I wrote this on my iPhone while sick. I'm pretty sure the quality shows exactly that. I am sorry, 1859 fans.

And yes this is 1859 from Gokudera's pov, even though it's really hard to tell until like the middle-end.

He brings out the worst in you. Violence, reckless stupidity, bad timing, apathy. He makes you crave a battle, a fight worth talking about for years, triumphant or not. He makes you hate yourself for not hating yourself for letting yourself become this way.

He makes the baseball idiot worry about you, about how easy killing in battle has become for you. "I'm not like him, I don't get some sick thrill out of it," you say, trying to be reassuring.

"Don't you?" It doesn't work, because at that you're out of things to say.

And you bring out the worst in him. The childishness, the stubborn inability to admit a mistake. The ability to make mistakes in the first place. The strange contented mess after a night neither of you meant to let happen, but not meaning for it to happen didn't stop either of you from going for round two. Or, to be perfectly honest, round three.

You're both hopelessly arrogant and selfish, both hate the idea of being tied down by commitment and love, both doubt love is actually a thing either of you might be capable of.

That doesn't stop kisses that might be called passionate by anyone who didn't know better. It doesn't stop tea in the morning, waiting for one of you to decide you don't need to be in his house anymore, usually him with complaints of cigarette smoke that you make a point of blowing in his face pissily, which earns you more time there for the sake of added violence.

It doesn't stop the thrill - fine, it's a bit of a thrill - of fighting on the same side as him, dodging tonfa if you're stupid enough to get too close to him while he's busy being carnivorous, getting hit in the gut by those tonfa anyway when it's over, for stealing prey he hadn't yet claimed, for accidentally doing something that might have looked like trying to protect him, for - you sometimes think, pushing it away as stupid immediately - getting hurt. Whatever the reason, it always causes a fight. Like everything else you two do.

You fight, you fuck, and it's all some kind of secret. No one knows - the people closest to you suspect, but no one knows for certain. They aren't happy for you, they don't nudge you playfully when he's around, not like when Yamamoto fell hard for a woman in the Cavallone. No one wants this for you. No one thinks it's anything but horrible for both of you.

But hell. He brings out the worst in you. And there's something pretty great about being at your worst.