone's house could fit neatly into the tenements of the sport.

"But this is the 18th floor," he tries again, still a little disoriented.

"Yeah, first time I landed on my face, but it didn't break, and I wasn't bleeding like a fountain, so I tried again," Ryohei made an uncommitted shrug and yawned, shuffling towards the bedroom door. "I'll just crash on your couch, night."

Quickly snapping out of his reverie, Gokudera all but leaps from his bed and intercepts Ryohei, "when was the last time you took a shower?" he asks, immediately horrified as Ryohei gives him a blank stare, and grows increasingly agitated as Ryohei brought up both hands to count all of the days. "You are taking a bath right now or you're sleeping on the doormat." he warns, now barring Ryohei from the hallway.

"But I am le tireeeed." Ryohei whines, pushing against one of the boy's arms, but Gokudera fixes on a deep glower and clips, "How fascinating, so am I."

"But I'm more tireeeeeed than you areeeeee," Ryohei argues fitfully, but Gokudera shakes his head and takes one of Ryohei's arm, steering him into the bathroom, flipping on the lights and opening the shower curtain to start the water. "Hey kid," Ryohei backpedals, trying to find a hold on the sink as Gokudera tugs at the man's shirt to pull it over his head, "I like you n' all, but not THIS much—"

"Shut up, I'm here because I know you'd just turn on the shower head and make splashing noises for five minutes straight." he says as he finally gets the shirt off Ryohei and flings it to the corner of the bathroom as if it had several giant roaches on it. Ryohei immediately shuts up, startled by how accurate Gokudera's prediction was, but quickly gains ground as he points out, "oi, you're extremely good at this 'stripping other guys' thing, is this a regular occurrence?"

"Only on alternative Thursdays," Gokudera shoots back nonchalantly, now undoing Ryohei's belt buckle.

Ryohei does a mock double take and snaps his fingers, "so YOU'RE the serial rapist they've been trying to find!" He stares into Gokudera's face, stroking his chin. "No wonder they haven't found you yet, you don't exactly fit the part of the slightly bald, profusely sweaty, 40 year old man."

"Thank goodness." Gokudera absentmindedly replies, and he stops at Ryohei's boxers, indicating his limit and turns around, now fiddling with the line of bottles next to the tub.

"Shit kid, you better be really extra super nice to me, otherwise I could report you to the fuzz n' all…" Ryohei laughs, though it slowly fades as he stares hard at the tub filled with foamy bath water.

"What's wrong? Afraid you'll melt?" Gokudera asks, cocking his head towards the water. "Don't worry, if you start drowning, I'll save you. I got a lifeguard license just this summer."

Ryohei fidgets, suddenly self-conscious (which wasn't very often) and tries to figure out how to break it to his diminutive best friend (but not really but actually yes because they're the only ones that can truly tolerate each other for extended periods of time) that the whole situation was really, kinda, sorta, maybe, slightly awkward in the most civil manner possible.

"This is fucking stupid."

"Get in or I'm throwing you in."

Ryohei begins a retort, but the memory of being thrown out an 18th floor window just three weeks ago rushes back to him. It was one of the reasons why he took up parkour in the first place. He can hear Gokudera's teeth gritting, scraping past each other in furious rage, the sound of it making him nervous.

"Fucking Christ, you're worse than Charlie; I'm not going to hold you underwater and watch your life ebb away."

"Is Charlie your newest live-in manwhore?" Ryohei lets out a low whistle. "Wow, you work fast, kid."

"It's my new Saint Bernard, fuckface, and believe it or not, he smells much better than you do."

"…is that code for bara guys?"

And with that, Gokudera stands up, gets behind Ryohei and pushes the taller man in head first, not at all perturbed as Ryohei performs his best impression of a windmill as droplets of water splash all over his front side. After the tsunami dies down, he kneels next to the tub, picking up a few bath salts and a bottle of shampoo and drags them over next to him.

"Aw fuck, I'm gonna smell like a girl, aren't I?" Ryohei moans, his nose wrinkling as Gokudera flips the shampoo cap open and pours a liberal amount in his hand.

"This is my favorite shampoo." Gokudera bristles, wondering why he even bothered taking it out.

"But chicks don't like that, y'know, coz they're looking for a manly man, a hard-working guy that builds up a good day's worth of sweat. That, dear Watsondera, is the epitome of the Ideal Man."

Gokudera doesn't reply, too busy lathering up and scrubbing through Ryohei's short hair, massaging the scalp vigorously.

"You see kid," Ryohei picks up, continuing his impromptu lecture, "chicks only like guys who are tough and manly. Otherwise, they'll go for the wimpy guys that're just rolling in dough and eat moon rocks for breakfast or something. So, if you don't have either, you'll never get laid."

Gokudera rolls his eyes, already knowing what happens to Ryohei's nearly non-existent bank account, "and how was that new pokemon game?"

Ryohei shoots him a ridiculously goofy grin, "best fucking shit ever, of course."

"I'm sure it is."

***

Twenty minutes later, and a whole slew of stops and starts as Ryohei occasionally struggles against Gokudera and his various lotions and conditioners; "BOUNDARIES, little man, BOUNDARIES," Ryohei's finally clean enough for Gokudera's standards and the younger boy draws back, shaking the foamy water off of his hands and arms and stands up to hand Ryohei a towel, and slips out of the bathroom to get Ryohei some suitable clean clothes, kept nicely folded in the bottom of his drawer, all in the man's size.

By the time he comes back though, he finds a trail of wet footprints from the bathroom to his living room. A quick walk down the hall confirms his suspicions as Ryohei is on the floor, wrapped in the towel Gokudera gave him and petting the gigantic dog in the middle of the carpet. Gokudera crosses the room and hands Ryohei the clothes, waving off the thanks and sitting next to Charlie, scratching him behind the ears as he waits for Ryohei to finish.

"Hey, why'd you give me a dress shirt?"

"What, never saw one before?"

Ryohei snorts, pulling the shirt on and buttoning up, also slipping into the black silk boxers Gokudera gave him, leaving the pants dangling off the side of the couch.

It's quiet, and it doesn't take long for Ryohei to feel left out, so he hooks his arms under Gokudera's and hoists the boy up onto the couch, meeting little resistance. His eyes swivel on a photo on the mantle and he asks the same question every time he comes over, "when's your old man coming home?"

The boy fidgets. "Three months."

Ryohei's eyes narrowed and he pushes slightly at Gokudera's shoulder, "you told me a month just last week."

Gokudera shrugs, still not turning over. "He said he changed his mind."

And with that, Ryohei huffs, draping an arm over Gokudera's and turns him around to place his chin on top of the boy's head. "I should just adopt you already. You can even bring Rover along."

"Charlie."

"Yeah, whatever."

But Gokudera makes an overly exaggerated choking noise and shakes his head, "I think I take care of you more than you do for me."

"Oi kid," Ryohei snaps, "might I remind you who landed you your first date."

"She looked like a brontosaurus."

"But you didn't have to kick her in the face in front of everyone at Micky D's." Ryohei patiently points out. Gokudera makes an uncommitted grunt and faces away once more. He only gets 30 seconds of peace until a tap on his shoulder reaffirmed Ryohei's unwillingness to let him off the hook that easily.

"Do you think you could get me a blanket?"

***

Two minutes later, back with his own sheets and comforter, he drapes them across the entire couch, and Ryohei's ridiculous grin tells him the arrangement was incredibly comfortable. Gokudera himself sighs, and buries into the blankets as well, careful not to bump into Ryohei.

"Oi, I don't stink anymore, get over here." And with no grace whatsoever, he pulls the boy in, shifts slightly to give him more space and drifts off, bumping foreheads with Gokudera as he mumbles out, "night, kid."

"Morning," he corrects.

"Shut up."

"Asshole."

"Shithead." But it's the tightening of Ryohei's embrace and Gokudera's acceptance that lulls the both of them to sleep, as the sun spills into the room and lights the quiet smiles on both of their faces.

Good morning.

The | End